Wherever the Dandelion Falls Read Free Page A

what he wanted to drink. The customer ordered a Shirley Temple and I smiled at him. There were a fair number of men who came in and never drank alcohol. I admired that their abstinence from booze didn't curtail their partying.
    I mixed a Shirley Temple and scanned the crowd to see if any of the regulars were around. Chad was my least favorite patron, a orangey-tan man who wore too much gold jewelry and had his teeth bleached until they glowed almost blue. He rarely tipped me, and I'd once overheard a particularly graphic account of his most recent anal bleaching experience. Not that that was an anomaly at Jules'; I'd heard just about everything under the sun, from fist-shaped dildos to cum fetishists to a young man who claimed to have banged Lance Bass once. But Chad annoyed the hell out of me, and he always seemed to have a harem of boys around him. It wasn't Chad's preoccupation with his appearance that made him undesirable. It was just that there were so many more deserving people. People like Dave.
    Relieved to not see Chad and his harem, I glanced over at the dance floor. I saw a flash of pink feather boa, which wasn't unusual. But when a rhinestoned tiara caught the light, I realized it was a bachelorette party. That meant good news for the bar, but bad news for tips.
    I finished printing someone's bill and lay it on the bar for the customer to sign. I put my hands on my hips, feeling the bar apron slung low and secure, and gave my practiced and impersonal smile to the next customer.
    Holy god. She was beautiful. Her hair was silky and not a single black strand was out of place. Her skin was flawless and her cheeks were so round and smooth they looked airbrushed. Long, painted lashes hung over dark, shiny eyes and a straight little nose. And below that... lips. Perfect, pillowy lips that were stained to perfection with what had to be the luckiest lipstick on earth.
    "Two Long Islands," the girl said, a folded twenty poking out from between two manicured nails.
    I was able to look away and regain my bearings. I found the plastic cups. I found the rum and gin and tequila. I found the vodka and triple sec. I scooped ice into the cups, poured everything together and stuck a lemon wedge on the rim of each cup.
    As I reached for two napkins, I heard myself say, "Who's the other one for?"
    The girl smiled and I felt my insides melt like warm butter.
    "They're both for friends. I'm driving. Someone has to look out for the bride."
    I nodded, staring blankly at the beauty before me. When she didn't move to take her drinks, I asked, "Who's the bride?"
    She twisted around, standing on her tiptoes to see over the crowd. "The one with the white boa and the god-awful tiara."
    It lifted up to view the girl in question. She didn't look older than twenty. "She looks young," I said, frowning.
    "I know," the girl said, rolling her eyes.
    I gave her a blank nod, frozen again.
    After a second, the girl flicked her wrist an inch, bouncing the twenty-dollar bill towards me. "Do you want this or are these free tonight?"
    I blushed and took the bill from the girl's hand, being careful to avoid touching her. If I touched her, she might turn to dust, the illusion shattered by my clumsiness. I didn't want that to happen.
    I looked back over at the bride, who was falling onto a tall blonde girl.
    "She looks too young to drink, let alone get married," I commented.
    The girl ordering didn't seem to mind my frankness. "She's twenty-five, but I agree she is too young on both counts. Keep the change," she said, letting her gaze flit down to my cleavage for a moment before she turned back to her gaggle of drunk flamingo princesses.
    Had I imagined that? Imagined those dark, shiny eyes swooping down into my shirt? The girl was so beautiful and so polished, she didn't seem like the type. Girls like her were usually attached to a scruffy hipster or startup entrepreneur, not ogling female bartenders at a gay bar.
    As I took the next order and my hands flipped