The Trouble With Luck (Some Kind of Luck Book 1) by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Creative Wonder Publishing
Published: 2021-03-17T04:00:00+00:00

Where in the hell did all the girls go? Lennon has been in the bathroom for a while now, and I’ve lost sight of Sky and Harper on the dance floor, so it’s possible that they’ve stepped outside for some fresh air to combat the sweaty exhaustion that comes with drunken dancing. I swear, stepping into brisk air after grinding your way through a DJ’s entire set list almost feels as euphoric as your first pee of the day.

I’m about to go looking for them when I see Ash, our bartender, start to get overwhelmed by the rush of drunken people wanting the unique menu of holiday drinks. Whoever thought it was a good idea to leave her on her own in an Irish pub with an expansive bar on St. Freaking Patrick’s Day is an idiot. She looks about ready to cry.

She’s got dudes twice her size yelling at her from the other side of the bar, and she’s living the rough life of “bar wench”—one I’m only too familiar with. Fuck it. I toss mine and the girls’ bags and coats over the bartop real quick and then hop over with ease, causing her eyes to pop open wide in shock when I start shoving our shit into a cubby for safekeeping.

“You can’t be back here!” she yells as she frantically tries to keep up with the orders being thrown her way and still keep the tabs right and the cash flowing.

“Girl, I got you! Trust me, I can help!” I yell back over the crowd. I turn to the sink lining the back of the bar and wash my hands—safety first and all that—and then make my way over to Ash.

“You really shouldn’t—”

“Look, I’m a bartender on a college campus back home, and I’ve been where you are. You shouldn’t be left alone on such a busy night, so let me run drinks and you round up payments, yeah? We’ll have this crowd thinned in no more than five minutes, tops,” I promise, seeing relief take over the look of trepidation on her face. She was really struggling. I’m going to kick the ass of whoever left her alone.

“Yo, can we get some beers over here? Whatever’s on tap, five of ’em!”

“We need three shots of Fireball, two green beers, and a Dublin Kiss!”

“Can I get a Shamrock Shower? Sour! I mean a Shamrock Sour…”

“I’d like an Irish Mule, and two Pot O’ Gold shots, pretty please.”

“You know how to make an Irish Car Bomb? I’ll take two!”

I start drowning out the background noise and focus on the thumping bass as I shake my ass and pump out drinks almost as fast as these dipshits are ordering them. Every once in a while, I pop my head up to check my spot for the girls, knowing they’ll give me hell as soon as they see I’ve jumped into work as soon as they were out of reach.

“Oh my god, you’re a lifesaver. I can’t believe how good at this you are.

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