Free Strong Enough by TERESA HILL

doesn’t let up until 2:00 am.
    “Ok girls, fill me in, where are we on the
bar top?” I ask while setting up my station in the middle of the
bar.
    “Gretchen has service window and I have been
grabbing most of the bar top. If you want, I will take northside so
you can keep your station and an eye on the door,” Stormy hollered
from across the bar.
    “Sounds good to me Storm,” I yelled back. I
get along pretty well with Gretchen and Stormy that’s why I
schedule them to work with me. I have a few other bartenders that I
prefer to keep my distance from more for their sake of me not bitch
slapping them.
    I take a quick count of who is on my side of
the bar top. Running down the line, I make sure that everyone has a
drink in hand. The few spots still open on my side quickly get
filled as what seems like an entourage comes in and they fill not
only the bare spots but the table that is right next to the bar. I
have been doing this long enough to know how to handle these
groups.
    A tall guy, decent looking, longer dark hair
and clean cut steps up to the bar. I hear an accent as he starts to
put in an order. “Can I get two Jack and cokes, two vodka tonics,
three Budweiser’s and a glass of water?” His accent is definitely
from the east coast as his pronunciation of water was not of the
norm for Texas.
    I line the drinks up in front of him. “Want
to open a tab or close out?” I asked totaling the cost up for him.
“Leave it open babe.” Great, ugh, so not your
babe
    “Will be happy to leave it open but if you
want service on it you might want to call me by my name because
last I checked we’re not dating and I definitely am not your babe,”
was the snippy response I spouted out before my brain could catch
up to my mouth.
    The bewildered look he gave me almost made
me chuckle. Not sure if it was what I said or the fact that I had
something to say at all was what was confusing him.
    “Yeah, um sorry, habit.” Was all he said as
he handed me his credit card.
    “Name is Reece and I will respond to it, and
only it.” Smiling as to not piss him off.
    “You’re feisty, I like that.” His grin was
one I see on a daily basis. Men!
    “Feisty is an understatement for me, but if
that’s what you want to go with, doesn’t matter to me. Let me know
if you need anything else,” was all I said as I head down the bar
to check on more customers.
    Standing a few feet down from where I left
Mr. East Coast, should have read his name on
the credit card , I see him walk in and flash his smile.
Short black hair pushed to the middle of his head and spiked up,
deep purple v neck shirt clinging to the massive things he must
call arms attached to him. Scanning lower I see his dark jeans are
loose fitting around his waist but hug what must be very muscular
legs that bring his, eh, six foot tall frame up to the bar. His
chocolate eyes scan the room and stop when he sees me staring. CRAP IM STARING . Realization of what
I am doing hits me, and I turn to mix up the shots the customer in
front of me had ordered. Don’t turn and look,
don’t turn and look . Turning and looking, yep he’s still
looking as Mr. East Coast tries to get my attention.
    Finishing with the customer I was with, I
walk back toward Mr. East Coast and am unsure how to react to the
other one’s eyes are following me. There is something about him
that is familiar but I’m not sure why. I’m pretty sure I would
remember someone that looks like him if I had met him before.
    “What can I get ya?” I sound a little too
chipper greeting Mr. East Coast with a smile. It is obvious he has
the same thought to my chipperness as he shakes his head a bit to
suggest he wasn’t sure how to react.
    “Reece, my friend would like a…” pausing to
face him, we both see a look of recognition in his face when he
hears my name.
    “Umm, vodka water, two limes,” is all he
says as he continues to stare. It is obvious he is just as curious
as both Mr. East Coast and me but he