Fake Lovers | Alta Bahia Series #1

“I think we need another person helping in the bar.”

Those are the first words my mother utters after requesting she needs to talk to me. Urgently.

Urgent to destroy my morning.

My eyebrows nosedive into a frown and I cross my arms over my chest, my muscles straining. “No.”

“Alex,” she uses her cajoling voice. Sweet and exasperated.

I’m not moved to give in. “No,” I repeat because we don’t need anyone else here. Everything marches okay as it is. No one is making messes or trying to be too helpful only to screw things over. Either by breaking cups and glasses, getting into quarrels with drunk customers, or misplacing all the ingredients from the bar.

The few workers here know how the deal is—focus on your work, no chit chat.

I don’t need an intruder I’ll have to watch over all day. I don’t need someone rambling my ear off with stupid stories or excuses about why they arrived late or couldn’t make it to their shifts.

I don’t need bratty girls, batting their eyelashes my way, hoping to soften me.

I don’t need a new source of a headache.

I have enough tasks at the bar as it is—managing the bar, keeping an eye on the customers to make sure they haven’t exceeded in their drinking, cleaning and closing the establishment late at night, and waking up early to come back to check on the inventory, make sure nothing was stolen.

And now, shouldering part of my mom’s job—contacting providers, paying the bills, and handling the finances.

My eyes flicker to her in her large oak desk. Something cold twists in my stomach. It paralyzes my entire system.

She looks fine today, her blonde hair up in a bun and her face done with light make-up. The tender smile that curls on her face shows no signs of distress.

But I know better.

Her back has been aching for a while now. She says it is manageable. But I can see the way she winces when she tries to get up or sit down. The slowness in her movements, like her muscles need time to warm up. She lies saying she’d rather work from home because she can’t stand the seat in her office.

She keeps telling me her back pains are because of her posture. Years and years of hunching over a desk, carrying heavy boxes full of liquor, and shouldering drunk customers out to their rides.

Whatever the reason, it’s been keeping her home-bound more often than she cares to admit, leading me to cover up for her work. I don’t mind taking her tasks on. I love my mom. She has worked hard enough throughout the years, raising me all by herself.

She’s the first person who deserves a rest.

I’ve suggested her to retire. She has fought me back on it, saying she’s okay. Besides, we both know I’ll need an extra pair of hands to help me manage the bar once she leaves.

However, the past five people we hired were a nightmare, I’d rather lit myself on fire.

My choices are either burnout or a headache.

Burnout it is then.

Even once Mom gets better after physiotherapy, I prefer if she backs off from the bar.

“Sweetie,” Mom goes on, tilting her head. “Come on.”

“No,” I refuse to give in.

“You can’t handle everything.”

“Watch me.”

She exhales, amused and exasperated. “Alex—”

“Mom,” I arch my eyebrow, tone curt to end this conversation. I have to do inventory before opening. I don’t have time to squander arguing over this. “You’ve seen how badly it’s been the past times. Let me try it alone. Please.” I growl the last word, widening my eyes. My lifeline before I’m driven insane.

She presses her lips. I believe she’s caving in, until she opens her mouth again. “Let’s give it one last try.”

I groan. “No.”

God!

When I glance at her, I notice the guilty expression on her face. She blinks too rapidly.

My eyes narrow, staring at her. Through gritted teeth, I mutter, “You already did it. You hired someone.”

Her expression is painful. “I’m sorry, but I truly believe you need help. I don’t want you to stress out—”

“I will get stressed having to watch over someone,” I sigh hard, running a hand through my hair. My hands are itching to grab something and squeeze it hard. “I don’t need another task to deal with.”

“Give her a chance.”

A headache is starting to pound in the back of my eyes. She hasn’t arrived yet and I’m dreading every single second.

“Does she at least have experience working at bars or restaurants?” I question.

“No,” Mom says in a slow tone. “But she has the right attitude. I think you’ll like her.”

I shoot Mom a serious face because the likelihood of that happening is null. Hell, it’s negative. Impossible.

I don’t like people. I don’t do people. The less contact, the better.

“Seriously? You hired someone that has no fucking idea about anything?” My jaw clenches. “You want me to quit?”

Mom chuckles. The sound rumbles in my back, soothing me. She might be in pain but at least she’s laughing. “Don’t be dramatic, Alex.”

“I’m serious.”

“Give her a chance. She might turn into the best worker you’ll ever meet.”

Doubt it.

I bite my tongue because this discussion is useless at this point. Mom is not giving up on this new girl. And at the end of the day, this is her bar. Her rules. Her decisions.

And I’ll have to suck it up.

Someone, shoot me.

“When is this new girl coming for training?” I exhale.

Mom bites her lower lip. “Now...”

I glare at my mother but don’t say anything. I’m questioning if I should head directly to the storage room and get out the strongest liquor we have. I can’t deal with this while sober.

I shake my head. “I’ll try not to murder someone today.”

Mom chuckles again. “Thank you, sweetie.”

I nod before exiting the office in the back of the bar. Instead of heading to the storage room as planned, I make a beeline to the main area. My gaze scans the room, looking for the new girl.

It’s not hard to find her given she’s the only person in the large space. She’s sitting on a barstool by the bar, head down as she texts something on her phone. Her dark hair cascades around her.

It’s like she can sense my heavy gaze on her since her eyes flicker up. Our stares lock and my mouth dries.

Green.

She has the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen. Deep green like a lush forest.

My stomach empties, as though free falling.

I can’t look away, attempting to figure out if those shades of eyes are real or if the light is messing with my sight.

My legs halt midway, and I can’t form words. I just...stare. Like an idiot.

Far from perturbed by my reaction, her face cracks into a large grin. Pearly white teeth and all. “Hi, I’m Meredith...The new employee.”

I’m frozen.

“You must be Alexander, right?”

She jumps from her seat and makes her way around the bar until she’s standing in front of me a head lower. Her scent hits me—floral.

I swallow hard.

Those green eyes are real.

“Can I store this in the back before we begin?” she asks, raising the black bag on her shoulder. “Amanda showed me the place the other day.”

Without waiting for my reply, she makes her way to the hallway that leads to my mother’s office, the storage room, the kitchen, and the locker room. It doesn’t take her long before she’s back. The wide smile still plastered on her pretty face, floral scent invading everywhere she goes.

“Sorry about the rambling,” she rolls her eyes. “I’m very excited. But I’ll try my best to keep quiet as you show me the ropes.”

For some strange reason, I haven’t minded the rambling. Not one bit.