New Year’s Eve is the biggest money-making night for any establishment that serves booze. Dry rosé champagne pairs excellently with the classic angus beef burger. Slash the price on several brands of bourbon, set up a giant projector to air New Year's Rockin' Eve, and the crowds tumble into the restaurant, ready to empty their deep pockets.
Every manager and bouncer has to work New Year’s Eve at my place. Rich people think they can get away with a lot of shit, and their egos grow exponentially with each drink. There are way too many priceless art pieces by Khloe and Rosalyn in my restaurant for anyone to get away with shenanigans.
I have to work too. Up until midnight. The longest day of the year for me.
But it’s worth it. At 11:59, the whole staff gets a glass of champagne on the house. They hug each other and all that other good, bubbly shit. Probably do something with resolutions, I don’t know. It makes them happy, and I’m relieved if I get to leave the restaurant without a brawl going on somewhere.
This year’s different. It’s almost midnight, the place is crowded, no one’s been kicked out, all of my friends are here…
And something’s missing. Someone. Tyson.
Last time I stayed up to this hour was back in Georgia with him. An eternity ago, even though my calendar claims mere weeks have passed.
In seven minutes, we’ll be ringing in a new year in different states. Is it too much to hope for something different next year? That we’ll be so close no one will know where I start and where he ends?
Leon taps my shoulder. He’s dressed to the nines tonight, even wearing a lovely plum tie.
“Phil, should we stop taking food orders now? We only have two tickets out.”
“Keep the grill on until one. We had a pretty sizable influx of people wanting to order after the ball dropped last year.”
“All right. Think I’m gonna cut everyone back there but Moe and Kelley. I can hop in and cook if we get real busy.”
“That’s fine.” I roll my shoulders. “Isn’t your boyfriend working tonight? You should go find him. Smooch him. Nothing with tongue.”
“I think you mean my fiancé.”
“Oh?”
He winks at me. “I’m going to pop the question at midnight.”
“You are goddamn cheesy.” I flick his arm, a smile stuck on my face. “No wonder you cleaned up.”
A question hums through my heart. Is Tyson the type to commit? As far as I know, he isn’t seeing anyone but me. But it’s not like we’ve got a name for our relationship. Nor have we said we’re exclusive.
My thumb traces the outline of one of my cufflinks. I’m more than willing to slap a label or two on us.
“Olivia’s going to take pictures. Lisa’s keeping Jamar in his place at the bar for me. You can watch, if you want.”
“I’m going to join my friends. Remember, I gotta pretend I don’t see anything that’s about to happen between 11:59 and 12:01. Put some drinks for you both on my tab once you’re done working.” I pat him on the back. “Congrats, Leon.”
His cheeks glow as he beams. “You don’t think he’s going to say no?”
“Who could say no to you?”
“Thanks, Phil.”
My phone buzzes as I unlock the office door to drop off my clipboard. And keeps buzzing. Someone’s calling. Tyson, who’s been too busy since seven to shoot any texts.
“Hey, Ty.”
“Phil! I only got, like, thirty seconds. It’s a zoo here.”
“I bet.”
Tyson’s probably in his element at work right now. He’s been excited about this shift all week. My heart swells, realizing he made time for me. That fucking romantic.
“Thanks for calling. It means a lot to hear your voice.”
“You still working?” he asks.
“Almost done. Going to go home and sleep for two days straight after this.”
“That’s nice. Manny and I are going to hang out with a bunch of the crew after we’re done here and drink ‘til the sun’s up. So I won’t be able to catch you again until next year!”
Ice seeps into my bloodstream. It’s perfectly normal for a man in his 20’s to party until sunrise. Especially on a holiday.
It’s just something I’m never going to do again in my life.
“Funny.” I force a chuckle out. “Be safe, Tyson.”
“I will. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
We hang up. Two minutes until the ball drops. I clock out, lock up the office, and meander over to the table where Meredith and the others are.
They greet me with hugs and kisses. Streamers and smiles shine through the restaurant. Antonio and Gene hold hands when they think no one is watching.
Everything around me should lift my spirits, but not even a glass of whisky is enough to pry the frown off my face.
Tyson and I aren’t incredibly serious, are we? It’s just fun, isn’t it? We can’t be serious. I was too old for Curtis, and I’m definitely too old for Tyson. I’d be hindering him during the best years of his life if I asked for something more.
The ball drops to ring in the New Year, and my hopes crash with it.