“Yes, Harry, I will get you the wine list.” Selene was slowly making her way towards Lower Manhattan, balancing a bag of baked goods in one hand and her phone, pressed to her ear, in another.
“Nothing older than…”
“1990. I remember.”
Selene heard the quiet laughter from her brother, who had called her just a minute ago, all nervous and stressed from his first official week as the “big boss” of their shop.
“And also…”
“The champagne. Yes. I remember that as well.” The bartender smiled even though her brother couldn’t see her expression. “You'll do great, Harry; just try to smile a little bit more.”
“That's what I’ve been told, and that is exactly something I worry about.”
“It sounds like they can actually fire you. It’s your place, though.”
”Thanks, sis, this is very helpful.”