The tavern was busy enough to keep Willow moving without making her wish for another pair of hands come true.
Ava was behind the counter, checking the inventory sheet with a pen tucked between her fingers. Meredith moved from one table to another, collecting empty plates and dropping off fresh orders. Somewhere in the kitchen, dishes clattered and someone laughed.
Willow stood behind the bar, drying a glass while a man in a faded blue shirt stared at his drink like it had sand in it.
"This isn't cold enough."
Willow looked at the glass, then at him, then back at the glass.
"It's cold."
"Could be colder."
She placed the glass down.
"I can put it in the freezer."
The man frowned. "I don't want it frozen."
"Then we're getting dangerously close to the drink being exactly what you ord
