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was about to make a beeline in his direction, but he
    saw someone he knew and stopped to chat. As she
    watched him carrying on his conversation, her memories
    turned back to the first time Ian had walked through
    those very doors some eight years ago.
    Ian had walked into the bar looking very lonely
    and broken. He’d just arrived in town and knew no
    one, so Jean had reached out to him, and they’d talked
    for several hours while she’d tended bar. After much
    conversation, she’d realized that he was a nice young
    man who’d had some realy bad breaks, and she’d
    taken a liking to him. A bartender had quit that very
    day, leaving Jean in desperate need of help, and Ian
    was in desperate need of a job, so it worked out
    perfectly. Jean had offered Ian the studio apartment
    over the bar as lodgings, which he’d gratefuly
    accepted.
    The very next day, Ian had moved in and started
    working. It hadn’t taken him long, Jean remembered, to
    get comfortable with the rhythm of the bar business.
    He’d begun bartending in the late afternoons when the
    saloon was just opening, which helped him get familiar
    with the layout and learn to mix the drinks and run the
    register. He’d also done some bouncing on Friday and
    Saturday nights, but he’d told her that the part of the
    job he liked most was working with the performers,
    getting them set up and ready for rehearsals and doing
    sound and lighting checks.
    Jean quickly noticed that Ian had a knack for
    knowing who would be a hit and who wouldn’t, and it
    wasn’t long before she’d had him involved with the
    previewing, hiring, and scheduling of new talent.
    Everything worked out perfectly, and with each day,
    she’d seen a little of the weight he’d been carrying melt
    away.
    Every night, she’d taken special care to introduce
    him to al of her friends, regulars, and business contacts.
    And in no time at al, Ian had made quite a name for
    himself as her right hand. One night, she’d introduced
    him to Josh Randal, a talent scout for Capitol Records,
    Nashvile.
    The two men had hit it off right away and had
    talked for over an hour. Jean had listened as Ian
    described to Josh al the solo artists and groups he had
    auditioned over the last couple of months. With
    painstaking detail, he’d described to Josh who he
    thought was going to make it and who wasn’t and, in his
    opinion, why. Later, in private, Josh had told Jean that
    he’d just been promoted and Capitol was looking for a
    replacement scout. He’d been impressed by Ian’s
    insights, and even though he wasn’t in the music
    business, Josh thought that gave him a fresh approach
    to new talent. It would be a hard sel to the record
    label, but Josh had thought it was worth the fight. She
    remembered how excited Ian had been when she’d told
    him what she and Josh had discussed.
    After many long conversations with Ian and
    several meetings with the label, Josh had formaly
    offered Ian the job. He’d accepted the position with a
    great deal of excitement, and Jean was so happy for
    him, but at the same time, she’d had a heavy heart at
    the realization that he would no longer be working for
    her. She’d known that she and Ian would always be
    friends, but things would never be the same as they
    were when he’d lived there at the saloon and worked
    for her. They’d become very close, and she was, in a
    way, his surrogate mother. She’d been thriled when Ian
    had asked if he could continue living in the studio until
    he found another place to live, as this living arrangement
    would guarantee that they would see each other often.
    Jean was snapped out of her thoughts as Ian
    walked up and greeted her with a big hug and a kiss.
    “Sure is good to see you, honey. How’ve you been?”
    she asked.
    Ian shrugged. “Pretty good, dol, no complaints.
    You look younger every time I see you.”
    “Oh, Ian, you’re only saying that ’cause it’s true,”
    Jean replied with a smile. “Are you making time