Sandy wipes a splattering of dishwater from her forehead using the back of her hand, and turns to the manager.<br/><br/>"I haven't seen him in years," she says honestly, "I really don't have a say in what he does or doesn't do. I will say that he's more than capable of performing the duties well. He'll make a great bartender. Go ahead and hire him."<br/><br/>She turned back to the dishes, her head full of sorrow. She had seen exactly how easily she could lose her best friend. She had been faced with the reality that she was no where near as important in his life as she thought she was, and the result was a sinking, painful weight in her heart. As she stood there, scrubbing dish after dish, she stopped wiping away the water that splattered her face, grateful for the disguise to her tears.