Page 8 of The Bartender Special

“Love makes you stand up,” he had said sagely. “And I’m ready to stand tall!”

He'd gone after his glass after that and, for a second, Jack was sure he was going to raise it in a toast. Thankfully, he just tried to drink from it. A hard feat, considering he had finished that drink ten minutes beforehand.

“See, I'm done with being the only one sitting life out,” Benny had continued, replacing the glass on the bar top. “Why don't I just tell him? I mean, it's my turn to be the one making plans. It's my turn to be the one showing off. It's my turn to get the pony.”

Jack had raised his eyebrow on that last point.

“I don't know if that's code for something, but I'm sure one day you'll get that pony,” he had tried. “Whatever that pony may be.”

Now, after making the Robertson group’s drinks and then going to the office to drop off some mail, Jack paused in the hallway that opened up to the back of the bar to begrudgingly Google Benny. He wanted to know if he'd gotten his pony.

Judging by the first post that popped up? Marcus still had no idea about Benny’s crush on him.

“Small-town man strikes accidental gold after DearMe blog goes viral. There are no secrets left from Benny De Carlo... All except the ones the internet wants to know. Who is Guy? Will he ever tell him how he felt? How he, the internet assumes, still feels? And, if he's one of the million people obsessed with The One Who Said Nothing, could he feel the same way? Also, can we get another blog entry about that fishing trip to Florida? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?

Until The One Who Said Nothing says something, here's twenty-five of the best social media reactions to the viral sensation to keep you entertained!”

Jack didn't look at the list of gifs and comments, but his curiosity had more than been piqued.

It went straight through the roof as the man of the hour himself suddenly appeared in front of Jack.

There was no nice little southern greeting.

Only a statement of fact.

“You remember me,” Benny said.

Jack nodded. He couldn’t help but add some snark in.

“I do, and I have to ask... Did you ever get that pony?”

Benny's hand shot out and over Jack’s mouth so quickly that Jack didn't have time to stop it. He caught the scent of something citrus before Benny's eyes went wide and he pulled his hand right on back.

“Sorry,” he hurried, cheeks going from tan to red within a blink. He lowered his voice. “It's just that, well, no one is supposed to know about that…thing I told you. About, well, you know.”

“You wanting to marry Marcus Robertson,” Jack filled in.

Benny's eyes went wider, if possible.

“Yeah. That and, well, I'd really appreciate it if you could keep that a secret. Keep my secret, I mean. Like just between the two of us. Or maybe just forget it all together. That would be— That would be the best thing I think for you. For us, for me, I mean.”

The man was floundering. Even more so than when he'd actually been drunk. Or, maybe he was drunk now? Jack took a second to look into his eyes.

Whiskey-in-a-bottle amber, not mocha brown.

Warm, smooth, ready to make things interesting.

Jack decided he was just freaking out.

Unlike Carol, he was sure, he took pity on the man. Jack laughed, a move that didn't seem to help Benny’s nerves, and held up one hand in a stop motion.

“Don't worry. I'm not about to air your laundry out for anyone. Patron-bartender confidentiality, and all of that. If I told half of what I've heard at the bar over the years, then I would be out of a job.” He lowered his voice enough to show his sincerity. “You having a secret thing for Golden Boy isn't as juicy, or unusual, as you think. In fact, it's a song I've heard on repeat from others for years. Internet fame or not, I just don't care that much, to be honest.”

Relief, swift and true, swept across Benny. His shoulders relaxed a fraction.

Jack couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t agreed.

Had the shorter man been planning on jumping him?