Page 10 of Bastard Bartender

Chapter Four

“Hello, Miss Lewis,” George, a security guard, greets me as I walk through the employee entrance of the newest and sexiest building in town—The Las Vegas Super Stadium.

With its sleek silver-and-black exterior and domed roof, the building looks like a bullet in the desert, and I’m more than happy to pull the trigger to set this place off at night with the hottest events.

“Hey, G. Fast hands!” I call out as I take a black ball cap out of my bag and toss it to him.

He holds his arms out and catches the Rockstar Energy hat quickly.

“It’s signed by all the artists at the Country Jam last night, and it’s yours.”

His face lights up in a huge smile that makes his cheek wrinkles deepen. “You’re kiddin’! This is amazing, but I can’t take this.”

I swipe my ID card at the desk. “Of course you can. Jason Aldean signed it. He’s your hero.”

“You already gave me and the wife those tickets. That concert was off the rails!”

I walk past the desk and down the tunnel toward my office. “Now, you have a souvenir. Enjoy it.”

“You’re the best,” he shouts out, waving the hat in the air.

I’m walking backward as I reply, “You know it!”

Working at the stadium has been an absolute dream. I get to be in a premier location and manage bookings of concerts and events, and a total bonus is, I get a glimpse at the hot football players who come strolling through the tunnels. I might not be into sports, but I’m also not blind.

Today, we received word that Rockstar Energy signed another contract with the stadium to take us into the next two years, and a motivational speaker who I follow on social media is having his next big event here instead of the Wynn. Once the contracts are signed, it’s part of my job to make sure the magic happens within the stadium walls.

Growing up in SoCal prepared me for this job. For one, I’m not afraid of famous people. I can converse with pretty much anyone, and we have the YOLO—you only live once—mentality, which pretty much makes me unafraid to try new things.

Except heights. I positively hate heights. Don’t blame me. I grew up at sea level.

At my desk, I slide off my suit jacket and get to work. The photo of my parents that sits in front of me reminds me of how much I miss them and the beach. Vegas is not forever, but I’m certainly enjoying it while I’m here.

When I turn in my seat to access the files kept behind me, I see a picture of my grandpa with his 1975 Oldsmobile. He was my favorite person in the world even if he wasn’t the best influence on me. I was devastated when he passed, but I know he’d love to see me living in Vegas now. I can only imagine him coming to visit me and staying at the craps table all night and then telling my grandma he fell asleep early.

I’m answering emails when my phone vibrates on my desk. I don’t recognize the number, but it’s a local one, so I answer cordially, “Evette Lewis.”

“Hi. This is Paul. We met at Lounge 702.”

My smile is bright as I lean back in my leather executive chair and run my fingers along the strands of my hair. “I was wondering if you were ever going to call.”

His laugh echoes through the phone. “Apparently, there’s this rule that a man can’t call a woman for five days before asking her out.”

“I didn’t take you as the type to play by archaic rules.” Not that I know much about him, but his gin drink was supposed to mean he knows what he wants.

“Chalk it up to bad advice. Am I too late? Have you been swept off your feet since we met?”

I uncross my legs and sit up straighter. “You’re just in time. I have a rule that if a man doesn’t call in five days, he doesn’t deserve my time.”

“Thank the stars for good timing. I wouldn’t want to waste any more. What are you doing tonight?”

My laugh is loud as it comes out in surprise of his request. “He waits five days and then wants a date immediately? Please don’t tell me you have a cancellation and I’m a fill-in—”

“Not at all. I’ve actually been thinking about you, and I would very much like to take you to dinner.”

I twirl a piece of my hair as I think about his offer. I hate how he waited so many days to call. It’s a game move. That, or he had someone else in mind first. But maybe, just maybe, he’s telling the truth about a friend giving him bad advice.

I’m about to open my mouth to tell him thanks, but no, thanks when something stops me. He’s P, the sixteenth man on my quest to opening up my mind. I have to give him the time even if I don’t want to. That’s the point of this exercise, and I’m not one to back down from finishing a project.