Page 14 of Bastard Bartender

I look at my filled glass. “I’m good—”

“You’re gonna need it.”

I don’t know if it’s because he thinks I’m being drab and have to up my level of spirit or because he’s finding Paul irritating and feels I need to be drunk to be around him. Regardless, he’s pretty confident in his choice, and I like free drinks, so I accept it.

“Your table is ready,” the hostess says to me with two menus in her hands.

Her presence causes Paul and Arianna to break apart, and they look almost sad to have to bid each other adieu.

I start to walk toward the table when I hear Paul say, “You two should join us.”

Nic is quick to reply, “No, it’s okay—”

“We’d love to!” Arianna brushes past me and walks toward the table.

Paul follows her, and I’m left standing by the bar with two cocktails in my hands.

Nic strides up next to me and stops as we watch my date pull out a chair for his.

“What just happened?” I ask, dumbfounded.

“I think my date just ditched me for your date.” He grins.

“What do we do?”

Nic lifts his glass to his lips. “Well, we could sit down and endure an interesting evening of Hoosier talk. It will be fast though. Valducci’s is known for their quick turnaround.”

“So I’ve heard,” I murmur.

“Or”—he turns to me fully and grins—“we could finish these drinks at the bar. If they notice we’re still here by the time our glasses are empty, we’ll resume our dates. Kind of like how you and Marie like to order one drink and see if anyone picks you up before they’re gone.”

“How did you know about that?”

“I told you, I notice a lot from the other side of the bar.” That devious expression is in the tilt of his mouth. “Shall we?”

I look over at Paul, who is leaning over the table as he and Arianna start calling out foods.

“Fried Oreos,” he says.

“Fried Twinkies,” she counters.

“Fried pickles,” he chimes.

“Fried elephant ears.” She laughs.

I lift my glasses in the air and walk them back to the small bar. “Yeah, let’s finish these here. Looks like I’m double-fisting these.”

He grins as he pulls out a now-empty stool and motions for me to sit. “As I recall, you’re a pretty good drunk. You had five drinks the other night and held your own.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. I could use one right now.” I turn to him, and my hair falls over my eye. “Should I be wildly offended that my date finds yours more fascinating? What does a girl gotta do to get noticed in this town?”

The deep, throaty chuckle shows he couldn’t care less. “What happens in Vegas—”

“Yeah, yeah. Heard that one.”

He lifts his hand to my face and pushes the rogue hair behind my ear. “If you need a compliment, then let me give you one. You look hot in that dress. Purple is definitely your color. And you smell delicious. Is that coconut? Okay, so that was two compliments.” As he lowers his hand, he leans back on his heels and assesses me. “Does this mean you’re giving up on the great alphabet search for love?”

“Never,” I state easily.