Page 19 of Bastard Bartender

I roll my eyes at her comment and take another peek at Quinten. He is standing by himself and scrolling through his phone. He could be waiting for a date, or perhaps he just came here after work to unwind. I’m about to get up to introduce myself when I see Nic walking back toward Quinten and leaning in to talk to him. His eyes dart my way and then back to Quinten, who follows Nic’s direction to me.

“What is he doing?” I ask Marie with the utmost dread.

She cranes her neck to check again. “I think Nic is talking to him about you.”

I swivel my head just enough to watch as Nic points me out rather obviously. My face flushes with embarrassment. I don’t have low self-esteem or insecurities, but having someone ask if they think I’m attractive enough to go talk to really puts me on the spot. I’ve never been set up this way, and my goodness, it’s nerve-racking.

I’m going to kill him.

When Quintenlooks my way, I quickly turn around, acting like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“Oh, he’s a cutie,” Marie says over her drink. “And don’t worry. He’s coming this way with a really nice grin on his face.”

I’m beyond embarrassed that I’ve just come off like a seventh grader who had her friend walk over to a guy to say she liked him. Which I don’t. I mean, I don’t know him from Adam, and now, he’s going to walk on over and think I’m attracted to him. I don’t have time to dwell on it because, within seconds, he’s saying hello.

“So, I’ve been told to start off with my name being Quinten.” He chuckles nervously, confused by what Nic must have said to him. “But I’m not sure why.”

I want to be a child and stick my tongue out at Nic or give him the finger, but I refrain and smile sweetly at the guy. After all, he is cute, and his name does start with a Q.

“Hi, I’m Evette. Nic over there is just being silly. He’s a friend of mine who likes to play matchmaker.”

“Well, that’s a great friend to have. So, I’m guessing, you noticed me over there and asked him to approach? Yeah, I get that a lot. I think it’s the jawline”—he rubs his chin—“but I’ve had women tell me they like my body more. And that’s before they see the rest of me, if you know what I mean.”

The pompous expression on his face makes me want to gag, but I hold it back as I try to act like he didn’t just reference his penis.

“I didn’t ask him to send you over.”

“That’s cute. You’re shy. I like ’em docile.”

I widen my eyes in disbelief and look to Marie in shock, wondering if I misread his desire to find a submissive. She furrows her brow, seeming just as turned off as I am.

I hold out my hand to Marie and decide she needs to be part of this disaster. “This is my friend Marie.”

They exchange pleasantries, and his attention is back on me so fast that Marie gives an excuse me expression for being dismissed in such a cavalier way. She’s already not a fan, and it’s only been a few seconds. My rule is that I have to give the guy a chance even if he doesn’t start off well. Which he’s not. At all.

“Do you come here often?” he asks, and I try to hide my annoyance.

“This is actually my second time here. How about you?”

He leans in a touch. “I’m only in town for the weekend, so nope, first time for me.”

I lean back. “Oh, you’re on vacation? Why aren’t you on The Strip?”

“Thought I’d try a change of scenery. And look, I was right, as it led me to you.”

Marie picks up her drink, sticking her finger in her mouth first, pretending to gag herself. I rub my lips together, trying to act like I don’t notice.

“Listen, this is not like me, but tonight is my last night in town, and I’d really like to spend some time with you.” His eyes brazenly skim up and down my body. “Since you’re interested and I am very, very interested, let’s get out of here. I have a hotel room at—”

I hold up my hand. “Um, no. That is not what I’m looking for. That’s actually why I stay away from The Strip. I’m not trying to hook up with someone on vacation. Actually, I’m not looking to hook up at all.” My disgust for his lewd insinuation is halted when I notice the tan line on his left hand. “Let me guess … you’re actually married, and you haven’t nailed anyone the entire time you’ve been here, so that’s why you’re being so forward.”

“What makes you think that?” he asks, and I give him a sneer that lets him know I’m not an idiot. He takes a step back with open arms, as if he’s got nothing to hide. “She won’t care. We have an open relationship.”

My jaw drops, and even Marie can’t hold back jumping into this conversation. “You mean, open, like the door she should kick your ass out of?”

He steps back, amused. “Damn, you’re feisty. If you want in on this too—”

Marie takes off her heel—her very tall, very thick heel—and raises it up like it’s a weapon.