Page 19 of Business or Pleasure

“Wanker,” I muttered as he laughed. “Don’t worry. I have no intention of hitting on your employee. If I want a date, I’ll look elsewhere.”

“Glad to hear it.” He raised a hand to signal our server. “Now, let’s hear about the dessert options.”

Seven

Harlee

“Water, please,” I shouted over the music.

I’d already had two shots of tequila and a beer at the previous bar Jin, and I had gone to, and while that had done wonders flooding my brain with dopamine, it did little to keep me hydrated. I was sweating, and I wasn’t the only one. My best friend – pretty much my only friend – was still spinning around out there, her sable-colored hair plastered to her forehead. Between it being a Saturday night and a live band performing, the place was packed. I doubted the next stop on our pub crawl would be quite as crowded.

“Two bottles of water!” I held up two fingers.

By the time the bartender handed over two bottles, Jin Renshaw had joined me, dark eyes sparkling. Three inches taller than me, with just as many curves, she was a knock-out. When we first met, we were both teenagers, but I never had any of the confidence problems Jin did. She was a gawky teen, overweight, and with bad skin. By the time we aged out of the system, that extra weight had become curves, and her skin had cleared up. She learned how to do her make-up, got a few piercings, and finally had the money to act on her fashion sense. Now, she had her pick of men.

Which was a good thing since she liked all types.

“Water.” I held out a bottle.

“Tequila!” she shouted.

I narrowed my eyes. Jin drank more than me, though she didn't always remember to drink water too. “Water first.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She laughed and drank half the bottle in one go. “Always looking out for me.”

“Always.” I bumped her arm with mine, smiling.

She was right. I was always looking out for her. Ever since I was fifteen and some assholes jumped her. They paid for it, and we became inseparable. And it was a good thing because she didn’t always make the best decisions, mainly when men and alcohol were involved.

“I’m so happy for you.” Jin threw her arm around my neck. “Your dream job!”

I wasn’t sure if I could call it my ‘dream job’ since I hadn’t dreamed of a specific job or career, but I understood what she meant. Furthermore, saying I had my dream job was a lot easier than saying I had a full-time job with benefits. Maybe.

“I wish those assholes from school could see you now,” she said. “All those people who thought we were trash because we were foster kids. They’d all be kissing your ass if they knew you were working at a place like MIRI.”

I doubted that, but I wasn’t going to argue with her. It never did any good to go against Jin, especially when she had this much to drink.

“Jin?”

She turned to see a hulking blond with stringy hair and a tight black t-shirt coming toward us. Despite how packed The Black Crow was tonight, people moved out of his way. Considering he looked like someone crossed a Hell’s Angel with an actual angel of hell, I wasn’t surprised. Nor was I surprised when Jin launched herself at him with a squeal.

She and Quaid had been on-again-off-again for the last six years, usually off when he was in jail for whatever small-time shit he got caught doing. Last I heard, the guy was doing two to five for possession with intent to sell. He must’ve gotten out for good behavior. Or he rolled on someone higher up the food chain.

Still, Quaid was better than some of the other assholes Jin dated. At least he never hurt her. Hell, he never even cheated on her. They argued and broke up over stupid stuff. He was usually getting arrested again or getting drunk and forgetting her birthday—that sort of thing.

When they started making out, I just laughed and shook my head. Some other women might’ve been bothered if they’d gone out with their friend and she went off with some guy, but Jin and I weren’t like that. I gave her a little wave to let her know she could keep on going. I could entertain myself for a while.

I drained my water and ordered another shot. I was here to celebrate, after all. Because I didn't have to work tomorrow, I didn't keep track of the time. Instead, I just enjoyed the music. The band was excellent, putting on a good show and had people dancing.

As I finished my drink, the bartender slid me a glass of something pink and pointed to a guy across the bar. The man looked like he was in his forties and his clothes were too nice for this place. Likely a divorced bank or investment manager, looking for a bit of fun. Not that I cared what a hookup did for a living. Hell, I rarely asked for names.

I nodded in his direction and took a drink, waiting for him to come to me. He wasn't bad-looking. It didn’t take long. Another sip later, and he plopped down on the stool next to me.

“Hey.”

I played with the straw. “Hey.”

“I’m Craig.”

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