Yeah, her cousin hadn’t fully bought that story either. Ugh, this was a nightmare.
“I can’t lose the house, Charlie.” Tears welled in Cassie’s eyes, emotions clogging her throat. The past few months had taken their toll, and though she’d cried for Gran, she was happy her grandmother was no longer in any pain. She was at peace. Cassie, however, had just been tossed into a tornado of suckage.
“You won’t lose it.” Charlie grabbed her hands, squeezing them, a reassuring smile on her face. “We just need to—”
“Find me a husband. Yeah, no problem. Men just love commitment in a hurry. It’s their favorite thing.”
“Your sarcasm isn’t helping.”
“It’s either sarcasm or break down and cry. And since I didn’t wear my waterproof mascara today, my choice is clear.” Pulling her hands back into her lap, Cassie glanced into her empty glass and let out a soft groan. “My drink is empty. That’s not helping either.”
Charlie grabbed their empty glasses and pushed them forward on the bar. “Normally I’d cut you off when you’re in full-on mopey mode, but in this case, I’d say more alcohol is called for.”
“I am not moping.”
“You want a drink or not?”
She mimed zipping her lips and nodded. Hey, if it’d get her more booze…
Pity party, table of me.
“Del!” Charlie leaned over the bar, tossing her stick straight locks back over her shoulder as she shouted to her brother. “We need refills.”
“Make them yourself.” The muffled voice carried through the thin walls separating the front of Jack’s from the distillery in back.
“Delta Morgan Jackson, you get your ass out here and make us some drinks or I will tell Ace about the blonde last week!”
The door to the back swung open. A very pissed off Del strode through, arms crossing over his chest as he came to stand behind the bar. “First you want me gone, now you want me back. Make up your freaking mind, Charlie. And don’t even think about telling Ace about the blonde or I’ll tell him and BJ about that jackass with the hipster beard you went home with last week.”
“For the last time, I can date who I want, and I’m not scared of any of you.”
She stuck her tongue out at her brother. He threw his hands up in the air, turning to grab the ingredients for their drinks.
“What did he do with the blonde?” Cassie asked in a hushed voice. She only wanted to know because she was curious as to what would have Del running to do his sister’s bidding, not because of that odd feeling she got in the pit of her stomach whenever she thought of Del involved with a woman.
“Some blonde bimbo came in last week and flirted with Del all night. Far be it from me to disparage our gender, but the chick was oozing desperation.”
“She was not. She was nice,” Del commented as he poured olive juice into the shaker with the vodka.
“How could you tell how nice she was when all your focus was on her rack?”
He gave his sister the middle finger which she returned, adding a clever music box motion and sound effect as she lifted her own finger.
“Anyway,” Charlie continued, “after a whole night of batting her eyelashes and pushing her cleavage up higher than God, she managed to get idiot over here to comp her entire bill. One-hundred dollars’ worth.”
Cassie cocked a brow. “Wow, that’s a lot of booze.”
“Not really.” Del glared at his sister. “She’s a distributor for a restaurant chain in Denver and I sent her home with a bottle of our gin and vodka. I was making a business connection. And I plan on telling Ace and BJ about it when she puts in an order. Which she will.”
That made sense. Their bottles were over thirty dollars a pop. Worth every penny, too. The Jacksons knew their distilling.
“You were making a connection alright,” Charlie muttered under her breath.
“Here.” Del slid the gin and tonic to his sister. “I hope you choke on it. Not you Cassie,” he added, sliding her dirty martini over. “Enjoy it. In fact, I’m such a nice guy to everyone I won’t even make you honor our bet this time.”
Grateful she didn’t have to repeat the stupid mixer-god phrase—why had she bet on a pair of aces?—she smiled. “Thanks, Del.”
“At least someone around here appreciates me.”