Page 15 of Eternal Hoptimist

“Uh-oh. Did someone microwave popcorn and fish again?”

He scowled. “Heathens. No. Word among the plebs is that a partner received a video of Jack drunk at a strip club. You’d have thought he was the grand marshal of the Naked Bike Ride with the amount of gossip. As if half the staff wasn’t half-drunk on New Year’s Eve.” He rolled his eyes.

Staff could get drunk, but senior associates wanting to achieve partnership were expected to exhibit more control.

“Word is he’s out of the running for promotion.”

I whistled. “Twenty bucks says we’ll have an email tomorrow about appropriate behavior and firm representation.”

Hector snorted. “I’m not taking a sucker bet.”

Out of the running forlegallydrinking andlegallyvisiting a strip club?There are so many things wrong with this place.The double standard infuriated me. As if the partners didn’t drink or visit strip clubs. Hell, they probably did it with some of our clients.

I’d been glad they didn’t blatantly bat an eye when they learned I was gay, but I felt even more pressure from them to prove I “belonged” by at least having a significant other.

I forced a laugh and stood. “Get out of here.”

“Why are you leaving so early?”

I walked to the door and gestured for him to go through ahead of me. I considered and quickly dismissed the idea of telling him about running into Ethan earlier. I hadn’t mentioned New Year’s brunch because I didn’t want to encourage further matchmaking attempts.

“I’d rather finish working at home in my sweats,” I finally said when we reached the elevator.

“Good call.”

We said goodnight, and I took a rideshare to the bar in a north Portland neighborhood. I didn’t expect the car to drop me at a two-story house a little worse for wear. A single green lightbulb shone in a window on the second floor, and I could see a television showing a sitcom through the front window. I opened the front door and entered an empty foyer with an empty living room on my left. Closed doors blocked the rest of the floor, but I could hear low chatter from wherever the bar was behind them.

Ethan’s directions said to find the bookcase. I passed two worn armchairs in front of the TV to reach the bookcase. I tugged a copy ofProhibition for Dummies,and the bookcase swung in to reveal a woman behind a host stand.

“Hi. I’m meeting someone downstairs, I believe. Ethan.”

“Perfect. He’s already here. Follow me.” She led me along a dark hallway to an even darker stairwell.The deeper we got into the building, the headier an herbaceous scent became.

When we reached the dim basement, I spotted Ethan immediately. He sat at a small table on the far side of the room. The mismatched furniture would fit in a period film set during the Prohibition era, and several chandeliers illuminated the room with warm light. I’d never been in a basement like it.

“Great choice,” I said as I approached the table.

“Hey. Thanks. I haven’t been here in ages.” He smiled, but the tension was clear in his posture. I wanted to rub his shoulders until he relaxed.

Instead, I dropped my briefcase on the ground and placed my hands on my lap. “I’ve wanted to try it but haven’t made it in. What’s good?”

“What are your thoughts on cardamom and floral flavors?”

“Favorable.”

The server appeared, and Ethan ordered two of something I’d never heard of before.

“If you don’t like it, try something else. No pressure,” Ethan said.

“I’m sure I will. You didn’t steer me wrong on New Year’s Day.”

His smile brightened. “You can’t go wrong with any of Austin’s beer.”

“What’s it like working with your friends?”

Some of the tension left his shoulders. “Amazing. The four of us have been tight since college. I worried adding a business might be too much, but we learned long ago how to handle each other’s shit: when to push and back off. We’ve been able to navigate issues pretty well.”

“Sounds like the perfect setup.”

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