“That can’t be right.”

“Take it up with the owner,” he nods towards the bar and then walks away to deliver the drinks.

It hasn’t let up in here, he’s run off his feet and has no time to talk to me, so I’m not mad about his dismissal. As people leave, more show up. There is still no sign of Reed, so I go to the bar. A woman with dark hair in a high ponytail and heavy bangs comes over.

“What can I get you, hon?” she slaps a coaster down on the bar in front of me.

“Your IPA,” I lean forward. “That’s exclusive?”

She looks up at me, then points to a sign on the wall. It says what the server out of the floor said. A picture of the beer and a sign reading the 312 IPA is only served at Blue’s Hideaway and will not be sold anywhere else. I can’t help but grin at the caveat at the bottom. ‘SO DON’T ASK.’

“You get asked all the time?” I lean an elbow on the bar.

“Allthe time,” she winks. “You about to try to convince me, sugar?”

“Are you the one I need to convince?”

“You could try, but it’s written into our contracts. And I love this job too much to risk it.”

“You serious?”

She laughs loudly, as if that is an answer. “You want a 312?”

I lean back as she turns to the fridges behind the counter. As she bends over, the hot bartender walks over to pass a group of women their cocktails. She does a double take when she sees me, then looks away.

“You won’t be convinced, will you?” I ask as the woman hands me my beer. Her eyes cut between me and the other bartender, and she gives me a knowing smile.

“Smart guy,” she grins. “Is that tab or charge?”

I take out a fifty and had it over. “Keep the change.”

“Thank you kindly, sir,” she winks again, then walks away, pausing when she realizes how much I gave her.

She hip checks the other bartender as she passes. Not in an angry get out of my way move, more to get her attention. She leans in and whispers something. Both of them look at me. I’m not intimidated. But there is something going on I don’t know about. Intriguing.

There is no sign of Reed, so I stay by the bar. She knows I’m watching her, but is ignoring me. Five minutes go by with me sipping the beer and her serving customers. Both of us are well aware of the other.

I’ve been watching our table. A group of men took it not long after I walked away. So far, there has been no sign of Reed. He’s not my problem. Should I be concerned?. Maybe he got lucky, I chuckle to myself.

“You’re one of those guys, huh?”

My head snaps back to her. She has her own bottle of 312, holding it between her thumb and index finger at the top of the neck. There is something sensual about it that has my heart pounding faster.

“Meaning?”

“Coming over here to get me to sell this outside of the bar,” she thumbs at the sign.

“No, I’ve already figured no matter what I say, the owner will not go for it.”

“You’ve got that right.” She rests one hip against the bar.

“And nothing will make them distribute it?”

Her head cocks to the side as she studies me. “Let me guess, you think you can sell it for them? Make them thousands of dollars. You think we haven’t heard that a million times before?”

“Not me, that’s not my business, but they could make a lot, nationally, at a minimum. If they export it, that’s guaranteed to be more than a few thousand.”

“And you think the owner hasn’t thought all of that through?”