Page 36 of The Barkeep and the Bro

“So, did you get any?” Natasha asked, raising her eyebrows.

“I’m your boss,” I said.

“I care about your health.”

I rolled my eyes at her glorious leaps of logic. Charlie got quiet and seemed intent on hearing my answer.

“It’s none of your business.” I knew I should leave, but I was enjoying the camaraderie with my team.

Natasha studied my face. “I can’t tell if that’s a hell yes or a hell no.”

“Natasha, let the man enjoy his private life,” Charlie said, without the usual enthusiasm in his voice.

“I had fun spending time with my friends.”

Natasha sighed at my answer.

I glanced at Charlie, whose cheeks flushed with color. He probably didn’t want to hear anything about the sex life of his middle-aged gay boss.

“Hey, Mitch, I actually had an idea.” Charlie scratched at his chin. “What did you think when everyone at Remix began belting out that song that was on the screen?”

“‘Don’t Cry for Me Argentina’?” My ears still rang with the offkey pitches of a hundred drunk gay men.

“What if we did something like that here?”

“We do a monthly LGBTQ+ night.”

“What if we did it weekly, and if there was a theme of musicals? Not to stereotype but…”

I shrugged. “My people love musicals.”

I mean,Ididn’t. But I was in the minority. I couldn’t suspend my disbelief enough to follow people breaking into song. I wasn’t much of a talker, and I definitely wasn’t a singer.

“We could play clips of musicals on all the TVs, and people can sing along. Everyone was really into it. I think it’d be a more fun hook than a generic gay night once a month. Do you want to go with your friends to another LGBTQ+ night, or do you want to go with your friends to belt out musical theater in a crowded bar?”

He had a point. Attendance at our monthly queer night had been dwindling; going to a bar owned by a gay man had become less of a selling point as the country embraced gay rights and marriage equality. The name came to me in an instant.

“Musical Mondays,” I whispered.

Natasha sat up straight. Charlie pointed at me. “Heck, yeah. There it is. Musical Mondays, baby!”

“My sister can whip up flyers to put up and post online,” Natasha said.

I nodded along, the idea forming in my head. Even if Musical Mondays attracted a few people, that’d be better than the dead zone we were currently experiencing on Mondays. We had nowhere to go but up.

“Good thinking, Charlie,” I said.

“Leave it to the straight guy to coin the new queer night,” Natasha said with a laugh.

Right, I reminded myself. Charlie was straight, despite what dirty thoughts swirled in my head. The more I thought about him, the more awkward this would be for everyone.

12

MITCH

Ihad to hand it to the kid. Musical Mondays was a hit right out of the gate. Our deadest night of the week now had a pulse. More than half of the tables were full, and the place was alive. We set up the TVs behind the bar to play YouTube clips of old Broadway performances.

I nearly got my two front teeth knocked out because of some guy throwing his hands out singing along to “Rose’s Turn” fromGypsy.

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