Page 5 of Red's Revenge

“Lady, can’t you see I’m busy?” I arch a brow and look around.

“I don’t see anyone else waiting.” He throws a towel over his shoulder and braces his hands on the bar.

The action makes the veins in his arms pop, and I’m sure he thinks it’s intimidating, but all it does is make me appreciate how the men around her are grown.

“You ain’t from around here, are you ,Sugar?” Ugh, and he ruined it.

“No. Menu?” He shakes his head and slaps one down in front of me.

Something smashes, and I turn to see the bat going through the wall inches away from the dangling man’s face.

Wonder what he did?

I turn back and sip my drink as I look over the menu.

“YOU’RE PAYING FOR THAT!” The bartender slams his fist on the bar, and my drink almost spills.

I glare at him, but he’s not paying me any attention. The shouting returns to a manageable level, and the country music that was drowned out filters back into my ears. I’d rather listen to the fighting.

“Now, what you want, lady?” The original guy who made my drink is back, looking seriously annoyed.

Before I can answer, a bell rings loudly, and the music changes.

“What the fuck?” I look around and see a girl climbing onto a mechanical bull.

“Seriously? I shake my head as the cheering starts up.

“Let me get an order of cowboy fries.” I push the menu back and drain my glass.

I close my eyes and shake my head to dispel the sudden rush the liquor gives me.

“Want another?” Blinking slowly, I look at the guy like he’s nuts.

“What did you make her?” Arm candy is back and glaring at his coworker.

“Um, a Long Island Iced Tea?” The younger bartender says, blushing crimson.

“Fuck, lady, are you ok?” I look between them, confused.

“This fuck doesn’t know how to make that or where to find it on a map. What’d you pour?” My eyes widen when the kid shrugs, grabs four bottles off the shelf, and puts them in front of us.

“I top it with seltzer.” I read the label and frown.

Vodka, rum, gin, and tequila are all correct, at least, but no wonder I’m pleasantly buzzed.

“Go home, Josh. Here, drink this,” A tall glass of water appears in front of me.

“Thanks,” I start to drink, and he suddenly pulls it away, splashing it all over.

“SLOWLY! I ain’t cleaning up your vomit.” I narrow my eyes at him.

“Does your boss know how rude you guys are to customers?” He snorts and lets go of the glass.

“I am the boss.” Figures with that attitude.

“Nice. So much for southern hospitality.” He uses the towel on his shoulder to clean up the spill as he smirks.

“Welcome to Texas,” he mutters as the crowd cheers again.

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