Page 61 of Kismet

Branson brings his gaze back up to the phone. “So, got any plans tonight, man?”

“Yeah, actually. I’m going out to some bar with a couple of colleagues. It’s my first time going out since I moved here. Should be interesting.”

“Dope, that’ll be fun. You work with some cool people, or are they all stuffy, old professors?” He laughs at himself as he sets Kova down before coming back into view.

“Nah. Surprisingly, there are quite a few around our age.”

“Any hotties?” he asks, wagging his brows at me.

You mean aside from my new fucking boss that I can’t stand?!“A few, I guess. Not really looking, though. Plus, I work with them.”

“Who knows, my man. Maybe you can get lucky to-niiiight.” He singsongs the last part, which elicits a laugh from me.

“Okay, weirdo. I’ll talk to you later. Tell Luca I said hi and give Addy kisses.”

“Peace out, man!”

The call disconnects, and I shake my head, chuckling.

******

Bar PM is… interesting. To say the least. It’s packed wall to wall with bodies, which is to be expected on a Friday night, and you can’t compete with the drink specials. I’ve already seen three of myunderagestudents here in the thirty minutes since we arrived, which is concerning.

The live music hasn’t started yet, but the band looks to be setting up.

“So, you just moved to the area, right?” Stella, another English professor, asks. She’s the one who initially invited me out. She’s been nagging me all week about it.

“Yup,” I reply before bringing my IPA up to my lips and taking a swig.

“Where’re you from? You have a faint southern accent.”

I lean over, closer to her ear, since the band is starting up. “The accent’s from Dallas, where I’m from. But I grew up and went to college in Washington State, which is where I moved from before here.”

She turns to face me, a bright white smile on her face. “Like Seattle?”

“Nah. Other side of the state. Where are you from?”

The band starts their first set, a cover of some Theory of a Deadman song, and Stella has to lean in to reply to me. “From here. Born and raised.”

Just then, Tory and Mic stroll up to our table. Tory is a business professor and Mic is in the history department. They’re dating—well, they’re screwing. I don’t know if it’s official or not.

“Hey, hey, guys,” Mic boasts, slapping me on the back. He kind of grates my nerves, if I’m being honest, but he’s a nice enough guy.

“Hey, you guys got here just in time. The band just started playing.” I stand, stretching my arms over my head. “I’m getting another. Anyone want anything?”

“Yeah, I’ll take a Crown and Coke,” Mic replies.

Tory smiles. “Sure. Vodka cran, please.”

Looking at Stella, I ask,” For you?”

“I’ll do a vodka cran too. Thank you.”

Making my way toward the bar, I weave around the various groups of people hanging out along the way. It’s crowded as fuck in here, and there isn’t an opening at the bar, so I pull out my phone and browse social media while I wait for my turn.

Out of nowhere, I’m shoved forward, my phone falling to the ground. Whipping my head around, my gaze lands on a very fucking familiar pair of hazelnut eyes. He looks about as shocked as I feel.

“Shit. Cash, I’m sorry. It’s so crowded.” He laughs awkwardly.

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