Page 3 of Whiskey Darling
Covering my irritation, I tuck my journal inside my purse.
When he pushes away, the table shakes so violently the second tower of glasses tumbles in a loud clatter. There’s the angry scrape of a chair against hardwood flooring somewhere behind us, but Mac’s scowl distracts me. As the manager on duty, he’s been watching the exchange from behind the bar. He badly wants to intervene.
I shake my head, backing him off. We have this under control.
“Bitches.” Drunk Guy gestures at the shot glasses with a broad sweep of his arm. “Waste of good whiskey, if you ask me.”
“Oh, no.” Jade giggles in mock horror. “You called us a bad word. Hope we don’t spend all night crying into our pillows.”
I bite back a smile as he glares at us, speechless, then whirls away. Returning to his friends, he stumbles when one punches him in the arm. When they order a consolation round of whiskey, I grimace because it’s tossed back without fanfare.
Waste of good whiskey? Funny, I’m thinking the same thing.
Mac delivers my fee, intent on blocking any further advances from our drunk harasser, but I don’t think the guy will bother us anymore tonight.
Because of my recommendation, the bridal party ordered one more round of Four Roses as they closed out. Along with my hundred-dollar tip, they left Mac fifty dollars before streaming out of The Glenn in a glittery display of coltish legs, high heels, and high-pitched tipsy laughter.
Jade kisses me on the cheek when I press half of the money into her palm. The show of affection draws delighted catcalls from several tables.
Rolling her eyes, Jade digs through her purse, searching for a cell phone. “I’ll call Uber. Hey, we’re on for dinner at your parents’ tomorrow, right?”
A hand gently grasps my elbow before I can answer.
“Allie Darling? Excuse me, but may I have a moment?”
I brace for another round with a drunk who believes women should drink only wine or sugary cocktails with frivolous names. Or maybe a misguided fool who saw two best friends show a sliver of public affection for one another and thinks he stands a chance.
He’s handsome, with pale blue eyes and a tumble of light brown hair. Tall, with shoulders broad as barn doors. Somewhere around the age of thirty, tan, and athletically fit, he’s dressed casually in black pants. His dark blue shirt sleeves are rolled up, exposing an exceptional set of forearms. He smiles at me.
He’s not drunk.
Maybe he’s one of the new professionals who’ve recently discovered The Glenn. Or a rival bar owner. A few have approached lately, looking to get me on their payroll.
When his hand remains on my elbow, my eyebrows lift, and he responds with a mischievous wink. Jade is no longer rummaging in that huge, designer tote bag. She’s staring at him, practically drooling over his golden boy good looks.
“Excuse us. We’re just leaving.” I tug my arm from his grasp.
“Please. One question. I won’t keep you long.” He retreats until a respectable distance yawns between us. “And I swear I’m not an asshole like that other guy. You handled him very professionally, by the way. I was ready to kick his ass for you if it was needed.”
“Jesus, he smells good,” Jade mutters. “What cologne is that?”
“I’ll tell you later.” His smile is a flash of blinding white directed at Jade, who actually blushes. “You smell delicious, too, by the way.”
My best friend and this guy exchange glances capable of igniting the entire bar. The flaring magnetism is practically combustible, and Jade inches closer, her saucy grin widening.
I sigh in exasperation.
“Well? Go ahead. Ask your question.” Exasperated, I’m certain we’re being primed for some lame pick-up line.
I can resist. I’m not sure Jade can. She’s licking her lips like this guy is dessert.
“I want you to work for us, Miss Darling. You see, I’m offering you a job.”
