Page 65 of Vodka And Virtue

“You look great. Do you know what you’re gonna say?”

“I’ve got it all planned out. Bring him a fizzy flamingo. Tell him COCKtail Cupid is running late.”

I smiled as I mixed the pink fruity drink, knowing it was one of Ryan’s favorites. My heart raced as I carried the drink into the lounge, anticipation and excitement making my stomach roll.

“My compliments, sir,” I said, placing the drink before him with a flourish. “Your date is running a few minutes behind. Is there anything else I can get you while you wait?”

Ryan gave me a cheeky smile. “No, thank you. And might I say, sir, the service here is excellent.” He winked playfully, getting into the game. I wondered if he had any idea what was about to happen.

I returned to the bar and asked my brother, “What’s next?”

“Ring up a receipt. Bring it to him, and when he hands you his credit card, pretend like it’s declined. Don’t take any payment from him.”

I printed out the receipt, tucked it into a black leather billfold, and returned to Ryan’s table.

Fizzy Flamingo $14.99

Tax Due $0.90

$0.75

Total Due $16.64

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Tip $3.32

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Total $19.96

“Here’s your bill,sir. I'm sorry, your date canceled on you. You shouldn’t date guys who stand you up at a bar. You can do much better for yourself than that,” I ad libbed.

“He’s not coming?” Ryan looked confused and disappointed. His big blue Bambi eyes were actually making me feel ashamed of myself for lying to him, even though I had good reason.

“I’m sorry, sir. He canceled. He said you were nothing but a Boytoy,” I improvised. “Do you have a credit card to pay this bill with?”

He handed me his credit card without even looking at the bill. “I thought you said it was compliments of the house,” he mumbled under his breath. I smiled like a fool on my return trip to the bar.

I busied myself closing out customers’ tabs before returning to Ryan. “I’m sorry, sir,” I said, with my best fake empathetic tone of voice. “Your card has been declined. Do you happen to have another?”

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, digging into his wallet. Ryan handed me a second credit card. I accepted it gratefully and walked away, knowing he was glaring daggers at my back. After killing five more minutes, I returned again to his table with a frown. “I’m sorry, sir, this card has been declined as well.”

“Carlisle! Quit it. There’s plenty of room on that card.”

“I’m sorry, sir. It looks like you’ve been stiffed, screwed, and stuck.”

It was hard to keep a straight face as I repeated the words my brother told me to say, the words Ryan had used to describe to Carson about the way he felt the night they met.

Recognition dawned in his topaz blue eyes. A smile turned the corners of his frown upward. “Well, that sucks for me. I sure hope there’s a hunky bartender on duty who might be able to drive me home.”

Someone, probably my cousin, rang the brass bell above the bar, the sound reverberating throughout the entire bar and lounge areas. I stepped back as my brother took my place, taking a knee before Ryan.

Ryan gasped, fanning his face as his eyes filled with tears.

“Boytoy, I'll gladly pay your bill and give you a ride home in exchange for your hand in marriage. I know I’m not much, just a hunky bartender,” he quipped, winking playfully at Ryan. “You’re so much more than I deserve. But if you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life watching baking shows with you and mixing your favorite drinks. Will you marry me, Ryan Middleton?”

Ryan practically tackled my brother, melting into his arms, choking his airway with a tight hug, as he chanted yes over and over again. “Yes! I’ll marry you, Cary! Yes, yes, yes!”

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