A younger guy, a baby compared to the fossils at the bar though at least a few years older than me, sat at a table against the far wall. The sandy colored curls danced when he looked away from me. His attention earned a hint of a smile. If I wanted free drinks, it was good to know I had a target I’d enjoy looking at, at least. He could have done without the beard, though. The world would have been a better place if beards had never come back into style.
“What can I get you, lass?” asked the bartender, brighter eyed than when he’d served the ass, unsurprisingly. I’d rather serve me than him too.
“I’ll have what my sour friend here is having.” I motioned to the man he’d just served. My fingers slid over the dark wood of the bar as I neared. “But make it a double.”
With a nod, the bartender turned to grab a glass. I plopped down on the stool next to the ass. His mouth opened a couple times like a goldfish. He didn’t know what to say. I leaned close and nudged him. He flinched away.
“Why are you pestering me?” he stammered with a renewed glare.
“It seemed you had an issue with me. I thought we could smooth it out. I’d buy you a drink or something.” I pointed to the furry little purse hanging on the front of his kilt. “I mean, is there even room in that little purse for your wallet?”
His hands darted to cover the purse. He glared at me, all his defenses up. I couldn’t blame him for that. If the kilt were on the other’s hips, I’d have confused myself too. That was the point, to keep him off guard, unsure of my next move.
“I don’t need some bastard get to buy me drinks,” the ass bellowed. “I just want to be left alone, thank you very much.”
The bartender inched closer with my glass. His beady eyes fluttered between me and my angry neighbor. Some people just couldn’t handle a little conflict; even an uncomfortable social situation like this had them cringing. A pity for them. A little conflict could be so convenient, same with that cringe.
“Oh, I’m not a fan of crowds myself,” I replied as if we were old friends, “that’s why I snuck in here. I mean, what’s the point of coming all this way if I can’t take advantage of the lower drinking age? I have to wait over a year before I can drink in a bar or a pub back home. At least without one of my fake IDs.”
I nudged him before snatching my glass from the bar and gulped half of it in one go but held myself back before finishing it. As the beautiful burn coated my throat, the drink in my hand careened toward the ass’s drink. Our glasses clanked violently. His dropped to the bar and splattered his tux coat. He pushed his phone across the bar, away from the dropped glass and scrambled to pat the whisky away. I enjoyed the rest of my drink and thunked it against the bar.
“Oh, no!” I cried as if what I’d done was an accident.
Wide eyed, mouth agape, I faked a look of sympathetic surprise. Ms. Devlin, my high school drama teacher for all four years, had taught me nothing compared to what I learned from Mom every damn day. Actors play for the audience. They overdo it, smash the meaning off the stage and screen to reach them. I only needed to convince my scene partners.
I tore half a dozen napkins from the nearest holder and slapped them against his stomach. My forearm covered his phone. He pushed at my hands and sputtered but couldn’t form a word. The furry little purse jingled under my hand. A little squeeze and the ass recovered enough sense to stop me.
“Why you stupid little th—” he shouted after latching his fingers around my wrist.
“You fucking pervert!” I strained my voice to make it screech.
The ass’s grip on my wrist held when I jerked my arm close to my chest. My other hand slapped over his, holding it to my breast. The bartender stared wide eyed. All the rage the ass’s looks had built up inside me fed my outraged expression.
“Just because I spilled your drink doesn’t give you the right to grope me,” I screeched and slapped his hand.
Wide eyed, he threw his hands up, leaned away from me like I was a live wire with lightning arching all over my body. The shock gave way to anger. He flushed purple and waggled his finger.
“Now see here, I don’t know what your fucking game is.” His whole hand shook as he shouted. “I never tried to grope you. You were trying to steal from me.”
“What!? I was trying to help dry the spill.” I stood and pulled my wallet out, shaking my head at the ass.
I’d gone into the pub with no real plan other than get a drink and find a way to screw with the ass who’d annoyed me earlier. Mission more than accomplished, I checked both boxes off my to-do list. It was time to make my exit. I just needed to drop a £20 note on the bar and slip away before he stopped me.
That note fluttered out of my fingers as I stepped toward the door. The ass’s clammy fingers snatched my wrist. They slipped off before he had a chance to stop me. He groaned behind me. I spun to find him wincing in pain. The younger guy who had been sitting in the corner loomed over him, meaty hand clamped over the older man’s wrist.
“I think you should keep your hands to yourself, aye?” His deep voice rumbled dangerously.
“Who the fuck asked you?” the ass had some balls to bellow at the younger, taller and much stronger man.
“I didn’t need a white knight,” I snapped at my supposed savior.
He frowned at me, head flinching back. I couldn’t help but chuckle. Had he really thought I’d swoon at the big strong man protecting me from the ass? At least he’d aided in my escape. He watched with a furrowed brow, still squeezing the older man’s wrist as I neared the door.
Before I opened it, I glanced back. The white knight’s lips goldfished. I’d tongue tied two men in the pub, four today counting my cousins and that was not even near the record – not even close.
“Who the hell are you?” Pain lanced the ass’s voice. He squinted at the White Knight. “What fam—”
I might have misjudged the color of my supposed savior’s cloak. He displayed its black inner lining with the way he interrupted the ass’s line of questions. In one fluid movement, he yanked the man’s wrist down. The ass’s head smacked into the bar. He crumpled to the floor. I stepped out onto the sidewalk.
