The guy from two nights ago. Marlon’s partner.
No way. No fucking way.
But it had to be. There weren’t that many gingers like that guy.
Still, it couldn’t be him. What were the chances? And Vahin hadn’t really gotten such a good look at him. The coincidence of seeing a guy who looked like Marlon’s partner when Vahin hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Marlon seemed a bit too far-fetched.
That had to be it. He’d been thinking about Marlon so much he was seeing things. Making connections where there weren’t any. Not coincidence, just certifiable insanity.
As he worked, he kept glancing back over, thinking the guy must have gone to use the restroom or something. He never showed back up.
A tap on the bar got Vahin’s attention. He glanced up to find a pretty white boy in front of him. So clean-cut, he might as well have recently graduated from Yale and was here with his fraternity buddies.
Fuck, Vahin, get your head in the game.“Hey, sorry about that. I was distracted. What can I get you?”
“Um, I’ll have a… vodka and 7.”
“Vodka and 7, coming up.” Strange, he’d expected the preppy to get a martini or craft beer. Within a moment, Vahin mixed the drink and slid it toward the man. He started to walk away and then paused, turning back to him. “Sorry, distracted, like I said. May I see an ID?”
“Sure.” He’d had the drink halfway to his lips. He paused, took a drink, then set it down and fished in his back pocket. He pulled out a glossy black wallet, flipped it open, and took out his card.
Vahin glanced at it. Twenty-two and from out of state. That explained a lot. He handed it back. “Boston, huh? Grew up close to there, but never visited. I’d like to.”
Before the guy could answer, another man walked up and stood behind his shoulder.
Vahin glanced at him. The hot ginger.
The man held out his hand over the preppy’s shoulder. It took a second for Vahin to register what he held.
A badge.
Vahin’s heart leaped and began to pound in his throat, though he wasn’t exactly sure why.
The preppy slid off the barstool and walked away, and the ginger stepped closer. “You just served alcohol to someone underage. Come outside with me.”
A million thoughts tumbled through Vahin’s mind, but none of them landed long enough to make any impact. Vahin nodded and forced himself to move.
Alex gave him a terrified look as he passed.
“Stay here.” Vahin wasn’t sure if Alex responded or if he’d even been able to hear Vahin’s whisper through the commotion of the drag show.
The ginger waited until Vahin had exited from behind the bar and walked toward him. He motioned toward the front door.
Vahin did as instructed, casting wide eyes at Pat, where she stood behind the host stand.
She started to walk around the glossy black box. “Vahin, are you okay?”
The ginger cut him off before he could reply. “Ma’am, I need you to stay here.”
Pat looked like she was going to argue, but then she nodded and moved back to where she’d been.
Cool air rushed over him as he stepped out onto the front patio. He shivered, though that may not have been due to the temperature. Everything was a blur, the streetlamps and zooming headlights hazy around him. Music from the show drifted through Mary’s open windows.
He’d served a minor?
Police?
“Over here.” The ginger took his elbow, tightly, and led him out of the patio entrance and onto the sidewalk.
