Dad can say “promptly” until he’s blue in the face. The women in our family will always be late, or at least cutting itextremely close. Hence, Daisy’s delayed arrival at work. But to be fair, she did get her ass kicked this morning. I can give her a little leeway.
“Did I mention that Dad and Uncle Ant are already buzzed?”
My brow quirked, intrigued by my youngest brother’s confession.
“Are they angry buzzed or funny buzzed?”
“Funny buzzed, but I can see the scale sliding in the angry buzzed direction soon if they don’t get any food in them.”
I guess I’d better get my ass in there and play referee.
* * *
Three drinks later, I was relieved the atmosphere remained festive and agreeable. Ronan had arrived, stealing Kieran’s attention; Dad and Uncle Ant discussed sports, and Casey was preoccupied with his phone—locking down a backup date for the weekend in case the first one couldn’t make it, leaving me to drink alone towards the end of the bar.
“Hi. Is this seat taken?” I heard from beside me. I gazed up at the brunette stranger with striking blue eyes. She was objectively beautiful—gorgeous even—but she was no Kiyah Baker.
“Ye—”
“No. It’s not. Have a seat,” Casey volunteered. My head snapped in his direction, and the daggers I shot him weren’t piercing enough.
He’s not bleeding out of every orifice.
The rest of my family offered suggestive looks and smug smirks as if to say, “This is your moment! Don’t screw it up!” Dad’s expression was different—his eyes nearly pleading to make nice with her.
I held back a frustrated huff and kicked my chin out to the seat, allowing her to sit. I sipped my Moscow Mule as the menat the bar groaned and mumbled under their breaths about how hopeless I was.
I can’t even argue with them. I’m hopeless and more.
“Thanks. My name is Layla.”
I barely acknowledged her with a glance before offering her a brusque, “Grant.”
“Nice to meet you, Grant. What do you recommend?”
“You should ask the bartender. He’d know best.”
“What the fuck?” Casey murmured, chuckling into his drink.
“Yeah, I second that,” Ronan commented.
“This is too painful to watch,” Kieran whined.
“You know what, Jon? I think I figured it out,” Uncle Ant said. “I think Grant is asexual.”
I’m not asexual. I’m very sexual. I just… I’m not interested.
I felt a hand on my shoulder and caught a whiff of my father’s cologne. “Excuse me, Layla. I need to borrow Grant for a moment.”
I pushed the barstool back and followed Dad towards the men’s restroom.
“Dead man walking,” Kieran snickered, earning a smack to the back of his head. I smirked when he cursed.
Putting my siblings in their place brought me great joy.
We entered the bathroom, and Dad took a moment to ensure we were alone. He fixed his eyes on me once satisfied.
“Let… it… go.”
