Page 2 of Bastard Bartender

“I’m Marie, and this is my friend Evette.” She shimmies in her seat as she holds up her hand with two fingers lifted. “We’ll take two Jack and Sevens.”

“Evette. That’s a very beautiful name.” His eyes crinkle as he looks at me, his full mouth widening into a picture-perfect smile. “Welcome to Lounge 702.”

He turns to grab the bottle of Jack Daniel’s and two highball glasses. As he leans down to get ice, his eyes meet with mine again, and I swear, I feel my heart skip a beat when he winks. My face must flush because the way his lips tilt to the side proves he saw my traitorous body’s reaction, yet with his cocky grin, I think he expects it from every girl he meets at this bar.

Marie’s hand on my arm gets my attention. “You seriously need to consider taking a night off from this experiment and totally go after this guy. He’s gorgeous.”

I arch my neck toward her and talk in a loud whisper, “That’s the point. Looks aren’t supposed to matter. Trust the process, remember?” I throw the advice she gave to me a few weeks ago when I was ready to throw in the towel.

“Yeah, but there wasn’t a hot-as-hell guy who just gave you the I’m totally interested in you expression.”

I roll my eyes. “We’ve been here for a minute, and he winked. I’m sure he does that to every girl who sits here.”

“He didn’t do it to me.”

“You’re practically married,” I hiss.

“He doesn’t know that,” she hisses back.

“Two Jack and Sevens,” Nic says as he pours the 7UP in the glasses, disrupting our conversation. We sit up straight and watch as he squeezes a lime into them. Then, he wipes his hand on the towel before sliding us our first libations of the night. “Do you want to start a tab?”

We shake our heads, knowing we only buy one drink. If we don’t run into any eligible bachelors by the time our drinks are gone, we move to the next bar.

I hold out my cash to buy our round, and just as fast as he arrived, he’s gone and onto other patrons.

We sip our drinks and take in our surroundings. A cute guy in the corner catches my eye, so I sit up taller, seeing if I can get him to look my way. He has wavy hair and is smartly dressed in jeans and a polo. When he smiles at a girl who’s heading toward him, it’s obvious the two are together, so I twist and see who else is here.

“Oh, incoming. Eight o’clock.” Marie nudges me with an alert that someone is approaching us.

I turn in time as a handsome guy with dark blond hair and a crooked grin lays a hand on the back of my chair and leans in.

“Is it okay if my friend and I squeeze in to order some drinks?”

I motion toward the space between me and Marie and let him get closer to the bar to order. There’s another guy behind him—the friend, I presume. They are checking out what beers are on tap when Marie gets my attention.

He’s cute, she mouths.

I nod in agreement.

Nic approaches and takes their drink orders—two Coors Lights—and raises his brow as he stares from me to the guy standing incredibly close. As Nic starts pouring the drinks, the guy steps back and looks at me and Marie.

“Are you ladies in town for the weekend?”

His question makes me cringe. It’s the typical thing a man asks when he’s only here for a tourist hook-up.

No, Evette. You shouldn’t judge someone based on their poor choice of pick-up lines. That’s the point of this.

“We live here in Vegas,” Marie answers. “I’m from Henderson originally, and my friend is a transplant from San Diego.”

He nods, not seeming annoyed that we’re locals, which is a good thing. “That’s cool. My friend and I are from Texas, but we work over at the Bellagio. We have degrees in hotel management, and where better to get the experience than a city built around tourism?”

I smile because their story is familiar to mine. An out-of-towner coming to Sin City for opportunity.

“I’m Evette.” I hold out my hand in introduction.

“Shawn,” he says, and my hand instinctually loosens. He tilts his head as his eyes squint, probably wondering why I seem not as enthusiastic as I was a moment ago.

Shawn is a nice name but not the name I’m looking for.