Page 27 of Bastard Bartender

“You got it. Nic?” Sammy asks.

“I see a bottle of Casamigos. Tell the bartender you want Blanco,” Nic replies with cash in his hands. Only a bartender would be quick to heavily tip, even when the drinks are free. “You sure you don’t want one?”

There’s a challenge in Nic’s eyes that makes me want to say yes, but I don’t.

The three of them take their shots as Tom comes walking back over to us. He looks so formal in his suit and tie while my friends are dressed down in jeans. I step beside him and introduce him to Sammy and Nic.

“The work husband!” Marie says with glee as she hugs Tom, someone whom she’s met many times at concerts and work events.

“Causing a raucous?” he asks her, and she beams at him with a nod. “Sammy, I’ve heard so much about you. Evette has the nicest things to say. And I’ve quite enjoyed Marie’s stories.”

Sammy shakes Tom’s hand, and then Tom turns to Nic.

“Mike—”

“Nicolás,” Nic corrects him as he extends his hand.

“Yes, Nicholas—”

“Nicolás,” I say, putting extra emphasis on the lahs portion of his name to drive home exactly how to say it.

Nic smiles, but the there’s a strain in his forearm, which I presume is from the forceful way he’s gripping Tom’s hand.

Tom’s smile is stern as he replies, “My apologies. Nice to meet Evette’s new friend.”

The men release hands, and Tom flexes his at his side while Nic crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“We were trying to get this one to have a shot with us, but she can’t because she’s on the clock.” Marie pouts. “What do you say, Tom? Is there a way you can let our girl have some fun and enjoy a concert for once?” She’s batting her lashes, which I should tell her will have zero effect on the situation.

“Tom’s not my boss. He doesn’t decide when I stay or go. We’re partners,” I explain.

“It’s like a marriage of sorts. We each take care of the family.” Tom’s analogy has me looking at him sweetly.

“Great. You can do a solid and take over the familial responsibilities for the rest of the evening,” Nic states.

I shake my head because my job is my responsibility. Plus, I could never ask Tom to take over for me.

“Unless you don’t think Evette deserves to have some fun.”

I motion to Nic to explain, but Tom cuts in, “I want Evette to have fun?” His tone is more like a question than a statement.

I explain to my friends, “The sponsors are still upstairs. We have to get back.”

“Well, actually”—Tom sways his head—“they don’t want us babysitting them anymore. I have a feeling they were holding back a little because we were so on top of them. Let them relax and enjoy the show. Their daughters already did the before-show meet and greet with Justin, so they’re all happy. You should stay with your friends.”

“I couldn’t.”

“You should. Have some fun. I’ll take care of this. Besides, my sister is here with my nieces. I’ll bring them with me to the meet and greet, and then the night is over.”

“Are you sure?” I ask Tom because I really want to ensure this is cool with him and he’s not doing it because he feels pressured by my friends.

He lays a hand on my arm. It’s tender and warm. “Have a drink and watch the show. I’ll come get you if there are any fires to put out.”

I smile because he’s using our phrase for when things go wrong. Hopefully, there will be no fires this evening—big or small. There shouldn’t be since we are well into the evening. “I owe you one.”

“You do.” He smiles as he looks at his watch. “I have to go. Have fun.”

He walks backward and heads to the other set of chairs in the VIP area, where a woman and children are seated. They must be his sister and nieces.