Magical Midlife Madness (Leveling Up #1)(20)

“Go home, Bridie, you’re drunk,” Niamh said.

“Yes, I am and it’s your fault.” I directed my point at her. “What’s your story, Bridie, you going home?” If I didn’t pee now, I’d have to use the bushes later. In this state, I’d probably fall on my back and pee all over my shoes.

“There’s…ah…” Austin scratched his nose, and I could tell he was trying to hide a smile. “There’s a bathroom just down the stairs, there.”

I had a feeling I’d said that last bit out loud.

“You did,” he said. “And that bit, too. I don’t think your verbal filter is working.”

“I do know where the bathroom is, good sir, I thank you. We are well acquainted, John and I.” I gestured like he was a knight and I was a lady. Half of that was probably correct. “But you do not need to walk me home. Thank you, it’s very gent-le-man-ly—phew, that was a long one—but I am well versed in navi… in getting home.” All that almost sounded like English. I was doing just fine. “Also, I need to pay my bill.”

“Your tab is covered, and you do need an escort.”

“Nia-vvvve will watch me. She is a record holder for rock throwing, I am nearly positive.”

I slid off the bar stool, hit the floor wrong, and pitched forward. I adjusted my weight, because this was not my first rodeo, and would’ve swayed to a stop if a strong hand hadn’t wrapped around my upper arm.

“Unhand me, you fiend,” I mumbled, wondering which movie that was from. Or if it was from a movie at all. I suspected it was, if only because I felt certain a sword would have completed the scene.

“Sounds like it probably is,” Austin said, standing close. “Normal people don’t talk like that. Or use swords.”

“Dang it.” I clicked my teeth shut and curled my lips together. I didn’t need any more words slipping out.

“Go ahead and take her.” Niamh waved me away. “I need to grab a…guy for…something.”

“She is my hero,” I said, pointing toward the bathroom. “Just need to…”

Austin released me, but from the way he held his body—ready to lunge into action at any moment—he was clearly wondering if I’d pitch forward onto my face.

“I’m good, I’m good.” I held up my hands then grabbed my purse. “I’m a forty-year-old woman. I know how to handle a buzz.”

“You’re a forty-year-old woman drinking with Niamh. You’re a long way past buzzed.” Austin laughed, his smile infectious. It really brought out the best in his already perfect features. “You need to learn a better exit plan.”

“Don’t I know it,” I said, bouncing off a wall, stumbling down the stairs, and finally finding my way into the ladies’ room. “Why would Mr. Tom warn me about the sandwiches, but not the alcohol? That seems a grave oversight on his part.”

A younger woman gave me a dirty look as I emerged from the stall. I wasn’t sure why but I also did not care.

“Livin’ the dream. Haters gonna hate,” I said as she slipped out of the way. “Ballas gonna…” I shrugged, turning on the tap. “Spend money or somethin’, I don’t know.”

She huffed and left the bathroom. In the silence of her wake, I paused and the world floated around me in an alcoholic haze. I had my purse but not my sweater. Given I was mostly numb from the vat of wine I’d consumed, I was pretty sure it would take a blizzard for me to feel the cold. I could just slip out the back exit near the second pool table, away from prying eyes.

“Wait…here it is.” I found my sweater around my waist. “Miracle.”

Sneaky as I could be, I slipped out of the bathroom, only I wasn’t fast enough to avoid catching my toe between the swinging door and the frame. I struggled my way out, pausing just out of sight of the bar. Across the way, on the other side of the second pool table, gaped the exit.

I’d walked through some bad neighborhoods in my day, protected by nothing but a Swiss Army Knife, resting bitch face, and a no-nonsense attitude. No one ever bothered me.

Maybe it was because I looked homeless. Whatever the case, this was a tiny, dead town, even with Broken Nose Harry. I didn’t need to embarrass myself by engaging in small talk with a very attractive sober man. I’d likely do or say something stupid, and it would result in never being able to show my face in this bar again. Best not to chance it.





Eight





“What’s she doing?” Austin asked Niamh, hearing every word Jessie was muttering to herself beyond the wall, just out of sight. She clearly didn’t know she wasn’t out of hearing range for someone like him.

“Sounds like she’s trying to sneak out.” Niamh rattled her ice cubes around her glass. “Any chance for another—”

“No,” he said, seeing an elbow poke out and then get pulled back in. It was like she was playing a game of drunk hokey-pokey, a thought that almost tugged another smile out of him. “Has she explored the house yet?”

“Now, that information might cost another—”

“No,” he told Niamh again.

She sighed. “She just got there today, like I said, and she only remembers the broad strokes from when she was last there. She’s startin’ from scratch.”