Speakeasy (True North #5)(17)

“Fuck that advice,” Smitty argues immediately. “May Shipley is hot. Also, it would piss her brother off. Alec still needs to get even with Griffin for fucking you.”

Oh, Jesus.

3…2…1…

Zara erupts. “Oh my God, you are a freaking Neanderthal.” She grabs another lemon and slaps it onto the cutting board. “Let’s have none of your caveman bullshit tonight on my shift.”

“Your shift?” Smitty says, his voice getting high. “Who works here five nights a week?”

“It’s both your shifts,” I say, feeling like a kindergarten teacher. “Back into your corners.”

I’d forgotten that Zara hates Smitty. She calls him “that cretin you hired.” If Smitty gets defensive tonight and acts like dick, she’ll never sub for me again.

I wait until Smitty goes into the supply room for a case of beer and then clear my throat. “Smitty gets a little cranky when you talk down to him.”

“You want me to pretend to look up to him?” She snorts.

“Just don’t pull rank. Even though we both know you’re the best bartender Vermont ever had, he doesn’t want to hear it. He’s fragile.”

She looks up at me with a smirk. “Well played.”

“Thank you. If you have any issues, text me.”

“There won’t be any need,” she says, and I don’t doubt it. My sister isn’t easily rattled. “Just focus on May, okay? Ask her for a game plan. A woman always has one.” Zara grabs the last lemon and braces it on the cutting board.

“Game plan?”

“If you’re supposed to be her date, there’s probably an image she’s trying to portray. Does she want you to be you, or does she want you to pretend to blend in with the lawyers, Cousin Vinnie?”

“Hey now. I’m cuter than Joe Pesci.”

She snickers. “Just be a good boy. Don’t try to get in May’s pants.”

“I won’t!” Jesus. My rep isn’t that bad.

Or maybe it is. But I don’t get to argue the point, because the front door opens up to reveal May. And then it’s an effort not to swallow my tongue. She’s wearing a sparkly top cut into a deep V in front, exposing a wedge of cleavage. Then there’s her short skirt and black over-the-knee boots. May is a tall girl, so there’s a few inches of creamy skin above the boots and below the skirt. It makes her legs look super long. Long enough to wrap around me while we’re—

Fucking.

Yikes. Nope.

I yank my eyes back up to her face and smile. “Hot damn, lady. That’ll drive your ex wild.”

May stops in front of me and raises her palms to cover her cleavage. “Do you think it’s too much?”

“He does not think it’s too much.” Zara snickers beside me.

“You shut up,” I say out of habit.

“Hi, Z,” May says. “You’re tending bar tonight?”

“Sure am! It’s nice to be out where grownups are. Usually I’m at home with the kidlet right now.” She wipes her hands on her apron. “Run along, children. Have fun making the lady lawyers jealous.”

“Oh, we will!” I assure her. I grab my jacket off a hook and come around to greet May properly—with a chaste hug. “Let’s do this. Can we take my truck?”

“Sure,” May says, buttoning her coat. Pity. I’d been enjoying the view. “You’re such a good sport for going to this thing with me.”

“It’s not entirely selfless,” I say, walking her outside and opening the truck’s door for her. “You mentioned cheap wine and cubed cheese with crackers. That’s my weakness.”

“I’ll bet.” She snorts.

She’s onto me. I don’t give a fuck about this party. But my new weakness is May dressed in that short skirt. I asked to drive so that I wouldn’t stare at her the whole way there.

As I climb into the driver’s seat I can smell her perfume. And I notice she’s done something with her makeup that makes her eyes look enormous.

“How’s it going at home?” I ask as I reverse out of my spot. Eyes on the road, pal.

“Oh, fine, I guess. Except I’m back to square one, you know? Living in the parents’ house. Paying off my law school loans and watching sci-fi movies with my brothers. This was my life when I was sixteen.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I hang out in the same bar every night, and I’m thirty-two.”

“You get paid to do that.”

“It helps.” I drive only a hundred yards or so and then turn off the road. “This will only take a second. My neighbor asked me to feed his cat and lock up for him.”

“Need any help?” May asks, smiling at me.

Gawd, that smile. It’s just the right shape for kissing. But I won’t let it get to me. “You just sit there and look ravishing. Back in a jif.” I hop out of the truck and jog up to Hamish’s big double doors. I open one, and it lets out a loud creak. I love old buildings, and this one is pretty neat. The cavernous space is lit by antique soda lamps hanging from the ceiling. There are giant leaded glass windows and rough-hewn floorboards.

The place has serious atmosphere. And some day I’m going to own it. Hamish and I have a gentleman’s agreement that when he’s good and ready, I’m buying the property from him. Then I’ll own this whole stretch of riverbank, and nobody can wreck it and put in a strip mall or a self-storage place or some other eyesore.