Billionaire Bartender: A Second Chance Romance (The Buckeye Series) (2 page)

“I bet you are.” Mitch flicked the tulle of her tutu. “Tell me. What brings a sexy bumblebee like yourself into the Buckeye on the arm of a scoundrel like Bill?”

Bill chuckled, “You’re in good hands. Be right back.” He stepped off in the direction of a table of women. Several of them she recognized as the ones they passed outside in the parking lot.

“I’m looking for a little fun,” she answered Mitch’s question and added a little tease to test the waters. It’d been several years since she flirted. She didn’t want to appear rusty if and when her “perfect” bartender walked in. “Can you help me, Mitch?”

“Consider it done.” He patted the barstool next to him to indicate she should sit down. “Are you ready to sting? I see fire in those eyes.”

“Didn’t think you’d noticed my eyes yet.” She tapped Mitch on the tip of his nose and hopped up on the seat next to him.

“Fair enough.”

“So, where’s your costume?” she asked, tilting her head to him.

He twisted sideways on his seat, a move which slid his knees up against her thighs. “Right here,” he said, his arms outstretched wide.

“You’re just wearing a gray golf shirt.”

“Ahh,” he pressed his finger to his temple. “You’re wrong. It’s a silver golf shirt.”

Angela, the young, female bartender stepped in and explained. “He’s a silver fox, Sean Connery, George Clooney. Has nothing to with golf.”

“In that case. I love it.” Liz placed an elbow on the bar and rested her chin on her fist. This squeezed in her side boob, creating more cleavage to spill out for the blue eyed, “silver fox” to stare at.

Mitch opened his mouth, expelling an inaudible sound. His glance fixed on her breasts tempting him too close.

“So, what’ll you have?” Angela dropped a napkin and closed Mitch’s mouth in one smooth movement.

“Do you have any specials for tonight?” Liz asked, keeping her elbow on the counter and twisting just her head to speak.

“Beer specials? We have the usual on tap and bottled.”

“I was thinking more like a mixed drink.”

“Make her an Eye Opener,” Bill said, returning and sitting down to her left.

“Good idea.” Angela knocked her knuckles on the counter in front of Bill, then grabbed a shaker and went to work mixing the ingredients for the drink.

“I’ve never heard of an Eye Opener. What’s in it?”

“You’ll like it,” Angela answered. “A classic Buckeye drink, a little rum, a little sugar.” She cracked a raw egg and separated the yolk from the white. “A little extra.”

“I don’t know about this.”

But it was too late to back out. Angela sat the drink down on a napkin. It was creamy white at the top and darkened into a light orange at the bottom. “Your drink.”

“How much?” She reached for her purse still hooked on her shoulder.

“On the house. It’s a welcome to the Buckeye drink.” She winked and placed a bottle of beer in front of Bill.

“Okay here goes.” Her first sip was from the straw. A mistake, she learned too late. The rum that had settled in the bottom hit her fast and strong. “Whoa.”

“Drink it from the rim.” Angela snatched the straw away and tossed it on the floor behind her. “You’ll get more sugar and less alcohol this way.”

“Thanks.” Liz took a second swallow as instructed. “Well, it’s better.” She turned back to Mitch. “So, Mr. Fox, what do you do?”

His eyes widened at her sudden question. He took a gulp of his beer, then rubbed his gray five o’clock shadow, considering his answer. “I’m . . . in . . . publications.”

That’s pretty vague. Flirting is harder than I remember. I’ll try again.
“I’m Executive in charge of Research and Development for Symsco Corporation. It’s an evil day job, but it’s all I got. Now you.” She waved a single hand in Mitch’s direction.

“He writes erotica,” Bill said, answering for him.

“I do not,” Mitch protested.

“Yes, you do,” Angela agreed.

“You don’t have to tell her that.” The silver senior was turning red. “I like to call my stories quick romance connections.”

“It’s okay. I read a little erotica.” She placed a teasing hand on his knee. “Maybe I’ve read some of yours. Tell me your pen name.” Mitch went silent again. She gave him a little squeeze. He shook his head and took another drink of his beer.

Angela, popped open a second bottle and handed it to Bill without him having to order it. He took it and turned on his barstool, excusing himself to return to flirting with the table of young single women.

“So how long have you known Bill and why haven’t you been in yet?” Angela asked.

“Since high school. I’ve been married.” Liz flashed the wedding band that she hadn’t got around to cutting off her finger. “I should take this off. We’re getting a divorce.”

“Those are some rocks.” Angela examined the eternity band of diamonds closer. “Was he a billionaire or something?”

“No, just an asshole.”

“For giving you this?”

“He was married to his job. This isn’t even my original wedding band.” She twisted the ring around her finger. “He bought this for me when he made partner. Said the other one was too small for a wife of his standing.”

“If you’re divorcing, why are you still wearing it?” Angela asked, as she poured two beers from the tap for a table order.

“It’s stuck. Can’t get it off without cutting through a diamond.”

“If you really want a change, you’ll destroy a little rock to get make it happen,” Mitch said with a gentle pat on her arm.

Such a simple thought had never occurred to Liz before. She wasn’t usually a procrastinator and she really didn’t want to hold onto any part of her marriage. “You’re right. I’ll call a jeweler.”

“Hell, I got cutters at the house. We can take care of this tonight.”

“Not necessary Mitch,” Angela said.

He harrumphed and folded his arms across his chest.

Liz took another drink, this time with more rum mixed in the mouthful. “So Angela, Bill said you were an adventurer?”

“Only in costume.” She spun around, showing off in her khaki shorts and white tank top. She flicked a small whip attached to her belt loop. “I’m really just a quiet girl taking classes at the college during the day and tending bar here at night.”

“She’s one good kid.” Mitch patted her hand.

Their tender moment was interrupted by Bill plopping back down on his barstool while furiously typing on his phone.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing, I just need to finish this.” He kept his eyes on the small screen. He was adding a photo of the women in a sexy devil costume to his contact list.

“Aunt Sheila?” Liz questioned when she saw the name he’d entered for her. “Did you use that boyfriend line on her?”

“Yeah and it worked.”

“Bill what about Dina?” She reminded him of his long time girlfriend. She was tall, outspoken and prone to jealousy. Not a woman Liz ever cared to see crossed.

“Why do you think I’m typing so fast? She’s outside looking for a space.”

“How many aunts have you accumulated?” Liz grabbed for his phone, but he was fast and slipped it in his back pants pocket. This past summer, Dina had caught him sexting with a woman and nearly cut his dick off. Liz stepped in and mass texted all the women on his contact list that he was in a committed relationship with Dina. It slowed down his flirtations, but apparently hadn’t stopped it.

“Shh, I’ve learned my lesson. Trust me and don’t say anything.”

“Uh huh. Why don’t I believe you?”

Chapter Three

The back door to the bar swung open, flooding the dark corners with light for a brief moment. “Dina!” the crowd exclaimed, announcing her arrival, just as they did when Liz and Bill entered.

In high school, Dina was tan, blonde and beautiful. Now her tanned features were riddled with wrinkles and her blonde hair had lost it’s luster. Bill jumped up to meet her and the two locked themselves in an embrace of ass grabbing and tongue kissing action.

“You drinking tonight?” Angela asked.

Dina turned out of the lip lock. “One beer. I have to go home to the kid.”

“Look who’s here,” Bill said, pointing to Liz.

“Liz? I thought you’d never set foot in this place.”

“Here I am.” She shrugged, causing the balls on her antennae headband to dance.

“Well, hells bells. Is that an Eye Opener?” Dina snatched up the drink and gulped a mouthful. “This is nasty shit. I haven’t had one of these in years. You be careful, this’ll whoop your ass later tonight.” She handed it back with only a small amount of liquid left in the bottom.

“I’m done.” Liz pushed the drink across the counter to Angela.

“So have you met everyone?”

“I’ve met, Mitch.” She leaned backward on her barstool into him. He caught her by the waist. Liz bent her head back and kissed the bottom of his chin before sitting up.

“Only Mitch?” Dina protested, “Bill, go introduce her around.”

“She’s a big girl. Let her do it herself.”

“Lazy ass. Come on.” Dina snatched her drink off the bar and pulled Liz out of her seat. “Who should we see first?” she pondered, blowing across the top of her beer bottle.

The trio from the pool table, who’d been watching Liz since she entered, half waved to Dina.

“There’s where we’re going.” She stepped faster in the direction of the eager trio of desperate guys. “Hey, have you met Liz?”

“Buzzzzzz,” a slim man said, wiggling his finger around.

“What are you doing?” Dina asked.

“She’s a bumblebee.” He retracted his wiggling digit and offered his hand straight out. “Hi, I’m Dale.”

“Hi, Dale. I know Halloween wasn’t the smartest evening to pick to come here for the first time,” Liz laughed.

“Nonsense,” he said with a flick of his wrist. “Costumes say a lot about people.”

“Okay. Who are you dressed as?”

Dale was wearing a tan jumpsuit with a patch on the front pocket. Over his shoulder was a oversized water gun, spray painted black, and he sported a matching utility belt around his waist.

“Can’t you tell? I’m a comedic parody of myself.” He pointed to the patch on his jumpsuit, which had a ghost embroidered on it. “It’s funny, right?”

“Do you like the movie Ghostbusters or something?”

“I do, but I’m more making a statement. In stepping out in this costume, I’m mirroring the effects of social personification and incorrect perceptions of those in the spectral analysis and classification field of expertise.” Dale spoke fast and spit his explanation out without taking a breath.

Even though she’d heard all of his big words, Liz wasn’t sure she understood his message. Hoping for clarification, she turned a puzzled look to the other two men nearby.

“Dale here is a paranormal investigator,” Jim, a husky man in a red Star Trek shirt said. He offered his hand. When Liz took it, he brought it to his lips and kissed it. “I’m Jim.”

“Listen sugar, these guys’ll take care of you. I gotta go,” Dina said in her native Texan accent. She raced over to Bill who was chatting up a woman in a pirate costume.

“So, Jim are you making a statement or are you really a Star Trek Captain?”

“I’m not a captain.” He pinched his shirt near the silver emblem on his chest. “I’m a red shirt.” He stopped for a reaction, but only received a blank stare from Liz. So he continued. “Red shirts die in every episode. They can’t be captain. But, hey, call me whatever you want.”

“Sorry. I didn’t realize. Guess I’m not very cool.”

“You’re too cool to understand these costumes. I’m Lee,” the third man, who was also husky, but had ginger hair and a full beard said.

He wiped his hand on his outfit before offering it to Liz. “I’m just what you’re thinking. A Larper,” he said, confidently nodding his head.

From his costume, a renaissance looking garb with a hooded cape, Liz figured it had something to do with a medieval times, so she smiled and acted like she knew what he was referring to.

After introductions were over, the three huddled around, staring like they’d never spoken to a woman before. There was a weird silence in the loud bar. Liz figured this was the point where most women excused themselves to the bathroom, never to return, but she was here to meet people, so she asked a question. “Do you guys come here often?”

“Pretty much.”

“All the time.”

“Yup.”
 

Those were their answers. Which cemented her theory of women’s reactions to them and tempted her to run to the bathroom herself. She didn’t. Instead she tried to think of a question along the lines of their hobbies that might interest them. Anything. But she struggled too long and found herself awkwardly shaking her head.

“Do you. . .” She started and at the same time Dale said, “So you are?” The group laughed together. “Go ahead, what were you saying?” Liz said to Dale.

“I just wondered. You came in with Bill, but you know Dina too. How is that possible?”

“I went to high school with both of them.”

“Ah, makes sense,” Dale said, with a nod. Which the other two mirrored, Liz joined in, starting the awkward nodding cycle again.

“I live across the street from Bill,” Liz added, determined not to fail at a conversation with these guys. Her next sentence was coming to her, slowly, but she was in luck. A coincidental event distracted the bar, saving her from the pain of more silence.

The front door opened, flooding in light and with it a man in a zombie costume.

“Oscar!” the trio and the other patrons of the bar exclaimed.

Oscar?
Liz echoed.
My bartender? He’s here?
She turned her attention, as if in slow motion toward the man who had caused such a stir in her life. She strained to catch a glimpse of his features, but the door had shut and the bar was too dark.

Chapter Four

The announcement of his arrival unfazed him. He expertly dodged furniture, posed for a selfie with Dina, straightened one or two out-of-place chairs, and made his way up to the main bar. He patted Andy on the back and ruffled Mitch’s hair out of place. Then he lifted the hinged divider to join Angela behind the counter.

His actions, normal apparently to all the regular patrons, but not to Liz. Each step he took awed her. She intently watched every move of this bartender.
So this is Oscar.
This man who’d invaded her dreams. This real incarnation of her fantasies. He was a few feet away. She could reach out and grab him.
Bill was right. He showed up. But why? It’s his day off.