As soon as her attention is on me, everything else fades away.The low indie rock music of the bar, the conversation, even the friends I came with.Gone.All I can see is her, this radiant beam of sexy happiness that is waving and coming our way.
“Look who wandered in,” she says with an ear-to-ear grin.
“We’re here to make sure you studied your drink recipes,” I say.
She leans against the bar, crossing her arms as she sizes us all up.“Oh, I studied.And I’mready.What can I get you?”
Branson and Derek order first.When it comes to me, Casey holds up a hand.
“I already know.Arnold Palmer.”
I fight the dopey grin threatening to overtake my face.“Not tonight.I’d like to drink whatever IPA you think matches my skin tone best.”
She sends me a private smile and winks before leaving us to prep the drinks.I can barely pry my eyes off her as Derek slaps my arm.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It’s just a joke,” I say.
“Yeah, aninsidejoke,” Derek laments.“We ordering food or what?”
“Of course.Let’s get a spread.”We look at the small menus gathered in an upright holder nearby, making our selection.We debate between hot or garlic parm wings, decide to do both, as well as different burgers for each of us.When Casey comes back with our drinks, a smile quirking at her lips, I realize I amstarving.
But not for food.
For Casey.
“Here we go.Drinks on day one of the job.Hope you don’t spit them out,” she cracks.I make a display of testing my beer and nodding approvingly.
“I think this will do.You liking the job so far?”
“Yeah, as far as day ones go.”She slings a white bar towel over her shoulder and looks around at the place.“It’s lovely in here.My coworkers are nice.I think I’ll like it.”
“Good.”I lift my bottle in a toast, and she makes a fist to bump it against the beer.
“What’s next?You boys hungry?”She nods toward Branson who is still deciding between the Texas burger and the Ohio burger.We place our orders, and she commits them to memory before whooshing away and getting lost in the activity at the far end of the bar.
From there it’s a pleasant blur—heated conversation about some recent changes to the Bayshore waterfront, followed by endless sports talk.Brews on the Bay has good food, but it’s even better when it’s being delivered by a hot brunette like Casey.We wolf down our food, order another round, and finally it’s time to cash out.
When Casey brings back the credit card slips from our payments, she says, “I’m going to clock out soon.They had me on a mid-shift for my first day.”
“You need a ride home?”I eye the receipt, sign my name, and then pull a $100 bill out of my wallet to slide her way.“That’s for you.”
Her eyes get huge.“That’s, like, double your bill.”
“So?”
Her throat bobs, and she looks up at me.“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.Put it toward rent in Chicago.”
“Thanks, Griff.”She sends me another one of those pretty smiles that threatens to undo me and collects all our slips.“And to answer your question, no, I drove.But I appreciate the offer.”
Branson and Derek say their goodbyes to Casey and we filter out into the parking lot.They’re making plans to head downtown next, but I wave them off, telling them I’ll see them another time.I’m waiting for Casey, because I can’t help myself.I shove my hands into my pockets, starting a slow walk toward her car.Part of me knows I shouldn’t be hanging around like this, because there’s so much more behind it than simple friendship.But I want to see her, talk to her, be with her.
We don’t have much time left this summer, and I want to enjoy Casey Hart until I lose her to Chicago again.
A door creaks open nearby and then a few moments later I hear footsteps crunching on the gravel.
