Page 2 of The Bartender Special

“I do think it kind of stinks that you know all my secrets but, for whatever reason, refuse to tell me who this guy is. I mean, I didn't even know you thought you had a soul mate until I read the blog like everyone else.”

Benny groaned. Again.

He would never forget writing the one post where he wondered if Guy was his soul mate, but he sure was hoping everyone else would forget reading it.

“All I'm saying is that if someone offered me an exciting chance like this to change my life, I'd at least think about it,” Ethan added.

“But I like my life.”

Ethan looked down his nose at Benny. He kept some thoughts behind his lips, of that Benny was sure, before he responded.

“Wouldn't it be nice to give yourself more options, though? At least get yourself some more money to have more options. I mean, honestly, you work how many jobs for a small apartment hours away from me, your best friend? You could always take the money from the book deal and set up shop here.”

Benny shook his head, putting a hand up into the air to emphasis the full stop of what he’d said.

“You leave my jobs out of this,” he said. Sure, Ethan wasn't wrong. Benny did bounce between several jobs within the event planning world in Nashville. He'd been a florist's assistant the longest, but worked part-time for a catering company and also picked up the odd job for several venues when the occasion arose. It wasn't a traditional career by any means, but Benny loved being a part of it all. “I've been working for years to build up the resources and connections to start my own event-planning business in Nashville. Not to mention Mrs. Baker offered me co-owner status at the florist shop if I could buy in. If I take this deal, that’s where the money is going. So come off trying to make me come back and commiserate with me in my embarrassment instead—like a true best friend.”

He heard Ethan sigh.

A small silence filled the classroom. Both men were in uncharted territory. The silence slowly gave way to the outside world of Arbor Bay, Alabama. It didn't matter how long Benny was away from the small town, its sounds never really changed. A loop of the same old, same old. Sometimes it was sleepy. Sometimes it was loud. All times it was familiar. Even now he felt like he'd never been anywhere else, despite having an entirely different zip code. Construction on the academy's float for the festival kickoff in two weeks already had various poundings and yelling coming from volunteers and staff who'd been roped in. A car horn blared somewhere down the block. Sprinklers were chh-chh-ing across the street.

The same street that, if followed without taking any turns, eventually led to the edge of town. And right to the Robertson estate.

Where it all had started.

Where Benny had fallen in love and then been foolish enough to talk about it on the internet.

What were you thinking?

Finally, Ethan spoke. His earlier concern had transformed into a paternal voice that zipped urgency down Benny's spine.

“Benny De Carlo, you get off of my floor right now. This self-pitying crap is no longer endearing. Get up now.” Benny uncovered his eyes to see the shock of red hair topping over the face only now starting to scold. Which meant it truly was time to wrap it up.

Begrudgingly, Benny let Ethan help him up. His tone only marginally softened again when they had both straightened. Ethan patted Benny's shoulder.

“You've been given an opportunity some can only dream about. Sure, you didn't ask for it, and it comes at a cost to your pride, but think of the upside. You've spent years writing these feelings in secret, and now you might be able to make a living at doing it full-time, or at worst, use it to help you fund your future business. All you have to do is finally be the one who says something and then you can move on. So stop spiraling and start figuring out what to do next. Capiche?”

Benny decided to save his sighs, lest he run out before dinner.

“Capiche.”

But then his phone started ringing.

If it could sigh, it probably would have. It hadn't gotten this much action in years.

The caller ID read Unknown.

Since the blog had gone viral a week ago, Benny had been getting all kinds of calls, texts, messages, and emails. Strangers, friends, his dentist's cousin's sister. Everyone wanted to talk, and Benny thought the bottom of the bay wouldn’t be a bad resting place for his electronics.

“I take back my capiche, Ethan,” he hurried. “I take back my capiche!”

Ethan showed no true sympathy. He laughed instead as he pushed him out the door.

“Hoping your problems will go away doesn't actually make them go away,” he said.

“And meeting them head on doesn’t either,” Benny tried. “It just puts you in your problem’s face!”

Ethan continued laughing. “Then you can either kiss it or slap it. Either way, you have to confront it.”