Page 93 of The Bartender Special

He had a way about him that annoyed. A wet blanket wrapped in a wet blanket as a person.

Jack pulled his customer service smile out and grit his teeth on the inside.

He couldn’t be an ass to Derrick Kennerly, but he could respond in his best impression of Carol Robertson. He dug deep and pulled a story Dixon had told him a few months ago out.

Twas gossip.

Which made him an immediate hypocrite.

Twasn’t going to stop him.

“It’s kind of like how I don't get why these guys send dick pics out like that’s all they need to do to get laid and then somehow blame the ladies when they don’t.” Jack shrugged. “But, I guess everyone has their reasons for how they act online. Some people are idiots and think their naked schlongs can make them less boring. I’d take a blog post over that any day, if you ask me.”

Dewey had been wide-eyed already. His quick look to Dewey confirmed that the gossip he’d overheard had, in fact, been true.

Dick Pic Derrick was nowhere near amused.

He tried to play it off with a nod of agreement and a quick order of a Pilsner.

“Why don’t we enjoy the patio tonight?” he asked once served.

The night air was as sticky and hot as a fresh glazed donut, but Dewey was an accommodating guy. He followed Derrick through the bar to the side door. Not before catching Jack's attention and grinning wide.

Santana emerged from the kitchen with her phone in one hand and a fry in the other.

“I didn't know those two were friends,” she said with a glance. “Last I heard Derrick’s only friend was his right hand.”

Normally, Jack would have sniggered at that one.

Now he just felt annoyed.

“Why does everyone in Arbor Bay think they should know everyone's business?” Jack griped back. “Like, I get gossip, but who cares who's friends with who? They do know TV exists, right? I heard there’s a lot of good stuff on there now.”

Santana wasn’t one to acknowledge the annoyances of men. She skirted by the misplaced grumpiness and laughed.

“We live in Arbor Bay—its own little anthill in the middle of a parking lot. There’re very few unknowns we get to enjoy, so we eat it up when there’s a question mark. Speaking of—” She stuck the fry in her mouth and handed him her phone. “You hung out with the Robertson twins, Ruby, Benny, and your ex. Today. On a boat. Chest out and wet.”

The picture on the screen was one of the several group shots that had been taken at Carol’s insistence. Marcus and Felicity were holding hands, Ruby was at Carol’s side trying their best to look like teacups, and Benny—with his definitely sunburned legs—was leaning against Jack’s side. His smile was small, awkward. Cute.

Jack caught himself smiling at the image.

It didn’t last long.

Jack found himself in the picture.

He didn’t remember why—or even that he had—but there was no way around it.

Picture Jack was smiling too.

But not at Benny.

Santana sighed.

“And I'm guessing by the look on your face right now that you didn't mean to stare lovingly at your ex while when this picture was taken, huh?”

He hadn’t.

But damn if there wasn’t proof that he had.