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I knew if Charlie had one more drink, he would finally let loose. With each drink he’s had, his walls have started to break down. I’m not trying to make him drunk out of his mind, I just want him to have a fun time. He’s always worried about Wren and me but never focuses on himself. He’s his own worst critic, and it needs to stop.
As we approached the bar, a small line formed outside, waiting to get in. I glanced up at the sign—Palm Paradise. My best guess is that this is a beach-themed bar.
Within a few minutes, the line moved and we made our way to the front.
“IDs, please?” The bouncer had his hand out expectantly.
We handed them over before a big black X was drawn on both of our right hands. “Enjoy!”
The door opened and my suspicions were correct. This is a beach-themed bar. As I took the place in, all I could see was the Riviera—a bar back in Seattle with the same beach vibe. Why there’s a beach vibe smack dab in the middle of Seattle is beyond me. The Riviera was where I met my ex. The same ex Charlie accidentally brought right to me last summer when we were at a bonfire. That encounter went horribly, and Charlie still apologizes almost bi-weekly for it.
As we made our way to the bar to order a drink, my heels stuck with every step I took. The floor was covered in spilled alcohol. The lights were low, but I could still see the light wood of the bar and floors. Being on the coast and having a coastal-themed bar? Much more fitting.
We waited in line and Charlie bopped his head to the music, which was louder than the last bar.
The bartender finished helping the guy in front of us and we stepped up to the bar. The was clad in the ugliest Hawaiian print shirt I had ever seen.
“What can I get you, beautiful?” he flirted. No one has paid a lick of attention to me in so long that I wasn’t sure how to react.
With that question, Charlie wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me into him.
“Can I please have a vodka and club soda?”
“What?” The bartender yelled over the music with a devious smirk.
I raised my voice, “A vodka and club soda.”
He leaned in so close our faces were inches apart. I gulped, not liking the closeness. I like my bubble of space; only Charlie, Wren, and Marsh can be within that bubble.
Charlie sensed my body tense up. Despite being moderately soft-spoken, he could raise his voice if he needed to. “She said she wanted a vodka and club soda.”
The bartender’s smirk faded and he made me a drink. I followed Charlie’s gaze as he watched the guy make my drink, ensuring nothing else was added. Protective Charlie was out and about.
He slid the drink over to me. “And for you, buddy?”
“A bourbon and Coke.” Charlie paused, “And I am not your fuckin’ buddy, that’s for damn sure.”
A moment later, the bartender brought back Charlie’s drink as well.
The bartender’s demeanor had changed entirely, and he was now professional. “Would you like to keep the tab open or close it?”
Charlie looked at me for silent confirmation. I nodded.
“We’ll leave it open.”
“I’ll just take your card, swipe it, and hand it right back to you.”
Charlie handed over his debit card and it was returned a moment later.
“Enjoy, Mr. and Mrs. Hannigan,” the bartender ushered us off.
The butterflies in my stomach danced about. That was the first time anyone had called me Mrs. Hannigan. Growing up, I didn’t have positive relationships on which to base my opinions. My family was riddled with divorce, abandonment, and unfaithfulness—I never knew what a healthy relationship or marriage looked like. Until I met Charlie, I had never even considered getting married.
Charlie didn’t acknowledge what the bartender said. I wondered if he had heard what he said.
“Do you want to go over there?” He motioned towards the edge of the dancefloor, where there was a small space.
I nodded. The songs they were playing were more modern than the last place, but I was having the best time people-watching. Charlie says I’m nosey, but I like to think I’m very observant. If you need to know what’s happening around our small town of Wippowa, I’m your girl.
