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“Dill.” I shoot him my best smile. “How are you this evening?”
“Better for seeing you, darlin’. Can I have another?” He waves his empty glass in front of me.
“Sure thing.” I take the glass. “What are you having tonight? Phil’s? Baxters?”
“Baxters, darlin’.”
I place the glass under the tap and bring the handle down until his glass is full. “On your tab?” I question before handing it back.
Old Dill nods and I place it on the bar in front of him. I add the drink to his tab and turn to serve a young couple.
I hand them two glasses of wine, take the guy’s bill, and turn to the till. I hear him send the girl to the table, and when I hand him his change, he leans across the bar.
“Excuse me. I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”
“If I can,” I respond.
“I, er,” he stutters. “I’m planning on proposing to my girlfriend tonight.”
“Congratulations.” Ugh, please don’t ask me to bring the ring in a champagne glass or something.
“Do you serve champagne?”
Fuck me. “We do.”
“Could you bring a bottle of your finest over in around half an hour, please? If you add it to a tab, I’ll pay before I leave.”
I force a sweet smile. “Of course. I’d love to!”
“Thank you.” He returns my smile gratefully and takes his change from my hand, returning to his girlfriend.
Old Dill chuckles. “Speaking of proposing. Still no ring on that finger?”
Here we go. I fill his glass again and put it in front of him. I swipe my card down the till and bring up his tab. “Nope, no ring.”
One of the barstools scrapes at the other end of the bar and I half-glance in that direction. “I’ll be with you in a moment,” I call before turning back to Old Dill. “Gonna pay this tab any time soon? The boss will kick my ass if it isn’t paid by the end of the week.”
“I’ll pay Saturday, darlin’. I promise. Friday is payday.”
“So pay on Friday.”
He laughs, my snarky tone skimming right over his head. “Pretty girl like you should have a ring on that finger.”
“Keep it up and I’ll think you’re offering, Dill.”
He laughs again and hands me a fifty. “Here. Take that off the bill.”
I give him a sickly sweet smile. “Payday on Friday my ass. And I told you before, I’m single and I’m staying that way.”
I take fifty off his tab and put the bill in the drawer of the cash register. Turning, I ask, “Sorry it took so long. What can I get you?”
“I’ll have a Blow Job, please.”
Every word is clipped and British, and I know before I look up that it’s Tyler who’s asking. The request causes goose pimples to coat my arms, and I meet his eyes. I lean against the bar and fold my arms across my chest.
“I bet you will,” I reply. “Unfortunately, we don’t serve cocktails at this bar. You’ll have to go upstairs for that.”
His rose-colored lips twitch. “Then I’ll have whatever you’ve got.”
