Page 52 of Player For Hire
“Going!”
“When did you get back in town?”
“This morning. I got a shitty email from my landlord that cut my trip short.” He hefted the case onto the edge of the bar.
Susie, the blond waitress, flashed Duncan a wide smile. “I see you found your boyfriend.”
“I did, even though he didn’t notice me standing at the end of the bar when I came in. I fear our love is waning. Won’t you take up the mantel, fair Susie?”
“We tried that. You conveniently lost my number, remember?”
“Ah, it was Mercury in Retrograde, I swear it. I transposed the numbers.”
Susie laughed and smacked his ass with her serving tray. “You’re full of crap, Duncan.” She refilled her tray full of beers that Danny had pulled and took off into the crowd of Saturday patrons. There was definitely an extra bounce in her step for my idiot best friend.
I finished hooking up the keg and shoved Duncan out from behind the bar. “Finish your story, Dunc. What happened with your landlord?”
“Right.” He planted himself on a stool and I poured him his preferred microbrew. “Thanks, man.”
I refilled the ice in the chest at the end of the bar and shoved a few of the Heinekens in to chill down. “Spill it.”
“He’s selling the building. We have to be out at the end of the month.”
I whistled. “Shit. That’s not much time.”
“No. I looked at the rental agreement, and of course, the fucker has a loophole in it so I can’t fight it.”
“You hate that craphole place anyway.”
“I know, but now I have to find a new one.”
“You’re actually making some green these days. You can afford something better.”
“I can afford it, but I don’t have time to look all over the damn city for a place.”
I wiped down the bar and refreshed the garnish station. “I can put some feelers out.”
“Anything available in that swanky place you live?”
“I’ll check with Aunt Deb, but I think there’s a waiting list again.” I grabbed my water bottle and took a long swig. It was a warm one tonight, thanks to all the bodies.
I nodded to the trio of guys who came up to the bar. “What can I get you?”
“Three Guinnesses, please.”
“You got it.” Bah. My least favorite. I took down the Guinness glasses and started the slow pour. I glanced back at Duncan. “At least you have a few weeks.”
“Yeah, too bad I’ll be in Seattle for two of them.”
Duncan was a sportswriter and podcaster, and this was his busy time of the year with hockey playoffs. He dabbled in a few other sports, but hockey was his favorite and his podcast had just gotten some national attention, which meant he was even busier than usual.
The front door opened, and a welcome blast of cool April evening air came through. I glanced over and my gut tightened at the redhead who sauntered in. But she wasn’t my redhead. Mine was more golden with red tones. “I’ll hit up a few people and see if we can find you something.”
“Thanks, man.” Duncan sipped his beer. “Now tell me what has you so distracted.”
“Who says I’m distracted?”
“The fact that your eyes have darted to the door no less than three times since I sat down. I was waving at you like a lunatic and you didn’t even see me when I came in.”