Previously on *gestures* this thing:
She glanced up at the poor guy she’d nearly knocked over, and promptly felt herself blush a little. … He definitely had that whole hot bartender thing going on and she was too tired to do much of anything besides blush. Maybe he didn’t notice.
“You… okay?” he asked. He totally noticed.
He cocked his head to the side and looked at her. She laughed nervously and tried to smile and pull her shit together. Hot guy, shmot guy. Nothing to see here, folks.
“Yeah! I’m fine,” she said. “Sorry, long, weird day.”
“Weird?”
“Um, yeah, my sister dragged me to a… a thing. It was kinda weird. It was this like, dating group thing. She didn’t want to go alone. And now I’m here with her and some guy she met. He’s cool, but it’s…” She trailed off, realizing she was rambling to a stranger.
“…Weird?” He finished for her, helpfully. He looked more amused than annoyed, so that was something at least.
“Yeah, sorry, I don’t usually babble at total strangers in bars,” she said, gesturing to the box he was holding. “Especially when they’re just trying to work and not get knocked over by rogue bathroom doors.”
“It’s cool,” he said, shrugging. “I don’t mind the distraction. So what do you usually do with total strangers?”
Her eyes went wide. “I… uh…”
Bartender guy grimaced. “Sorry, that wasn’t a line. Just a question.”
“Oh, right. Sorry! God, could I say that anymore? Sorry, I mean, I uh. I guess I ask them stuff,” she said with such eloquence.
“You ask them stuff? What kind of stuff?”
“Um, it depends. I’m a reporter, so I’m usually like, interviewing people for a story or something,” she said. “I’m usually better at talking than this.”
“I’m sure you are,” he said in a way that sounded only slightly condescending. Really, just slightly. “People think I do the same thing, ask questions. I worked at this other dive bar downtown before this place opened up. You’d always get these guys coming in looking to unload their problems on the bartender. Always expecting me to ask what’s on their minds.”
“Did you?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes. People can be interesting when you’ve got the time to listen.”
“That is very true indeed,” she said with a nod.
“So what do you write about?”
“Um, random stuff. Lots of local stuff. City hall stuff the regular city guy can’t get to. Crime. Vampires. Whatever comes up, I guess.”
“Working on anything cool right now?” he asked. She rolled my eyes.
“My editor’s got me combing through civil suits, looking for something fun and vampy.”
“Find anything good?”
She scoffed. “No, it’s all stupid stuff. This crotchety old man is suing his neighbor because he says his music’s too loud and the police won’t respond to his noise complaints anymore. Of course, the old man’s a vampire, so the music’s not even loud, but he can hear it really well anyway.”
Bartender guy snorted. “Good one.”
“There’s also this woman who brought a suit against her ex-boyfriend for wrongful enfangment.”
“He turn her into a vampire?”
“That’s what I thought. I checked into it but no! They’re both human.” He cocked an eyebrow. “I know, I have no idea. Judging from the file, I don’t think her lawyer knows either. But hey, great way to make a buck.”
“Maybe the boyfriend was cheating on her with a vampire.”
“Oh my god, someone would file a bullshit suite about that. You wouldn’t believe what people think entitles them to ‘compensation’,” she said, adding appropriately obnoxious air quotes.
He snorted. “That’s pretty fucked up,” he said. She laughed at the understated truth of it.
“Yeah,” Norah said, nodding. “That’s one way of putting it.” She looked at him. His blue eyes were kind of sparkling—in a totally manly way—with amusement. She sighed internally. He really was nice to look at. And standing really close. For half a second, her poor, tired brain wished she was still in college, because then she wouldn’t be calling it quits after one beer. She’d be drunk, and brave, and totally put her hands on the hot bartender’s chest and lean into him and…
Oh god. She really needed to go to bed.
Alone.
Norah blushed. Bartender guy gave her a smirk like he knew exactly what she was thinking. “Anyway…,” she started gracefully. “I’m sorry, I’m totally taking up all your time. I should get back to my sister…” She awkwardly pointed over in the direction of the bar.
“No problem,” he said. “It was nice to meet you…?”
“Oh! Um, Norah. I’m Norah.”
“Michael.”
“Nice to meet you Michael.”
“You too. Maybe I’ll see you back here sometime?”
“Yes!” Way too eager. “I mean, yeah, probably. My sister doesn’t live too far from here. Next time, I’ll ask you questions about bartending and you can give me long, detailed, rambling answers.”
“I’ll look forward to it.” There was that smirk again. This Sunday night had shaped up way better than she’d ever expected. She gave him one last smile that she hoped was at least a little alluring and walked back to Shelby and Erik.