Desperate Chances

“Hey, Moore,” Jordan said, shaking the manager of Barton’s hand.

“So,” Moore rubbed his hands together and gave them a cheesy smile. “What are the chances I could get you guys to play here next weekend? We’ve had a cancellation and it would be wonderful to have a successful local band playing on their old stage again. It would be great for business.”

Jordan, Mitch, and Cole all shared a look. “I don’t know, Moore—”

“I’ll pay you of course,” Moore interrupted.

“It’s not about the money. We just have some shit going on next week—” Jordan went on.

Maysie leaned into her fiancé and put her hand on his arm. “Come on, Jordan, it’s just one show. It would be amazing to have you guys play here again. It’ll be like old times.”

Jordan gave her an indulgent smile. He would never say no now.

“Well, Garrett gets back from Massachusetts on Monday. I guess we could play Saturday night,” Jordan began.

Cole shrugged. “Sure, I’m down. What do you say, Mitch?”

Mitch smacked his hand down on top of the table. “Let’s do it. It’ll be nice to play to a full crowd again.”

Moore clasped Jordan’s shoulder. “Fantastic! It’ll be a great show. I’ll have Dina bring over some drinks to celebrate having the Rejects back on their old stomping ground. She’s created a special concoction just for the bar.”

“Okay, sounds good,” Jordan said.

Dina came by with a tray full of drinks. She placed one down in front of each of us. My mouth all but watered at the sight. Vivian picked it up and sniffed. “What’s in it?”

“It’s vodka and cranberry juice with some schnapps and other things thrown in. We’re calling it the Barton Reject in honor of the boys.” Mitch and Cole laughed and Jordan raised his glass in a salute.

Vivian and Cole downed their drinks. Maysie handed hers to Jordan and he set them aside. “You’re not going to drink it?” Vivian asked Maysie frowning.

Maysie obviously hadn’t told everyone about her new bundle of joy. She shook her head. “It’s a little early in the day to be boozing it up, don’t you think?”

Vivian grabbed Maysie’s discarded drink and swallowed half of it. She gave us all a wobbly smile, the alcohol obviously already having an effect. She always had been a cheap date. “It’s 5:00 somewhere.”

I swirled the straw around my drink, dunking the cherry and watching it pop back up. I really wanted a taste. What would it hurt? Just one little drink didn’t mean I would have to have the whole thing. I wondered if it tasted as good as it smelled.

“Let me get that out of your way.” Mitch reached across the table and slid my temptation to the end of the table and replaced it with a glass of water.

“Oh. Uh, thanks,” I stammered, feeling ashamed for my slip up.

Mitch lifted his shoulders nonchalantly. He was used to riding to my rescue.

“So I want to hear more about this new job,” Mitch said to me.

“Thanks,” I replied instead of answering him.

He didn’t ask what for. We both knew what I was referring to. It wasn’t just him taking the drink away. It wasn’t just him taking an interest in my new job.

It was everything he had ever done for me.

Mitch knocked his leg against mine again and gave me a sweet, sweet smile. “I read your last article about the Japanese beetle problem in the state. I had no idea they were so destructive.”

I made a choking noise. “You read Southern Garden magazine?” I asked him incredulously.

Mitch ducked his head shyly. “I like the stories.”

“Yeah, and I bet you read Playboy for the articles too, buddy,” Cole mocked, wiggling his eyebrows and glancing at me.

I ignored Cole. It was the easiest thing to do. I grinned at Mitch though and his cheeks turned red. Was that because of me?

“I should have known you were a closet dendrophiliac,” I teased.

“What in the hell is a dendrophiliac?” Mitch scoffed, trying not to laugh.

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