I deftly catch them one by one and set them rim-down on the counter. “Sorry about that. I promised I’d teach him to juggle if he told me secrets.”
She starts to reply but stops when she sees something over my shoulder. Joy and desire transform her concerned expression. “Damn. And here I was hoping I wouldn’t get fired tonight.”
Elliot and I turn in tandem to see a woman with long red hair and knee boots, wearing a wicked, aggressively sexual grin. She gestures to the man beside her who’s carrying a heavy speaker and sends him toward the stage before holding up her phone. “Saint Seamus said yes to the deejay. I’ve already called up half the campus and a few of the better-looking fight club members. Even Oliver and Matthew, ’cause I know they won’t snitch. Get ready for a full house.”
“You know this place. Is this normal? What is happening right now?” Elliot murmurs near my shoulder, forcing me to suppress a shiver.
“From her accent, it sounds like an Irish invasion,” I whisper back. “And I think the pub is about to become a club.”
“Well damn.”
The confident woman swaggers up, puts her hands on the bar and hoists herself over the bar to plant a kiss right on our bartender’s lips. “I told you I’d stop by, Patty.”
“Your cousin left me strict instructions not to burn this place down,” she whispers back, loud enough for us to hear.
“No promises.”
The bartender looks dazzled, and I don’t blame her. I feel the same way when we’re caught staring. “You look familiar,” she says. “Who are you then?”
“I’m JD Green’s brother, Joey. And I’ve seen you around, too. Kate, I think?”
“You can call me Calamity.” She winks one bright blue eye. “That’s right. You’re the babysitter. Who’s your friend?”
Elliot lifts his hand in wary greeting. “I’m the neighbor.”
Her laugh is as loud and bold as the rest of her. “Brilliant.” She sends a steamy glance in our bartender’s direction. “I’m definitely feeling neighborly tonight.”
“I feel like I should be taking notes,” Elliot says, chuckling quietly in my ear. “I bet she knows how to shake a hand.”
“I think you’re right about that.”
Seeing the four shot glasses on the bar, Calamity lifts a brow. “Did I interrupt a celebration, Patricia?”
Patty—Patricia—waves a hand in my direction, still looking frazzled. “He was juggling—”
“We were about to make a toast,” Elliot interrupts, surprising me. “Want to join us?”
“If it’s whiskey, then yes.”
Patricia seems grateful for the request, rushing to fill each shot glass. Calamity hands one back to her before raising her own glass over her head. “Yesterday is gone and tomorrow could be shit. So let’s all drink enough tonight that we can handle it.”
I choke on laughter and whiskey as they burn their way down my throat.
Elliot coughs beside me and I look over in time to see him making a face. “I might be too old for this.”
I roll my eyes, Tanisha-style. “If you start back-in-my-day-ing again, you little whipper snapper, then I can’t be responsible for my actions. This is fun. We’re having fun.”
His smile is bemused and adorable. “Whatever you say, babysitter.”
Damn. Everything sounds better when he says it.
Within the hour I realize that you’d have to be dead not to have fun with someone like Calamity Finn around. She’s a tornado of energy and sexual innuendo.
And she’s hunting.
At least, that’s what she tells us when Patricia gets swamped by a group of well-muscled guys who are all wearing Finn’s Ring t-shirts and bopping their heads to the music pulsing through the pub.
Specifically, she’s hunting for a man to share with her current paramour—aka Patricia the bartender.
I’ll never forget Elliot’s face when she said that. It was worth the headache I’ll probably have in the morning from the second shot of whiskey to go with our umpteenth beer.
I vaguely remember Calamity’s brother and his man showing up and saying a quick hello before disappearing onto the packed makeshift dance floor. We resisted temptation, unwilling to give up our prime real estate to the college kids crowding in around us.
Maybe I am getting old.
Nah. That’s quitter talk.
I pop a pretzel in my mouth and notice Elliot watching me. “What?”
“You look like you’re having a good time.”
“I am,” I assure him, leaning in so he can hear me over the crowd. “I missed out on this whole experience. No keg stands, no drunken club parties. I was all-work-and-no-play Joey for years.” I frown at the term. “I need to come up with a new saying. Technically most of my babysitting duties included play times, so… All-work-and-no-social-life Joey? It doesn’t have the same ring, does it?”
“I play baseball. All-work-and-no-life Elliot. At least you’ve been in a relationship before.”
I grimace at that. “Don’t call it that. I was an ATM. Cheated on and dumped. I’m not even happy that he just did the same thing to the woman he left me for. I mean, score one for karma, but I still feel like a moron.”