Page 1 of Heartstrings & Hijinks

Evan

“I’m sorry, Evan. Mark has me working late on this stupid fucking report. It’s a bunch of bullshit.”

I continued playing with the label on the one bottle of beer that I had in front of me. I was seated in our usual booth, but I’d only been here a few minutes. The server knew me well enough to grab my favorite beer without asking what I needed. “It’s fine, man. Rain check for tomorrow?”

“I don’t know. If I’m working all night, I don’t know that I’m gonna be able to hang tomorrow. Getting too old for this shit.”

I chuckled at that. We were barely in our mid-twenties, both of us having graduated and immediately gotten a job at FinSol Solutions, which had been started by my brother and his best friend.

Was it sort of nepotism that I was hired into my brother’s firm?

Yes. But in my defense, I had also gotten offers at other places, and I could get a job anywhere I wanted.

I just liked supporting my brother Greg’s company.

Not to mention the other Gregory. Gregory “Don’t call me Greg” Alton was the other founder of the company, my brother’s best friend, and a damn fine specimen of a man. Until he spoke. Or frowned at you in a way that had most young associates crawling under their desks.

“Anything exciting happening at the bar?” my friend asked.

I looked around the place. It was a typical scene, nothing too exciting. We had long since given up our club days. The rowdiest we ever got was on karaoke night at our favorite gay bar, but that was only on the third Friday of the month, and this was just the second Friday.

“Hey! You can’t miss next Friday. That’s karaoke night,” I said. “You promised we’d sing again.”

Sawyer groaned. “You’re going to drag me on stage again?”

“You say this every month as if you don’t love it. I even got a few other people to come out. We’re all pitching in for endless beer and bottomless fries.”

Sawyer groaned even louder. Then I heard his boss in the background.

“Shit. I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you at work tomorrow, probably. Or Sunday. If Mark ever lets me out of here.”

He said that as if he didn’t love the job he did. I knew the late nights were done by choice, not force. Plus, our company was fantastic about flexing time. Working late this weekend meant Sawyer would take half of Monday off.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’ll be heading out pretty quickly, probably as soon as I finish this drink.”

“Find a hookup, man. Get laid for me. God know I’m not these days.”

I laughed at that. Sure. I could talk a big game, but I was a monogamous type, and hookups just really didn’t do it for me.

Also, I had an endless crush on the Vice President of Operations, Gregory “Don’t call me Greg” Alton.

Not that I would ever admit that to him.

He was the grumpiest son of a bitch around.

The last time I interacted with him it was because he sent me a strongly worded email letting me know that bringing in donuts so often had the potential for bringing down productivity, and I should take a little more care in how often I brought them in.

And if I was gonna continue to bring them in so often, make sure that everyone was contributing their fair share.

Yeah. Gregory “Don’t call me Greg” Alton was a buzzkill. But underneath that tough demeanor was… I didn’t know what. There had to be something, though, or maybe I was just delusional. I saw it in his eyes sometimes, though. He was more than his grumpy appearance.

After I hung up the phone, I put it face down on the table, deciding to lean back and just watch the crowd for a while. It had been a pretty good week at work, but I was ready for the weekend so that I could unwind. Not that I was overly stressed. I never did let stress get to me.

Just as I was finishing my beer, a man at the bar caught my eye, not because he was attractive, but because he was being sketchy as hell, looking around to make sure no one was watching him. Then he dropped something into the drink next to his and swirled the straw around.

Oh, fuck. No. He did not.

A lady came into view. She sat down at the stool. Just as she was about to lift the drink up, I was moving before I could stop myself. I grabbed the drink from her hands.

“Hey there. Let me have a taste of that,” I said. And I chugged it all back, downing it in one gulp.

“What the hell, man?” The would-be roofier glared at me.

Ha! Foiled his whole plan!

The lady’s jaw nearly hit the floor. “Umm, can we help you?”

The reality of my actions slammed into me. Oh, that was stupid. That was so stupid. I looked at the now empty cup in my hand and my stomach churned. Not only was there some unknown substance in there, but there was cheap rum, and that shit was nasty.

The guy looked at me like I was insane, and the lady just sort of laughed like she was maybe on a prank show.

“Listen. He put something in there, and I had to stop you from drinking it.” I flagged down the bartender. He came over immediately like he had a sixth sense for trouble. “You need to call the police. He just put something in this drink.” I pointed at the man in question.

“I saw it too,” another lady came over, holding up her cell phone like she was going live for millions of followers. Fuck, I hoped not. “I was gonna stop her from drinking it also, but then he drank it.”

The bartender raised a brow. “You drank the drugged drink?”

“Yes.” Now that I was realizing my actions, that was incredibly stupid. Nothing I could do about it now.

The bartender looked at the man. “Don’t go anywhere. I’m calling the police.”

“I’m already on the phone with them,” the lady said. Plenty of others were watching the scene unfold. If the man tried to escape, someone would stop him.

I sat down and put my head in my hands. How fast did this stuff work? The lady I saved from being drugged sat next to me and put her hand on my forearm.

The criminal let out a string of curses and started shouting. I drowned out his words.

“We’re gonna need to call someone so you can go to the hospital or go home and sleep it off. I heard him say that it was just a mild thing, so you might not need a hospital, but you can’t drive.”

I groaned and leaned my head into my arms over top of the sticky bar. “Oh, that was so, so dumb.”

She laughed. “It was, but it’s kinda funny. And, well, you saved me from—” She shuddered. “An awful situation.”

“Well, I am glad for that,” I said. I tried to look at her, but the room spun like one of those carnival rides I enjoyed as a kid but didn’t have the stomach for now that I was older. The lights flickered and dots filled my vision.

“Oh, goodness. Stay still. I’ll get your phone from your table.”

I nodded. When she came back, I tried to use it, but everything was getting a little fuzzy. My fingers wouldn’t work, and I ended up getting myself locked out for a while.

“Call Hot Gregory. He can pick me up.” Or did I need her to call Not Hot Greg? How was my brother saved in my phone? Was he saved as brother? That would be weird. He had to be under his name, but I needed to have him saved differently than Hot Gregory “Don’t call me Greg” Alton.

“Got it,” she said.

She talked for a little while to me or to someone on the phone.

I couldn’t tell who it was. The room was spinning so much that I was having trouble making sense of it all.

At some point, a man in a police uniform talked to me or something, and he gave me a card.

I put it in my wallet or my pocket. Or maybe I ate it. No. I probably didn’t eat it…

Then Hot Gregory was there, saving the day.

Hadn’t I said not to call Hot Gregory?