Page 4 of Mr. Infuriating (Mister #1)

Gretchen

Even though I’d arrived past our agreed-upon time, I still beat Laura to Flannigan’s, so I took a seat at the bar where I could see the TV and the door.

“What can I get you?”

The bartender was hot, and judging by his flirty grin, he knew it.

“I’ll just have a Coke until my friend gets here.”

“Are you waiting for a guy or a girl?” he asked as he scooped ice into a glass.

“Does it matter?”

“Not to me. I just wanted to know who to keep an eye out for.”

“My best friend, Laura.”

His flirty grin turned mischievous as he pressed a button on the bar gun and shot soda into the tumbler. “You girls gonna paint the town red tonight?”

“Honestly,” I glanced at his name badge and continued, “Derrick, I’ll be lucky if I make it past nine o’clock.”

He pushed a black straw into the ice, then set the drink in front of me. “Long day, huh?”

“A hundred seventh graders have a tendency to drain your energy.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he said with a laugh. “My nephew is in seventh grade, and he’s a cool kid. But I couldn’t imagine a hundred of him, all day, every day. ”

“It can be challenging. Fortunately, I get them in chunks of twenty at a time. But honestly, I wouldn’t want to do anything else.”

He smiled thoughtfully at me.

“You found your calling.”

“I found my calling,” I agreed before taking a sip through the straw.

Derrick filled drink orders while he chatted with me.

I didn’t get the impression he was hitting on me, and he definitely wasn’t angling for a big tip considering I’d ordered a four-dollar soda.

He genuinely seemed interested in talking to me.

I found I enjoyed his company, too, and it wasn’t until my phone buzzed that I realized I’d been waiting a while for my friend.

Laura: Please tell me you haven’t left your house yet.

I glanced at my watch.

Me: I’ve been at Flannigan’s for thirty-five minutes. Where are you?!

Laura: I am so sorry! I’m still at work! My boss came in just as I was getting ready to leave and dangled a chance to be part of a big project in front of me if I helped him with the presentation. It’s taking longer than I thought it would. I think I can probably get out of here in an hour.

Me: I don’t want to wait an hour. We can do this another time.

I was a little miffed at my BFF for making me come out for nothing and miss dinner with Jake but decided to give her a pass. She didn’t have kids yet, so she didn’t understand. I knew she wasn’t intentionally being thoughtless.

Laura: How about two weeks from tomorrow? I’ll pay for a sitter if Carrie or your parents can’t watch Jake, and I promise I’ll be there before you, and drinks will be on me. Plus, you’ll have all weekend to recover.

Again, she didn’t understand that just because I wasn’t working, didn’t mean I had no other responsibilities. Keeping a two-year old alive was no simple feat. Not something easily done hungover.

Me: It’s a soft yes.

Laura: Again, I’m so sorry, and I apologize for not texting sooner. I feel awful making you wait by yourself.

Me: It’s okay. I’ve been chatting with the bartender, Derrick.

Laura: He’s not the bartender. He’s the owner. I think Vicky fucked him last year.

Me: I don’t want to sleep with him, but he’s been really nice. It makes sense, knowing he’s the owner.

Laura: Maybe he has a brother.

Me: Maybe. I’ll talk to you this weekend. Don’t work too hard.

Laura: Love you. Thanks for understanding.

Me: Love you, too.

I set my phone on the bar and slipped my purse off the back of my chair as I smiled at Derrick .

“Well, my friend isn’t going to make it, she has to work late, so we’re going to try again two weeks from tomorrow.” I pulled my wallet from my purse. “What do I owe you?”

“Aw, I’m sorry she couldn’t come,” he waved his hand. “The soda’s on me. Thanks for keeping me company.”

“Likewise,” I said as I slid off the barstool. “Thanks for the Coke.”

“Are you guys meeting here when you go out again?”

“I think so.”

“Good. I hope to see you then. Have a nice night.”

“You, too.”

I left with a smile. Even though the evening had been a bust, I was glad I’d gone out. I proved to myself that I could be alone, and I’d be okay.

Staring at the hunky bartender had helped.

It was true what I told Laura. I didn’t want to sleep with him. Especially now, knowing he’d been with our friend, Vicky. She was a trainwreck. A sweet trainwreck, but a hot mess, nonetheless. Derrick obviously didn’t have very high standards about who he slept with.

But he’d managed to make me feel good by taking an interest in me, and my still-bruised ego appreciated that.

****

Gabe

After Brayden’s game, I decided to swing by and say hi to my brother and see what possibilities were at Flannigan’s tonight .

I took a seat at the bar, and Derrick greeted me with a big smile and set a coaster down in front of me.

“Hey! Was your spine tingling? ’Cuz I was just thinking about you!”

I eyed him warily while he pulled a frosty mug from the cooler and filled it with my favorite draft beer.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. You just missed meeting your soulmate by twenty minutes.”

I snorted when he set the beer in front of me. “Looks like I dodged a bullet.”

“I’m serious, man. I talked to her for like, forty-five minutes, and the whole time I was thinking how great you two would hit it off.”

Some matchmaking dust must be in the air tonight or something.

“Okay, I’ll bite. Why do you think we’d hit it off?”

He shrugged. “I can’t explain it. She just had the same energy as you. I could see you two getting along and talking all night.”

“Well, hate to break it to you, little brother, but I’m not really interested in talking with a woman all night, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, she was hot, too. In a naughty librarian kind of way. She teaches seventh grade.”

I tried not to choke on my beer.

“That’s just what I need—a date with Brayden’s teacher. Becky would hand me my balls on a paper plate.”

Derrick looked dejected when he replied, “Hadn’t thought of that.

I just thought your kids would like her since she hangs out with middle schoolers all day and probably would know how to relate to them.

” He seemed lost in thought as he pulled a ticket from the printer, set it in front of himself, and prepared a drink order.

“Did I mention she’s hot? And really sweet. ”

“I’m not looking for sweet.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot you like those dramatic, crazy bitches.”

“Nope. I divorced crazy and dramatic, and I like my freedom, thank you very much. I’m not looking for anyone who wants something more from me than one night.”

“You never know. That might be what she’s looking for, too. She was supposed to be meeting her friend, and I got the impression they were going on the prowl.”

“Where’d they go?”

“Her friend ended up working late, so I think she just went home. Good news is, they’re meeting here in two weeks to try again on a Friday night.”

That could actually work. Becky and I had switched weekends, so I had the kids two weekends in a row and would be available in two weeks.

I gave my brother a noncommittal grunt, and he continued his sales pitch.

“You should drop in, see what happens. No harm in meeting her if you both just happen to be sitting at the bar.”

“Yeah, maybe.” I glanced around the room, trying to determine if there was anyone worthy of “meeting” tonight while I was already there.

Derrick noticed me surveying the prospects, of which there were few.

“You’re too early, man. You gotta come in after eleven if you’re looking for a hookup.”

“ After eleven ? On a Thursday night ? I’ll be home in bed, sound asleep by then. Some of us work all fucking day and are tired by ten.”

My little brother chuckled as he mixed alcohol and soda in a glass. “Maybe you should try a dating app for old people.”

“Fuck you. I’m thirty-nine.”

“You act like you’re seventy-two.”

I took another swig of beer and set the mug on the coaster with a sigh.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m seventy-two.”

Even though it wasn’t completely empty, Derrick picked up my glass and set it under the tap to refill it.

“You need a pretty little thing to keep you young.” He put the beer in front of me. “I’m telling you—two weeks from tomorrow, around seven...”

I shook my head when I remembered I already had plans.

“Brayden has a tournament that weekend. His Friday game won’t be done by then.”

“Well, then come as soon as it’s over; I’ll stall them until you get here.”

With a raised eyebrow, I paused as I lifted the mug to my lips. “How would you do that?”

“Dude, I’ll just give them the Mitchell charm. Works every time. You should probably polish yours off.”

“Yeah,” I snickered. “Mine does need work.” I thought about the conversation Gretchen Wainwright had overheard.

“Just think about it. What’s the harm in stopping by on a Friday night for a drink with your little bro?”

“There’s not, I guess.”

Famous last words.