Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“It’s not so bad,” I said Wednesday evening, looking around the far less crowded main room of the Dancing Horse.
“Yeah,” Mason agreed. “As long as you discount the stale air, the watery drinks, and the crappy canned music.”
We’d each gotten a drink and a tray of appetizers to share. I spotted a drink on the menu I’d never made before, so I was eager to see what it was like. However, when it came, it was pretty obvious the bartender, a gray-haired man in his fifties, had never made it before, either.
Still, it was fun to hang with the guys. Parker seemed slightly less glum this week, and he’d even scheduled a video meeting for the people in the cohort. My classmate, Paige, had expressed her astonishment in class today.
After an hour or so, a tiny woman who had to be nearing eighty, came over to chat. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight,” she told Jude. She looked a bit old to be one of the female fans who threw themselves at him.
“Just drinking with my friends.” He took her hand and squeezed it. “This is Delores, she owns the place.”
We exchanged greetings.
“My husband and I opened it nearly fifty years ago, can you believe that?” Delores said in a quavering voice. “But then he went and died on me, and now I run the place by myself.”
That explained a lot.
“How are the drinks and the apps?” she asked, eyeing our table.
“Good,” we lied.
“I bet they’d be even better on the house,” she said with a cackle. Then she nudged Jude with a bony elbow. “No charge if you go up there and play a few songs.”
Jude gave her a gentle smile. “I’m off the clock.”
“Come on, just a couple.” She turned to point to the back corner of the room and had to grab onto Mason’s broad shoulder to maintain her balance. “Some of the regulars recognized you and asked if you’d play.”
“He didn’t bring any instruments,” I said, trying to get Jude off the hook.
Dolores squinted at me. “You’re a pretty one. Tiny, though. But there’s a guitar in the back room and he knows it.”
After a few more minutes, Jude gave in. Delores cackled with delight, telling the bartender to get us a round of drinks.
In the meantime, Jude did something with the sound system up by the stage and dragged a microphone out to the center of the stage. He sat on a stool and started strumming the guitar.
A thrill rushed through me as he sang. I’d had a feeling he’d be a good singer, and he was. Very good. His singing voice was low and mellow, just like his speaking voice. Was there anything he couldn’t do, musically speaking?
I forgot about my drink and my food as I watched.
Mason leaned over and whispered in my ear. “You look like you want to lap him up.”
I grinned. “Maybe.”
“Well, just keep in mind he’s not your only option.”
Before I processed it, Mason straightened up and grabbed a potato skin, shoving it in his mouth.
Jude sang five songs and got an impressive round of applause afterwards. People wanted an encore, but he waved them off and attended to the sound system before rejoining us.
“That was wonderful,” I said when he got back to the table.
He smiled. “Glad you thought so.”
“This is fun,” I said. Not that Delores ran a tight ship, but it was nice being out with the guys. “We should go out more often.”
“We don’t need to now that we’ve got our own bar,” Parker said.
“Yeah, but it’s still fun to get out sometimes.”
Jude nudged Mason. “Did you ask her yet?”
“Ask me what?”
“There’s a party Friday night,” Mason began. “A buddy of mine who lives off campus is throwing it. Since you’re so eager to get out more, would you like to go?”
“Sure.”
Jude started to say something, but this time Mason nudged him.
“Should we head back?” Parker asked.
Mason nodded. “Guess there’s no need to settle the bill,” he said, clapping Jude on the back.
“But we should tip the waitstaff,” I said rapidly. “And the bartender.” None of the service had been stellar, but I knew how little they likely made.
“Right,” Jude agreed. He, Mason, and Parker took out their wallets, but when I reached for my purse, Jude put his hand on mine. “We’ve got this.”
“No, I want to—”
“We’ve got this,” Mason said firmly. I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat. It was true I didn’t have a lot of spare cash, but I didn’t want them to think I wouldn’t pay my own way.
But then Parker simplified it. “You mix the drinks when we’re back at the suite. We pay for them when we’re out and about.”
“Thanks.” His explanation made me feel better.
Mason drove us back in his Jeep. He and Parker sat up front while Jude sat in the back with me.