Page 23 of The Bartender Special

Calvin had been casual. Felicity had…not.

That wound had gone straight to the chest and stayed around for some time.

He hadn’t just gone from a boyfriend to single.

He’d been affected.

Every part of him, it had felt like.

Unable to escape the fact that he’d been blind-sided by their break-up.

So, at first maybe he’d spent a little too much time trying to figure out what he’d done wrong. Why the happiness he was sure she had been enjoying with him had suddenly been only a solo affair. They’d laughed and had good sex and brought each other presents, remembered anniversaries, made efforts with their friends.

Sure, they disagreed on a few things—neither one was a fan of the other's profession, why would someone want to sell their soul to the corporate world and spend most of their time traveling for greedy overlords who never left their cushy home?—but that had never bothered Jack enough to make a big fuss over it.

But then he’d realized, after the fog of confusion had lifted, that maybe his job had been a bigger deal to her than the other way around.

Her floating the idea of leaving his post at the local, small-time bar for something bigger and better might have been more than just a few idle thoughts between the sheets.

Not that any of that had mattered—Jack had been vocally opposed no matter the way the idea was brought up.

He wasn’t leaving Cassidy’s Place unless Cassidy’s Place left first.

Growth, money, power?

He didn’t want that.

But he had become a grouch when he realized, even if he had wanted those things, getting any of the three wasn’t like going to the grocery store and buying a package deal.

“Even Santana started avoiding you at work,” Dixon continued after a moment. “And that woman loves being in our business, so you know when she goes quiet, something’s wrong.”

Dixon finally put his bag of chips down, narrowing his eyes again.

“And, by the way, this whole shenanigan thing you're doing with ol’ Benny Boy is going to blow her mind. Faking a relationship is already going to throw her, but add in its some poor guy who’s on all of her socials right now? She's going to eat it up.” He paused. “Wait, you're going to tell her, right?”

Jack didn’t like the feeling, but he wavered.

Telling Dixon about the faking dating—but not the real identity of Guy because he wasn’t a monster—had been a no brainer. Dixon Knox wasn’t just his cousin, he was Jack’s person. Not that he’d let his cousin get that ego boost by admitting it out loud.

Dixon had simply been his best friend since Jack knew what that meant.

Then there was the more pragmatic issue—the fact that they worked together, lived together, and hung out together. Jack could lie to him, sure, but it just made tactical sense not to try. At least not about the shenanigans part of the plan.

Plus, Dixon had a way of blurting his thoughts out loud unless prepared first.

As for Santana? It also probably wouldn't hurt to tell his only other close friend— they’d become a trio when she started working at the bar.

But.

Santana would also be the first person to admit she loved the tea.

Gossip this big would be too tempting, and wasn’t he a better friend to help her avoid such a dangerous temptation?

“I shouldn't have even told you,” Jack admitted, side-stepping a real answer. “Last time I shared a secret with you, I got grounded for a month.”

A tortilla chip flew through the air. It skidded across the breakfast bar between them.

“Hey! I don't know how many times I gotta tell you this, but Mom knew someone took the car out, and it was either you or me, cousin-brother, and I chose me. But that was an isolated incident. I’ve been faithful every day since!”