Page 32 of The Bartender Special

“I have, but way back in the day,” he answered. “My mom was a part of Missy Robertson's book club when I was little. Mrs. Robertson hosted a family event after they read some book and had the greenhouse in the garden all set up for it.” Benny walked across to another stone while trying to sidestep the familiar ache in his chest. “I don't remember anything about the actual book they talked about, but I do remember how shiny everything was. Callum kept swatting my hands away from touching anything, worried somehow that if I broke something he’d be the one who had to pay for it.” Benny joked now, but he remembered making a conscious effort to listen to his brother back then. He’d handled his drink with care while looking longingly at a glass-blown boutique flower centerpiece he’d desperately wanted to glide his finger along.

Alas, he’d listened to Cal.

“What about you?” Benny followed up. “Any occasion to see how the higher tax bracket gardens?”

Jack’s smile was all sly and smooth.

It made Benny double down on his focus to avoid falling flat on his face.

“That’s a big no,” he answered. “I never had a reason to come here and definitely never got an invitation. Same for my parents. Though, they didn't really stick around town long enough to visit any of the tax brackets, so I’m not sure I can blame the royal family for keeping their distance.”

“Where did they go? Somewhere with less humidity?” That was usually the answer when families left the zip code. Well, for jobs…and escaping the humidity.

Though, apparently there was a third reason.

“Weed.” Benny laughed out loud. Jack reached out to steady him at the wobble. “Colorado, specifically,” he continued. “Under the cover of helping my grandma out after she got sick.”

Benny sucked his humor back in and tried to spin around to face him without compromising his already-iffy balance. Jack’s hold on him tightened.

“Oh, I’m sorry I laughed,” he hurried. “I just wasn’t expecting⁠—”

“Weed,” Jack finished. That sly smile stayed right where it was. “Don’t worry. I would have laughed too. Nothing wrong with the truth, or my grandma being sick. It’s just a part of life.”

Benny took a moment to search the man’s face.

It really seemed like the bartender hadn’t taken offense.

He continued walking, a question already forming.

“And you decided to stay here instead of joining your parents?”

Benny felt the movement of Jack’s nod through his hold.

“I did,” he said. “I wanted to help Dixon and Cassidy’s Place. The devil’s work, as my grandma called it, never mind her husband opened the bar and her other son was the one running it.”

Benny couldn't tell if Jack resented his parents, his grandma, or his decision to stay judging by his clipped tone. He also didn’t have time to dive into an investigation.

The stone path had led them to a moss-covered archway.

The entrance to El Dorado.

Despite his internal humor, Benny’s nerves recoiled into a spring in his stomach.

“It’s another world in there,” he said to Jack, dropping his voice to a panic-whisper. “A maze of plants I don’t know the names of, a big fountain you’re not supposed to throw pennies in at the center, and the greenhouse that makes their house look like a basic bitch.”

This time, Jack was the one to laugh.

“Did you just call the Robertson’s house a⁠—”

“Well, aren't you two just darling!” The squeal that interrupted Jack became a woman appearing ahead of them with a sun hat that was roughly the size of a small child on her head. Jack released his hold on Benny's hand and repositioned it to the small of his back.

It was only because of the little push he gave that Benny entered Carol Robertson’s orbit.

“I've been called a lot of things in my life, but I don't think darling has ever been one of them,” Jack said, tone switching to customer service smooth.

Benny hoped to copy his confidence during the next hour or so.

Carol was absolutely delighted.