Page 38 of The Bartender Special

The cards were against Jack and him rubbing elbows under normal circumstances. Decent man or not.

Marcus, inherited red flag and all, thumbed over his shoulder to his twin.

“It’s not a problem with me. I barely got in because I was late. The boss around here is a strict one.”

Carol huffed.

Then Felicity moved into view.

Everyone quieted.

Jack cleared his throat.

Felicity Fairchild had what Jack used to call a politician’s smile. Default polite, always on in public. A mask fused with pristine makeup she applied every morning, even if she didn’t plan on leaving the house. She had moments of comfort—of letting down her hair—but they’d always come with a sharpness. A prickling of something. Frustration? Annoyance?

Jack had thought it was just part of her personality—some people had a prickle to them and there was nothing wrong about that—but after the breakup, he’d started to suspect that had been more to do with him than her.

Now wasn’t the time to think on it.

Felicity was all politician polite.

Her hair, the color of whiskey, was pinned back in a long, neat ponytail and the makeup around her bright green eyes went nicely with the patriotic red, white, and blue striped dress wrapped around her long body. She must have been working out more since they'd split ways, Jack couldn’t help but note. He could see it in her arms and, with a brief glance, her legs.

There was no denying that Felicity Fairchild was a looker. That much Jack could always say, no matter how he felt about her.

“Nice to see you again, Felicity,” he said. “Congrats on the news.”

“Thank you,” she replied, smile not slipping an inch. “It's good to see you, too.”

She settled in the seat across from Mrs. Robertson while Marcus took the seat opposite Benny. Jack, taking his own chair again, moved a little closer to Benny. The metal scraped the stone beneath them enough to earn a look—but nothing more—from his fake beau.

Jack wasn’t about to let the whole thing lie, though.

He motioned to the man, who was probably trying to mentally burrow out of the greenhouse via the ground beneath his chair, at his side.

“And I'm sure Benny here needs no introduction but, just in case, this is Benny De Carlo.”

Marcus and Felicity were fast.

“You definitely don't need an introduction,” she said. “I've been hearing your name around town for a week straight!”

“The One who Said Nothing has everyone talking,” Marcus followed up. “I think that’s poetic, right?”

Benny was regaining some of his normal coloring, but the smile he gave was a little uneven. He really didn't seem to like being the center of attention.

“I’m not sure anything about what I wrote counts as poetic but it’s definitely been an interesting experience so far.”

Carol, very much someone who liked the center, leaned in and changed the topic to something more focused on her.

“We must all sound like we're on repeat by now, I'm sure, so why don’t we give Benny here a break and talk about something more pressing?”

She scooped up an untouched mimosa, let her sun hat go free, and waved over an older man in an honest-to-God butler getup. Jack hadn't seen him before, but he appreciated the platter of food he carried. And boy howdy, he'd have to tell Dixon that there were tiny sandwiches on it.

Carol gave a little clap after she claimed her little sandwich.

“The Sailors and Mermaids Festival is officially two weekends away, and this year I’d really like it if we made it a big splash.”

“Pun intended,” Marcus added.