Page 8 of Spiced!

They closed out their tab at midnight.

Courtney’s original hard out had been ten-thirty, but the revised schedule had been revised twice more during the evening. At some point, it had simply ceased to be a relevant document. They left in the warm, unsteady, deeply satisfied way of people who had received more than they’d planned for. Madison hugged everyone individually, including Jacks, Mark, Benji, and Rod, who submitted to this with varying degrees of stoicism.

Courtney shook my hand at the door. “I’m adding Barbacks to the official schedule next time,” she said.

“I’ll be here,” I said.

The bar emptied in the half hour after midnight, the usual end-of-Saturday drift. By one-fifteen, the room had gone quiet. Jacks was running the closing check, and Benji was doing the last of the well inventory. I sat at the bar with my arms on the counter and rested my head on them, letting the glorious quiet wash over me.

Finn appeared at my side.

He looked at me.

He looked at the bar.

He looked at Benji, who was biting the inside of his cheek.

He looked at Jacks, who had found something interesting to examine on the other side of the bar.

“So, how was the night?” Finn asked.

“Fine,” I mumbled into my arms.

“I heard some of it from the office.”

“Define some,” I said.

“I heard Dennis.”

I lifted my head. “What exactly did Dennis say? I couldn’t hear him over the hyena squeals.”

“The important question,” Finn said, with careful precision, “is not what Dennis said. The important question is what the groom is going to say when he sees the video the woman in the ‘Ride or Die’ sash posted forty minutes ago.”

I let my head drop back onto my arms and groaned.

Benji made the sound he made when something was so funny that he was physically struggling to contain it.

“It’s a tasteful video,” Jacks offered, somewhere to my left.

“It is not tasteful,” Benji said. “It’s hot.”

“It’s tasteful-adjacent,” Jacks said.

“It is adjacent to tasteful in the same way that—”

“I’m a professional,” I said into the bar counter. “No lines were crossed.”

“Nobody is questioning your professionalism,” Finn said.

“You’re all questioning my professionalism.” I lifted my head to meet Finn’s gaze.

“We are admiring your professionalism,” Benji said. “The crowd formed a circle, Adrian. Organically. Nobody organized it. The circle simply emerged.”

“The circle was not my idea,” I said.

“The circle was absolutely your idea,” Benji countered.

“Benji.”