The Bartender's Fake Date

Chapter 1

ONE

“I'm going to have to move to Antarctica.”

Benny De Carlo was staring at his computer screen, trying to run the numbers on how fast he could buy a plane ticket, pack a bag, and disappear into the icy tundra.

“It's not that bad.”

Ethan Castings was lying. Just sitting there staring at his computer screen and l-y-i-n-g. If he hadn't been Benny's best friend for most of his twenty-six years of life, Benny might have thrown something at him. Instead, he used his words.

“It's not that good, either. You did read that, right? You do understand the situation? The reason why I should invest in several parkas and get the hell out of dodge?”

Ethan was a cool, cool customer. In fifth grade, he'd eaten an entire jalapeno on a dare without so much as flinching, while Benny had run for the water fountain after just smelling it.

Ethan was like that. Level-headed, with not-moving-to-Antarctica sensibilities.

Even now, faced with a situation neither of them had ever dreamed about, with Benny trying not to throw up, Ethan was acting like the world wasn't ending.

The audacity.

“Your super-secret, highly personal blog went viral after you drunkenly decided to make it public, and now everyone wants to talk to you about it,” Ethan stated. “That's the long and short of it.”

“The long and short of it?” Benny's voice cracked. “Ethan. I need you to hear what I'm about to say. To really hear it. To feel it. Okay?”

Ethan’s steel-gray gaze swept over to what Benny could only assume was his own very frantic dark one.

“The stupid little blog I've been using as a journal on DearMe since I was seventeen is trending on every platform, and not even for the really embarrassing and awkward posts about losing my virginity or the time I had to climb out of my date's bathroom window because I couldn't face him after the world's worst first kiss.” Benny put his hands down on the desk and looked pointedly at the monitor.

“No, everyone is focusing on one thing. One thing I never, ever, ever wanted to talk about. Not even with you or Callum.” He closed his eyes and sighed, feeling the defeat deflate his shoulders.

“They want to know who 'Guy' is and why I was too chicken to ever tell him I was in love with him.”

Saying it out loud, again, made Benny's panic grow in strength.

He wilted down in contrast until he was lying on a rug that was designed to look like a little city.

Who cared that it was the floor of a kindergarten classroom?

Who cared that it probably housed every kind of germ known to man?

Who cared that Benny looked like one of the little kids after a tantrum, depleted of all energy and sanity?

Benny didn't.

Not right now.

Maybe not ever again.

The sound of squeaking chair wheels preceded the soft scuff of sneakers. Benny opened his eyes. Ethan was staring down at him. He had the decency to at least look concerned.

“Okay, putting aside a few facts—like you were the one, drunk or not, who had the bad sense to change the settings from private to definitely not private—I have to point out a few things you're taking for granted.” He listed each point off on his fingers, some of which were covered in paint and glitter.

Even when Ethan wasn't prepping for the annual Sailors and Mermaids Festival, he always seemed to be covered in the stuff.

A hazard of being surrounded by tiny humans all day, no doubt.

“One, most people nowadays do tons of out-there stuff just for the chance to have something of theirs go viral,” he started.

“Yelling on airplanes, taking ladders into movie theaters, uploading twenty-part videos of them talking about how their spouse was cheating on them with their cousin… All you had to do was drink way too much rosé, change a setting, and go to sleep.” Benny cringed at the mention of rosé.

The bottle that had done him in had been a gift.

A gift that had transformed into one heck of a hangover curse.

The betrayal still ran deep. “Two, not only is your blog trending, but it's trending for good reasons. The internet sees your awkward, hot-mess life and has deemed it relatable and charming. They like you, see themselves in you, and want more. Which brings me to numero tres.”

Ethan motioned to the monitor and the email Benny had pulled up on its screen. The same email that had pulled him from sulking on his brother's couch all the way to Arbor Bay Academy’s germ-ridden rug. He'd only been lucky that the timing had worked out so the kids had already left for the day.

Not that it would have mattered. Benny was so stressed, he would have included everyone, kindergarteners and teacher alike, in his freak out.

“It isn't just bored people scrolling on their phones or teenagers glued to screens who want more. You have a legitimate literary agent who thinks she can turn The One Who Said Nothing into a book. A book. I mean, I can't even fathom that. That's big news, Benny.”

“But there's a catch.”

Ethan nodded, three fingers still in the air.

“Yes. For the chance at a new, exciting life as an author, there's a small catch. You have to get closure.” He put up one more finger, but his expression softened.

“You have to finally tell Guy that you used to be in love with him but didn't have the nerve to admit it. Then? Write it and move on. Right into a book deal.”

“You make it all sound so easy.”

“It is,” Ethan pointed out. “That agent lady just wants you to finish the story. She wants you to give your audience and potential future readers closure. I get that.” Ethan shrugged. “Sure, maybe it'll be a little embarrassing, but it could also be therapeutic.”

Benny threw his arm over his eyes, dramatic as hell, and groaned.

“You just want me to take the agent's deal so you can find out who he is!”

Ethan didn't deny it.

“I do think it kind of stinks that you know all my secrets but, for whatever reason, refuse to tell me who this guy is. I mean, I didn't even know you thought you had a soul mate until I read the blog like everyone else.”

Benny groaned. Again.

He would never forget writing the one post where he wondered if Guy was his soul mate, but he sure was hoping everyone else would forget reading it.

“All I'm saying is that if someone offered me an exciting chance like this to change my life, I'd at least think about it,” Ethan added.

“But I like my life.”

Ethan looked down his nose at Benny. He kept some thoughts behind his lips, of that Benny was sure, before he responded.

“Wouldn't it be nice to give yourself more options, though? At least get yourself some more money to have more options. I mean, honestly, you work how many jobs for a small apartment hours away from me, your best friend? You could always take the money from the book deal and set up shop here.”

Benny shook his head, putting a hand up into the air to emphasis the full stop of what he’d said.

“You leave my jobs out of this,” he said.

Sure, Ethan wasn't wrong. Benny did bounce between several jobs within the event planning world in Nashville.

He'd been a florist's assistant the longest, but worked part-time for a catering company and also picked up the odd job for several venues when the occasion arose.

It wasn't a traditional career by any means, but Benny loved being a part of it all.

“I've been working for years to build up the resources and connections to start my own event-planning business in Nashville. Not to mention Mrs. Baker offered me co-owner status at the florist shop if I could buy in. If I take this deal, that’s where the money is going. So come off trying to make me come back and commiserate with me in my embarrassment instead—like a true best friend.”

He heard Ethan sigh.

A small silence filled the classroom. Both men were in uncharted territory.

The silence slowly gave way to the outside world of Arbor Bay, Alabama.

It didn't matter how long Benny was away from the small town, its sounds never really changed.

A loop of the same old, same old. Sometimes it was sleepy.

Sometimes it was loud. All times it was familiar.

Even now he felt like he'd never been anywhere else, despite having an entirely different zip code.

Construction on the academy's float for the festival kickoff in two weeks already had various poundings and yelling coming from volunteers and staff who'd been roped in.

A car horn blared somewhere down the block.

Sprinklers were chh-chh-ing across the street.

The same street that, if followed without taking any turns, eventually led to the edge of town. And right to the Robertson estate.

Where it all had started.

Where Benny had fallen in love and then been foolish enough to talk about it on the internet.

What were you thinking?

Finally, Ethan spoke. His earlier concern had transformed into a paternal voice that zipped urgency down Benny's spine.

“Benny De Carlo, you get off of my floor right now. This self-pitying crap is no longer endearing. Get up now.” Benny uncovered his eyes to see the shock of red hair topping over the face only now starting to scold. Which meant it truly was time to wrap it up.

Begrudgingly, Benny let Ethan help him up. His tone only marginally softened again when they had both straightened. Ethan patted Benny's shoulder.

“You've been given an opportunity some can only dream about.

Sure, you didn't ask for it, and it comes at a cost to your pride, but think of the upside.

You've spent years writing these feelings in secret, and now you might be able to make a living at doing it full-time, or at worst, use it to help you fund your future business. All you have to do is finally be the one who says something and then you can move on. So stop spiraling and start figuring out what to do next. Capiche?”

Benny decided to save his sighs, lest he run out before dinner.

“Capiche.”

But then his phone started ringing.