Manbrarian Monday
“I’ll have the stroke of luck.” His speech was as weak as his chin, faltered like he was scared of women. But something in his eyes said she should be scared of him.
The stroke of luck was the Pub’s term for brew of the day. Another example of dirty sounding luck puns. ‘Stroke of luck’ wasn’t always bad. But this guy made it uncomfortable.
Jane smiled and headed to the bar to place their orders, she pushed the discomfort from her mind. He was simply a patron and had to be treated as such.
“Hello Gorgeous.” Casey Kenneth gave her an absolutely charming smile. He was both handsome and gay as the day was long, but he was super sweet and her closest friend at work, if not college. They shared a deep commitment to equal rights, UU religious values, and a love of fabulous shoes.
“Hello yourself.” Jane chimed brightly. “A Boston lodger, two margaritas on the rocks, and a stroke.” He reached over and ran the back of his long fingers down her cheek, it was their running joke. From afar they looked intimate, but five minutes with Casey told you they weren’t.
The feeling of feeling watched returned as did the tingle not experienced since two days ago when she shook Dominick Sobers - King hand.
And then there he was, sitting in a booth on her way to the kitchen. They locked eyes and she felt one of those rare smiles, the ones that absolutely must occur on their own, split her face. He returned it and she fluttered. But she had work.