The Party Crasher: Novella

by Erin Bevan

  “What?” she asked.

  “You had this weird look on your face. Like you’d see a ghost or something.”

  Just thinking about a killer, but saying that out loud sounded even crazier than thinking it.

  “It’s nothing.” She waved a hand. “Really.”

  “Okay.” He cocked his head to the side and stared at her, obviously not believing her. He glanced down at her drink then turned. “Oh.” He raised a hand to the bar tender. “And she’ll have a lemon with her drink.”

  The man gave a grunt for a reply before he turned his back to them and began pouring ice in a cup.

  “You know, I could have ordered my own drink.” She placed the rim to her lips and drank. The fire of the whiskey burned all the way down to her toes.

  “I know you could have, but I figured after an afternoon like you had, you might need something a little…stronger.”

  Touché. He had a point there.

  “Still, I could have ordered my own drink.”

  He nodded as the bar tender slid him his drink and her a small saucer of lemon wedges.

  “Point taken.” He grabbed his glass and held it up. “How about we start over?” he asked.

  “Over?” She raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes. Our introduction was a bit messy at best, so let’s have a do over, so to speak. Hello.” He held a hand to his chest. “My name is Brant, some call me Brantley, a very small, beautiful angel calls me Uncle Brant, or Uncle B, and I am honored to make your acquaintance, Miss…?” He raised an eyebrow in question.

  She rolled her eyes and held up her own drink. “Kit. Kit O’Hare.” She raised her glass to toast.

  “Wait? I’m sorry.” He pulled his drink back before the two made contact. “Did you just say your name was Kit O’Hare?”

  “Yeah, why?” She gave him a curious glance. Being new to town, she hadn’t made many friends. Well, none actually. Did someone say something about her in the past?

  “Ha.” He let out a bark of laughter. “This is rich. Too rich.” He placed his glass back down before they toasted. “So you mean to tell me,” he hooked a thumb to his chest, “I was tackled by an Easter Bunny named Kit O’Hare.” A deep belly laugh pulsed from his stomach and filled the bar with the joyful noise.

  Maybe she wasn’t the crazy one after all.

  She stared around her. A couple from the other end of the restaurant watched them along with the bartender and a few other scattered patrons.

  She sat her glass back down and folded her arms, placing her elbows on the bar. Tall, Dark, and Handsome joyfully laughing at her name did not bring a smile to her face. In fact, this guy had her zipping one minute and fuming the next. She kept her voice low and asked, “Will you keep your voice down? People are looking.”

  “I’m sorry.” He held his stomach and took in a deep breath, his face red from the exertion of his uncalled-for joy.

  “Why is my name so funny?”

  “It’s just that you do know baby rabbits are called kits, right? And your last name is O’Hare, and hare is a type of rabbit. It’s almost as if you were destined to play a bunny at some point in your life.”

  At least it wasn’t a Playboy one. Something was going right in her life after all.

  He snickered again, albeit quietly this time. Her name and her recent situation brought him entirely too much joy. She tapped her fingers on the rim of the bar, irritation causing her to square her shoulders. “Yes, well, I’m glad you find everything so funny.”

  “Oh, Kitty Cat, come on. I’m just messing with you.”

  Kitty Cat? No one called her Kitty Cat, but an overwhelming urge to meow came over her. Better than bunny hop. Her cheeks heated, and she took a sip of her drink. If she were going to sit there like a flushing idiot, at least she could blame the alcohol.

  “I’m glad you find today so amusing, since you are the one who took the cake.”

  Hardy-har-har. Yeah, it was stupid, but at least it got him to stop snickering.

  “Yeah, I got a chance to lick some of the icing, too. Shame the thing went to waste. It was delicious.”

  She wanted to lick the icing…and off him, not off some plastic plate.

  What the hell?

  That was it. She was done. She needed to get the heck out of there before she did something stupid, like meowed in real life. He obviously messed with her mind.

  She pushed her stool back. “Listen, thanks for ordering me a drink, but I think it’s time for me to go.” She pulled a ten out of her pocket.

  “Now, wait. Don’t leave so soon. I promise I won’t make any more comments about earlier. Sit. Enjoy your drink.”

  She stared into his pleading green eyes. A hint of mischief still played in his gaze, but deeper than that she saw sincerity. Heat traveled the length of her body, and this time she couldn’t blame it on her drink.

  Shit.

  “Fine.” She sat back down. “Besides, today really isn’t all that funny seeing as how I’ve lost my job. A job I very much needed.”

  “Your job as an Easter bunny?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I was never supposed to be the bunny. The real bunny didn’t show up. Something about his girlfriend breaking up with him or something like that, and no one would wear the suit. I was the event coordinator for the whole thing.”

  “An event coordinator you say?” He sipped a drink of his Johnnie. “Interesting.”

  And maybe if she still had her job, and the event went off without a hitch, she would be interesting. Now, she was just pathetic.

  “Yeah. I was. Keyword being was, and what sucks the most is I really needed my job, too. All part of my big plans.”

  “Big plans?”

  “My future. But, anyway, to make everything work today, I thought instead of not having a bunny I could play the bunny. Just for twenty minutes or so during the egg hunt. City Hall had an old costume, and I thought it would all work out. What I didn’t expect was for the costume to weigh a hundred pounds, smell like a gym sock, my head to hit the top of the eye holes, and for the feet to be five times larger than my own.”

  “Is that why you fell? Tripped over the feet?”

  “Sort of. I fell because some kid ran into me and I stumbled back. You just happened to be in my path.”

  She sighed and took another sip of her drink.

  “So, you really think you’ve lost your job?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Oh my God, how could I have not?” She placed her highball back on the coaster. “If the mayor himself didn’t fire me, I’m firing me for him. Besides, his wife is a real bitch. She didn’t want me to have the job anyway.”

  “Yeah?” Brant cocked an eyebrow. “And why would she care?”

  “All I know is Mrs. Fuller wanted her niece to get the job. May Flowers. You know her?”

  “I’ve seen her around.”

  More of those red flags from earlier shot up again. In what capacity had he seen her, she wondered, as jealousy extended its sharp claws. “Yeah, well, you and about a hundred other guys.”

  Shit. She’d really just said that out loud.

  She took a sip of her drink, not daring to look him in the eye. If he showed an ounce of acknowledgement to what she just said, he’d lose any interest to her. And right now, he’d been about the most interesting aspect of her day. How sad that would be.

  “Wait.” He held a hand out to her. “I don’t know her like that. I just know her.”

  His eyes held a deer-in-the-headlights look, and her insides flipped.

  “Well, it doesn’t matter. I’m not here to pass judgment on the girl.” Even though she totally had been. Personally, Kit had only seen May a handful of times, but each one, May had given her nothing more than a once-over before she kept marching on her three-inch stilettos. Rumor was, May found every woman her age and younger a threat, and considering Kit got what May had always considered her job, Kit didn’t seem high on May’s favorite list.

  “I’m just saying,” K
it continued, “Mrs. Fuller wanted May to get the job, but the mayor insisted on giving me a try, and I appreciate him for that. This was my first real job. I guess I owe it to the man to officially quit or let him officially fire me. Whichever way it goes.” She dared to look Brant in the eyes. Now, she saw sincerity still, mixed with…pity. The idea cut her somewhere between her neck and her stomach and everywhere in between. She didn’t want his pity. She didn’t want anyone’s pity. She wanted her job.

  “I know, sad. I’m twenty-six and finally landed a job. I partied in college a little too much, and then by the time I did get out, waitressing was about all I could find until this came along. I did a little planning on the side, but nothing more than a birthday party here or there. I needed better connections to plan better parties, and I think maybe Mayor Fuller felt sorry for me. You know, he’s an all right guy when his wife isn’t around.”

  Brant’s jaw hardened at the comment before he swiveled back toward the bar. “Yeah, I’ve heard that.” He took a sip of his drink.

  Perhaps the guy wasn’t a friend of Fuller’s, or just had an issue with politics in general? Nothing like politics to ruin a conversation. She continued, “Well, I guess I can look on the bright side.” She swiveled her highball glass in her palms. “At least I put on an event no one will ever forget.”

  “Right you did.” He turned his intoxicating smile on her, the tension in his jaw erased. He pointed to her unused lemon wedges. “Add one to your drink. That’s the way it’s supposed to be.”

  She did as instructed and took another sip, the alcohol not burning nearly as bad. “You’re right. It is better. How’d you know?” More so, how did he know this type of drink suited her and her mood?

  “Let’s just say drinks are my specialty.”

  His specialty. Like a raging alcoholic specialty?

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean.” He turned back toward her, placed his foot on the end of her stool, and propped his elbow on the bar, leaning closer. He glanced around as if to make sure no one watched before he whispered, “That new bar opening across town…that’s my bar.” He hooked a thumb to his chest.

  His bar. So he did know a thing or two about drinks. No wonder he’d been trying to push one on her after the incident.

  She leaned in a little closer and whispered too. “So, what is this? You checking out the competition?” She glanced around the bar.

  He whispered back, the sound low and husky. “Something like that.”

  She shivered. Even his whispers were perfect. Who really was this guy?

  “Well, here is a little tip for you. Individual bar nuts.” She pointed to the bowl she had scooted away from her when she first arrived. “Ain’t no way in hell I’m sticking my hand in a bowl of nuts every Tom, Dick, and Harry’s hands have been in. I know those aren’t the only nuts they’re touching, if you get my drift.”

  He cocked his gaze to the bowl. “Point taken.” He held his hands up. “I promise when it comes to me and how I run things there will be no community nuts.”

  He sure did have a way of twisting words around. What the heck was he even talking about? His bar? Or his own nuts?

  Leaning in even closer, he whispered, “And you know what else?”

  She stared at his lips. He had a nice mouth. No surprise there. Everything about him seemed to be top notch. What would be even better is if those lips came closer. So close, yet still so far away. Damn shame. “What?” she asked, focusing on his words instead of his lips or his nuts.

  “I think you would look better in my bar.”

  Was this his pickup line? Lord, he needed work.

  She leaned back “Your bar?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And why is that?” She took another sip of her drink, the moment of staring at his lips lost.

  “Because.” He popped straight up, his eyes open wide in excitement. “I just happen to need an event coordinator on my staff. My bar opens in two weeks and my coordinator quit today via text.”

  Wait? A job? He’s offering me a job?

  She nearly chocked on sheer excitement as she sipped her drink. The alcohol flowed down the wrong pipe, and the mix of soda and whiskey burned her nose.

  She coughed and sputtered.

  “Are you okay?” He rubbed her back.

  “Fine.” She held up a hand to her mouth. “Fine.”

  “Water for the lady, please,” Brant asked the bartender.

  The man nodded and reached for a glass.

  Could the embarrassment stop with this guy? She cried and choked all in the same day. But, a job? She needed an event-planning job, and right now, her options were limited. “A job?” She coughed again. “You want to give me a job?”

  “Well, sure.”

  The bartender placed a water glass on the counter, and Brant slid it to her. “Here, drink this.”

  She took a sip, and used the napkin to wipe her mouth again.

  “Better?”

  “Yeah. Thanks.” She balled the napkin and tossed it on the counter. “Back to this job offer. Why? Today went horribly. You saw that. Why would you give me a job?”

  “Yeah, it did, or at least that’s what I thought at first. But after you told me your story, my view changed.”

  “How so?”

  “Because from what you’ve told me you were a girl who stepped up to the plate when no one else would. Yeah, you didn’t do so well as a bunny, but at least you tried. We’ll just make sure we don’t have any costumed characters for the grand opening of Betsy’s. What do you say, Kit? You want to be my new event coordinator?”

  A job. A way to pay her bills, keep her dreams moving forward, and show her dad she wasn’t a complete and total screw up.

  She had experience waitressing. Maybe not in a bar, but still, she had restaurant experience. And at least she wouldn’t ever be in a position to ruin anyone’s dreams working in a bar, unlike what she’d done with the kids and the Easter Bunny. If people were sitting in a bar, chances were their dreams were already ruined.

  “Starting pay is forty-thousand.”

  Five thousand more than she was offered by the city. And at least her boss would be a helluva lot better looking.

  Shit. Brant. Her new boss. Any dreams she had of those lips on hers would be squashed if she said yes, but her rent payment was due in two weeks. Kisses didn’t pay the rent. Forty thousand dollars did. She stared longingly at those lips one last time before she reached out her hand. “I’ll take it.”

  “Great.” He reached for hers. “Welcome to Betsy’s.”

  Those same zip-zapping tingles from earlier shot up her arm, and she quickly pulled her hand away. “Thank you. So, when do you want me to start?”

  “First thing Monday. Come to the bar about nine.”

  Nine. An hour later than her city job started. That she could do.

  “Where is this place?”

  “Oh, right.” Brant grabbed a napkin. “Can I have a pen, please?” he asked the hairy guy.

  The man handed Brant a pen from a cup behind the bar.

  Brant scribbled down an address. “Here.”

  She took the napkin and stared into her new boss’ gorgeous green eyes. “Well, Brant…” She stopped and realized other than his first name, that’s all she knew. “What’s your last name? I feel like I should know it, now that you’re my new boss and all.”

  “Yeah. I guess so. It’s F…Forrest. Brant Forrest.”

  Forrest. She’d never heard of any Forrest’s in Stony Brook, granted, she hadn’t lived there long.

  “Well, Mr. Forrest, I will see you bright and early on Monday.”

  “Just Brant. No Mr. Forrest.”

  She nodded and scooted her chair back. “Sure. Well.” She sighed and reached back in her pocket.

  “No. Please.” He held out his hand. “I’ve got it, and come Monday, I’ll show you what a real Seven and Seven is supposed to taste like.”

  That’s not all she wanted to taste.


  No! Thoughts like that about the boss were off limits. “Okay, well.” She gave a little wave. “Thanks, boss. See you Monday.”

  He stood. “Yeah. See you.”

  She could do this. She could work for an attractive man. She turned back and saw him watching her as she walked, his eyes holding a mischievous glint. Damn, he was yummy. Working for him may prove to be a lot harder than she hoped. She turned around just before she smacked into the wooden door. Placing her hands in front of her to prevent the collision, she rolled her eyes to the sky and breathed a sigh of relief she didn’t add a black eye to her day. While she might not have her pride anymore, at least she had a job.

  That would have to do for now.

  Chapter 4

  Brant watched Kit turn the corner of the bar through the glass windows, and his stomach immediately stopped leaping. Every time she looked at him, he would get this tingle inside, this urge to just lean over and kiss her. He’d almost talked himself into it right before she left, but instead, he’d offered her a job. He couldn’t kiss an employee. Now, he’d really screwed everything up, and not to mention, he had nicknamed her Kitty Kat. The endearment just sort of slipped. He’d have to make sure it never slipped again, or he could be slapped with a lawsuit for sexual harassment now that he was her boss.

  Holy hell.

  He slid back onto the barstool.

  “Want another?” the bartender asked.

  Brant glanced at his glass, the last remnants of his drink watered down by the melting ice. “Yeah, that would be great.”

  “You know, lying to a pretty lady is never a good idea.” The giant man grabbed a highball from his station then proceeded to load it with ice.

  “Yeah? And how do you know I lied?” He watched the guy as he poured three fingers worth of Johnnie into the glass.

  “I went to school here. We weren’t ever in the same grade, but I remember you. You’ve been gone a while.”

  “Yeah, just got back recently to open a business.”

  The bartender slid him his drink. “The new bar. My boss, Jake, you know, he ain’t real happy. He’s been the only pub in this town for thirty years, and word around town is your dad ain’t real happy either. He wanted something else for your path.”