Sarah's shout came up, and she ordered a shot. Corvin served it up for her, and she knocked it back like a champ. Jameson wondered what was up with her. She never drank like this. Then again, she was a social drinker, and there was definitely a lot of socializing going on. Made sense that there would be a lot of drinking going on.
"Hey Sar-bear, you all right?"
"Hmm? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Dude, I'm starting to think the gardener might be the murderer."
Corvin looked at her with raised eyebrows.
"I have a family to support. Do you really think I'd just go murdering my employer? Now this guy, he's got motive," he said, pointing to Jameson.
"I gave him twenty years of my life," Jameson announced, raising his chin with dignified hurt. He looked at Sarah, who was the first to break into chuckles. He did too, snorting and laughing a deep belly laugh. Even Corvin smiled as he took the shot glass.
"Jameson. You are way too into this game," said Sarah.
"I'm just trying to understand my character. After all, I could totally be the murderer, I have the motive."
"I was the mistress though," she said. "I mean, I was in love with him, or whatever."
"Yeah, but you got hush money. All I got was, apparently," Jameson said, consulting his paper. "Twenty dollars and a free dinner."
"That's harsh."
Corvin started taking other people's orders, doling out alcohol in a constantly flowing stream. People were drinking like it was going out of style. Jameson turned to Sarah, leaning casually against the bar. Sarah gave him a look with her eyebrows raised and a smirk. She glanced at Corvin in a way that made it very clear that she was asking a question.
"Are you having a good time?" she asked suggestively.
"Yeah, something like that."
"Do you think you're gonna get lucky?"
Jameson wiggled his hand with his fingers splayed. "It's kind of a toss-up. Little too early to tell."
"Keep me in the loop."
She asked for another shot, and downed it, and then turned around to go find Marceline. Once she was gone, Jameson turned back to Corvin. God, he was so fine it hurt a little bit.
Every time someone's shot came up, Corvin grinned at him. He was disarming with his charm; even grouchy old men fell victim to it. They handed him fives and even tens. Mostly it was women handing him money. Jameson grinned. He saw right through that scheme. The more people liked him, the better the tips would be. Of course, he wasn't any less susceptible to it.
Jameson watched Corvin in silence for a while. The beer put a pleasant buzz in his belly. He watched Corvin as the party went on around him.
***
"What?"
"What are you doing later?" Jameson repeated, suddenly uncertain. He had blurted it out before he had really thought it through. He didn't even know if Corvin was actually interested. He suddenly remembered all the smiles and charm the bartender had laid on for everyone else. Jameson wasn't usually shy, but then again, this wasn't exactly his usual type of guy. Corvin had to be charming to make his night worth working. Jameson suddenly worried he might have read too deeply into something that wasn't really there.
Corvin looked a little like a deer in the headlights. "Oh... Um… Well, actually, I'm not really…"
It was obvious that the bartender was at a loss for words. Suddenly, it made sense. Jameson put up his hand, excusing Corvin from answering. It hurt, but at the same time, it wasn't the first time this had happened.
"No problem, I got it. Not everyone swings for this team, my bad."
"Oh, no, I am gay," he said quickly. "I'm just not looking for a relationship right now. Or anything, really."
Jameson was relieved, and yet somehow still anxious. He nodded. "I gotcha. I understand. We all need some space sometimes."
"My ex is a little dick."
"I can relate, man."
Corvin was called away again to pour more beer and smile for someone else. Jameson watched him. He felt so awkward and unsure. Corvin was having a harder time putting on the fake smiling, though it didn't seem to bother the women who had come up to order. Jameson doubted they noticed the way he did, though.
He had gone and made things weird, and he regretted it.
At the same time, he wasn't sure he was ready to throw in the towel just yet. While Corvin's mouth said he wasn't interested in romance, his eyes sure hadn't. The bartender wore desire like a sweater.
Jameson decided to go find Sarah and Marceline, hoping that maybe they would help him stay distracted. There were several people who walked up to him and asked the questions that their scripts prompted them to ask. Several people were already starting to show signs of being quite drunk, including Sarah.
Rather than getting too stressed out about Corvin, he decided to get stressed out about her, keeping her distracted so she didn't keep going back to the bar. She did keep going back though, getting a fourth cider.
He looked at Marceline, who was doing the same.
"Is everything okay?" he asked Marceline.
Rolling her eyes, Marceline said, "Moderation isn't in her vocabulary."
The party was starting to get a little boring for everyone. People even talked about leaving. But Ash, the organizer, had been running around busily all night, and she was ready for this. She walked up to Jameson, and said, "Okay, so I need you to bribe the gardener—that's the bartender—and give him this note."
"Okay," he said, taking the folded note from her. "Can I like, read it?"
"Yeah! Yeah, just make sure he gives it to whoever is playing the mistress."
"Oh, okay. But wait, I'm with the mistress, shouldn't I give it to her?"
"No, the waitress said I should have the bartender do it because he's a stick in the mud."
"Oh, yeah, all right, I can hand it off."
She nodded and then was off again. Jameson opened the note. It said, "I know you did it, you dirty strumpet. I'll tell everyone in the room if you don't get rid of that nasty butcher."
Jameson snorted and excused himself from Marceline. Navigating the crowd, he walked back up to the bar, and said, "Hey, Corvin the Gardener?"
Corvin turned around. "Yeah, what's up?"
"I have a note for you."
He handed over the folded sheet of paper. He opened it and read it. He laughed.
"Oh, okay. Yeah, I can pass it on."
"I was told to bribe you."
Corvin laughed, and said, "I will pass it forward if you don't order another drink."
"Thanks, man."
He turned, slapping his hand on the bar. But Corvin called, "Hey, Jameson?"
When Jameson turned, Corvin was muddling limes and sugar in the bottom of a glass.
"Yeah?"
"If it slows down, you should give me your number. I can't take it right now."
The line of glasses for unmade drinks was getting longer, so Jameson nodded. His heart lifted and felt much lighter in his chest. "Yeah, I think I can do that."