sort of sincerely. “I honestly don’t have time.” She turned away with a shrug and hoped they’d let it go.
“But that’s exactly why you should play,” Karma said, grinning. “Because if you win, your choice could be us taking over behind the bar for a couple of hours.”
Cassie stopped. Turned. But instead of facing off with Karma, her gaze went to John. He’d clearly given up all pretense of watching anything but the little drama unfolding right next to him. Cassie should shut it down, tell them to wait for another time, but she had to admit it was tempting. Acing her test was beginning to feel like an impossible dream. Now she faced her challenger. “You tend bar? Please. You barely know how to drink, let alone mix.”
Karma, who really did have a big mouth, just raised an insouciant eyebrow. “How hard can it be? Pour a beer, wash a mug, pour another beer.”
“Oh, yeah? I win, you take the bar for two hours. Then we’ll see how easy it is, Princess.”
“What if I win?” Karma asked.
“You won’t.”
“Still.”
Cassie narrowed her eyes. “Winner’s choice.”
A chorus of “Ohhhhhhh” came from the spectators. Cassie didn’t give a spit about anyone out there, she just wanted to win. Well, almost anyone. John had not only forgotten the TV, he hadn’t taken a sip of his beer yet. Odd, his gaze stayed directly on her. Even with Karma’s provocative statements, he hadn’t given the blonde so much as a glance.
“Deal.” Karma lifted up her beer mug. “Let the record show the game is on.”
Cassie’s eye roll should have gotten applause, but everyone was too caught up in the ridiculous game. “I haven’t got all night.”
“Okay, Cassie O’Brien. For the championship. What is Spencer Reid’s IQ?”
Cassie let out a breath. Of course she knew that. It was Criminal Minds. She was a huge fan of the TV show, and especially Spencer. Or Hotch.
It was 187. Or was it 189? Damn. Her first instinct was right. It was always right. She opened her mouth to say the number then remembered the quiz she’d had in her class last week. She’d gone with her first instinct and she’d been wrong.
“Tick tock,” Ariel said, her voice far too jovial.
“I have the right to refuse service to anyone,” Cassie said. “So keep it zipped.” She had to choose. She’d go with her first guess, because that was a deeper memory, one that came from the source.
“Time!” Ariel jumped up from her bar stool, flinging beer like confetti as she raised her glass to Karma. “You won! You won! You rock so hard!”
Cassie couldn’t breathe. How had...? No way had she lost to Karma and her college cronies. No possible way. There was a mistake. A drunk girl had kept time, it couldn’t be right. She’d had the answer on the tip of her tongue.
The noise was worse than midnight on New Year’s Eve. Seriously. Everyone was shouting. Even the old goats were banging on tables. Gordon was twirling his wheelchair, and that man could barely lift a glass.
It was only a game. And only her first loss. Her face shouldn’t be blazing hot. The only thing to do was be gracious as all hell. Smile like she meant it. Give the girls their due.
She’d have plenty of time later to poison their drinks.
* * *
THE BAR HAD GONE BERSERK around John, but all he could do was stare. Not at the mayhem, but at Cassie. He’d had no idea this competition of hers was so fierce. More than the reaction from the patrons, watching her face had told him just how deep the cut of losing went. But he had to give it to her. She was rallying like a champion. From the straightening of her shoulders to the almost real smile on her face, she looked as though she’d stumbled, not fallen. Somehow, she’d even managed to tame her blush. Very impressive.
He still felt terrible for her. If he could have, he’d have swept her out of here, taken her somewhere far removed, like up to Mount Charleston to look out over the valley.
As it was, he did his best not to look pitying. Although she hadn’t glanced at him since time had run out.
Karma was the one to actually calm the crowd down. Not completely, but for a bunch of people fueled by alcohol, she did a damn good job. Her ear-piercing whistle helped. “Quiet. It’s winner’s choice time.”
Another round of stomping and shouting took several minutes