Eversea A Love Story

kept the place ticking. It was only really busy on the weekends when it became more of an islander’s bar than a restaurant. It helped that our owner, Paulie, had a subscription to the local sports games. Most residents took offense to having to buy a premium package on their cable contracts just to watch the Tigers or the Gamecocks. Hector ducked his dark head back in the kitchen muttering something in Spanish.
    “Sooo, what’s new in the world of entertainment?” I nodded at the magazine Jazz was devouring while I filled a glass with ice and some fine Irish whiskey.
    Jazz looked up and groaned in happiness. “This is such bliss. I haven’t been able to sit around and read a trashy magazine for months. You know my mom won’t let me even have them at the house, says I’m liquefying my mind while she’s paying my tuition. I can’t wait to move out, as much as I’ll miss her.”
    Jazz was going to college up at USC Beaufort, but living at home to save cash and working in a local boutique. I smiled in sympathy at my friend and delivered the stiff drink down the bar.
    Hoodie guy was still scrolling through his phone with his long fingers, mindless of the drink I set down with a napkin on the polished wood in front of him. I sighed and strolled back to Jazz.
    “You know you can move in, Jazz. It’s just me knocking around there while Joey finishes up med school.” She pretended not to hear. I had made the offer a million times, but Jazz and my brother, Joey had dated briefly one summer when Joey came back from college. To say he broke Jazz’s heart when he left was an understatement. I wasn’t sure anyone realized how much Jazz cared for him, least of all Jazz herself. For my sake they had patched a makeshift and delicate friendship for when Joey returned for holidays. But now, between school and interning and an upcoming residency, he was home less and less.
    “So McDaniel still trying to set you up with Jasper?” Jazz asked, as she flicked the pages over. “You do need to have a date now and again you know ... stay in practice for when the real deal comes along.” She winked.
    “God, Jazz!” I quickly glanced at Pastor McDaniel to make sure he hadn’t heard me taking the Lord’s name in vain again. Oops. “You know I have too much on my plate to date right now. And who would be the real deal around here for God’s sake?” Wow, I was on a roll tonight. Luckily the good pastor was getting ready to head on out. I returned his wave as he left. It was a good thing he was walking home, I would have had to lift his keys otherwise.
    “You won’t believe it,” Jazz exclaimed, totally dropping our topic and staring at the magazine in her hands. “Audrey Lane had an affair with her married director! That cow. I can’t believe it. She’s supposed to be dating Jack Eversea.” Jazz looked horrified. She idolized Jack Eversea, along with possibly every girl in America.
    I laughed at her. “Jazz, you do realize most of that stuff is made up, right?” I leaned over to look at the dubious and grainy photos she was tapping a lime green fingernail at, and then stopped at the abrupt sound of a stool scraping back.
    We both looked over to see Hoodie Guy stand up and angle his back to us. He fished a wad of cash out of his jeans pocket, and peeling off a bill, placed it on the bar next to his unfinished drink.
    I noticed Jazz’s eyes roam down to rest on his extremely nice rear-end, encased in trendy denim.
    I smacked her on the hand once, hard.
    “Ow!” she yelped and I grinned.
    Hoodie Guy tucked his chin down and walked out of the front door.
    I met Jazz’s eyes as she glared at me in mock outrage. “What? He had a nice ass,” she humphed and went back to her tabloid. She wasn’t wrong, I was just more concerned with his weird behavior.
    “Order’s up,” Hector barked from the kitchen pass through, passing out a Styrofoam box. Great. Oh well, on the bright side, if he didn’t return in five minutes, I was taking a burger home tonight. He better have left enough to cover his tab, I thought to myself. I walked down and grabbed the money off the bar. A hundred. Huh. I rang it up and pulled out the change from the register.
    “Hector,” I called back through the pass through. “It was a good tip night.” I passed eighty dollars in cash over the counter and into the kitchen. As much as I needed the money, Hector needed it more.
    “ Madre .” I heard Hector chuckle.
    “Shoot, I gotta