“You forgot Bloody Aztec, Flirtini, Rusty Nail and Orgasm,” Jace added helpfully with a laugh, eyes going a little wide when Charlie downed the rest of the drink. Yeah, she was definitely here on a mission. “As you wish,” he responded with a flourish then went to putting another drink together for her, and one for himself. Not like he could get fired for drinking on the job.
He wondered sometimes if the world hadn’t gone down the drain if he would have ended up bartending; street performing only got him so much, and if the The Horsemen was anything to go by, he was a pretty decent bartender. He didn’t mind the ‘what-if’ game, but he’d accepted the state of things a long time ago.
“I don’t even know where you live, Charlie,” Jace told her, amused, as he slid her drink across the bar and took a drink of his own. “So if you’re too tipsy to walk how do you think you’re gonna give me directions to where you sleep?” He leaned forward on the bar, not really getting into Charlie’s space, but not being real conscious of it either. “If I’m your taxi service you’re just gonna end up at my place sleeping it off.” Not surprisingly, she wouldn’t be the first person to do that. He didn’t make a habit of it, but he’d let a couple people crash with him when they were too drunk to A) get back to their place or B) remember where their place was.
He took another drink. “And that’s all assuming that you think I’ll be a gentleman, doll.”