Sam grinned then passed them the flier he'd snagged. "Word is, it's some shit-hot rich guy with, uh, connections. And he bought and is opening this new club. But before it opens, he's having the biggest party of the year or some shit. Thus the staffing. Rumor says if he likes you, it may turn permanent."
He shrugged. "Personally, not looking for perm here. I like my gig at Karma. But wouldn't mind a one-off," he sent Keiran another look. "And thought you all might be interested."
He knocked back the shot of vodka he'd brought over to the booth and set the empty glass back down, smiling as he felt the alcohol trace a path to his gut. He noticed the untouched beer on the table and cocked an eyebrow. "I thought you only drank rum," he tutted. "Maybe that's why you aren't touching the beer?"