I shrugged. “Whatever. All I’m saying is she looks pretty toasted. Maybe y’all should take her home.”
Jim let out a roar of laughter. “Right. Like Charleston Monroe would go for being told what to do.”
Throwing down the dishrag, I let out a string of curse words. “Well, I’m not going to let her leave with a stranger when she got drunk in my fucking bar. I’ll take her home.”
“What? You’re leaving?” Pam asked in a panicked voice.
I turned and smiled. “I have to take a friend home who drank too much. I won’t be long. Hold the fort down for me?”
Her face beamed with pride. “Of course!”
Walking around the bar, I headed over to Charlie’s table. Stopping in front of her and the dickhead, I cleared my throat. She looked up, frowned, then focused back on him. His hand slipped a little farther up her leg, and I was happy to see she had the sense to push it back down.
“Charlie, I think you’ve had enough to drink. Why don’t you let me take you home now?”
The guy stood up. “You her boyfriend or something?”
Popping up, Charlie stumbled but grabbed the table. “No. He is most certainly not my girlfriend.”
Flashing her a confused look, Charlie covered her mouth and laughed. “Boyfriend. He’s not my boyfriend.”
Without taking my gaze off of her, I added, “I’m her friend though.”
Narrowing her eyes, she shot me a serious go to hell look. “Friend? Is that what you call ignoring me for the last seven years.”
There was no way I was getting into this with her here. “We’re friends, Charlie, and I’m worried you’ve drunk too much. With your declaration of wanting to get a strange dick tonight, I’m thinking that might be a bit dangerous.”
Her mouth dropped open and the guy next to us said, “Well, hell yeah. I knew we had something going on, baby.”
Charlie looked between the both of us. She must have done it one too many times or too fast because she started to sway.
“I’m feeling … funny.”
The guy next to me took a step back. “Dude, you can have her. I don’t do the ones who throw up.”
I watched as he took off toward the bar, stopping to talk to the blonde I had been talking to earlier.
Bastard.
When I looked back at Charlie, she was really swaying. “Come on, Pumpkin. I’ll get you home.”
She held up her hand to stop me, but quickly dropped it. “I think … I may throw up.”
Sweeping her up and into my arms, I headed down the hall to the back of the bar. One of the waitresses called out, “You leaving, boss?”
Calling back over my shoulder, I replied, “Just taking a friend home.”
“Yeah. Right. Don’t forget a condom!”
With a roll of my eyes, I pushed the back door open that led to the small parking area reserved for the managers and me.
“Hold on, Charlie.”
She covered her mouth. “Oh God. Tucker. I’m going to be sick.”
Stopping, I set her down just in time. She leaned over and puked everywhere. I’ve worked in enough bars to know how far to stand back when someone hurls. And boy was Charlie hurling. Fucking hell. She must not have eaten a damn thing today.
“Jesus. I think I’m dying,” she mumbled.