The boss grinned widely, and gently pushed his daughter back down to her chair.

“Stay, okay? The night’s young.” He turned to Ben and then Jonah. “I’m appointing you two characters as her wingmen. Make sure she’s taken care of, right?”

“We got this,” Ben said, shooting Brice a thumbs-up.

“Shot time!” yelled somebody at the end of the table.

“Yeah,” one of the accounting girls echoed. “Shots for everybody!”

Their server materialized, taking orders as they were shouted out.

“Jägerbomb!”

“Buttery Nipple!”

“Mind Eraser!”

“Redheaded Slut!” Ben yelled.

“Angel’s Tit!” Jonah called. He pointed at Drue. “What’s your pleasure?”

“Lights out,” Drue said.

“Huh?” Ben looked puzzled. “That’s one I’ve never heard of. And I’ve tasted every shot ever invented.” He held up his phone and tapped an icon. “Look. I’ve even got a Shots Spreadsheet.”

“It’s not a drink, it’s a statement,” Drue said. “Sorry to be such a wet blanket, but I’ve gotta head out.”

“No way,” Ben said. “You heard the man. You gotta at least stay for a round of shots.”

“This is so ridiculous,” Drue said, shaking her head. “I’ve never understood why they call it ‘happy hour.’ More like ‘amateur hour,’ if you ask me.”

Jonah groaned. “Spare us the lecture about how immature we are. Can’t you just let go and join the party? Have a little fun? I never would have thought any kid of Brice’s would be such a tight-ass.”

“Shows how little you know me,” Drue shot back. She drained her margarita. “Okay, I’ll play if you’ll play. How about you order me a shot, and I’ll order one for you.”

“Deal.” Jonah turned to the server. He gave it some thought. “Can you make a Crouching Tiger?”

The girl shrugged. “I guess.” She looked at Drue. “How about you?”

Drue smiled. She’d mixed a Crouching Tiger or two during her bartending days. Tequila and lychee juice. An obnoxious combination, in her opinion. But if he wanted to go that route, she could do him one better.

“Bring my friend here a Prairie Fire.”

“Does he still want the, uh, Angel’s Tit?” she asked.

“Doesn’t everybody?” Ben said, smirking. She could tell he was fairly wasted.

Their server nodded and just before she turned to head back to the bar, shot Drue a secret, congratulatory smile.

Their server had some skills. When she came back she expertly unloaded the correct glass in front of each member of the team. She hadn’t written anything down, Drue noticed. She was just that good.

When she reached the end of the table she slid the bright red shot glass in front of Drue. “Crouching Tiger for you.”

“Redheaded Slut for the redhead,” she said, placing Ben’s glass in front of him.

“And for the gentleman, an Angel’s Tit and a Prairie Fire.”