The bartender, who also happened to be the owner of the bar, smirked as he took a shot from the counter. "My bar's usually packed around this time. VIP tables at the back too. That could cost you thirty grand."
"Round it up to fifty for damages," Ace said, dropping a black card on the counter.
The bartender's eyes gleamed as he quickly snatched it up.
He watched as Ace gestured for Vivian to take Zara from his arms.
"You sure you can handle them? My staff won't get involved. Bad for business," he warned.
Ace started toward the back corner of the bar. "Even better."
The alcohol was catching up to Zara. Her eyes fluttered, her legs unsteady. Her mind kept drifting in and out like a faulty radio.
"Vivian, let's go home," she finally murmured, her voice soft.
"No, ma'am. Not now," Vivian muttered, eyes wide with excitement. "Not when I'm about to see a new side of Mr. Carter."
She gently shook Zara and pointed, whispering, "Look, Mr. Carter's here."
