“Hey, Flanagan!” I called out, cupping my hand around my mouth. “I think you have the bottle drop mastered, so maybe it’s time to learn how to toss them.”
A blank stare crossed his face, and I knew he had no idea what I was talking about.
“Please tell me he knows the hotness that is Tom Cruise in Cocktail,” James demanded from behind me. “Oh, shit. He really has no clue. Oh, baby cakes, it looks like a Tom Cruise marathon is in both our futures.”
All of the color drained from Mr. Terrified-of-the-Diva’s face, and he turned back to the customers.
“Nice, James,” I said, holding up my hand for a high-five. He complied and went back to work. God, working with James and Edward was such a blast.
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