Funny Girl

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER TWO

This club, The Cackle, was one of Evie's favorite places to perform. It was incredibly low-key and low-budget, bordering on ill-kempt, but the owner was generous with his cut to the acts, and Evie especially enjoyed the bartender, Susannah. It wasn't her usual style to hang around after a set at the bar, but when she played The Cackle, she always looked forward to a chat and a terribly made cocktail – gin and tonic. After signing a few autographs and posing for some selfies with several audience members, Evie sidled up the bar, tossing a grin toward the bartender, a woman in her mid-forties with a torturous looking muffin top hanging over her pleather pants, and a pleasant, albeit doughy complexion. Susannah smiled at Evie, who had become one of her favorite people over the past few months. Evie reminded her of her daughter, whom she hadn't seen in over six years.

"What's up, momma? How's tips?" Evie perched herself on a slightly sticky barstool, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose with a fingertip.

"I'll letcha know if I see any, kid."

"Possibly include some gin or vodka in a drink, and I bet you'd find some." Evie grinned again and winked.

Susannah smiled back good-naturedly, already reaching for the ingredients for the comedienne's favorite drink. "You know how it goes."

They both did. Alan, the owner of The Cackle, had very specific instructions on how to make drinks; namely, weak. Most people knew to order bottled beer by now, but Evie hated beer. Susannah usually managed to find a less tortured looking lime slice to put in her drink, and slipped a little extra gin in too. Perks of being famous.

Evie accepted the drink and turned her gaze over to the stage, where a band called Pixie Stixx were setting up to play the 10:30 spot. At least half the crowd had already dispersed. She felt a little bad for them, but they were kind of terrible. Alan had a bleeding heart for musicians, especially really bad ones.

As she watched the drummer struggle with his kit, out of the corner of her eye she noticed two men standing off to the side, drinks in hand. One was quite tall, with the kind of wavy dark hair that the men in perfume ads always seemed to have. His face was intensely handsome, with sharp edges and soft lines all in perfect proportion. He was dressed nicely in a pair of black wool crepe slacks and a v-neck sweater in charcoal grey. The man next to him was shorter, with a bit of a paunch belly, but you could tell he had the ability to lose that and look more athletic easily. His hair was cropped short and he was gesturing about him, in seemingly intense conversation about... the light fixtures? That was what he was pointing at. Evie glanced up at said fixtures momentarily; they were pretty awful. The two men just looked really out of place here. She wondered if they had come out to see her? Or the Pixie Stixx? Or? She shrugged, turning back around to Susannah.

"Anyway, how's that horrible boyfriend of yours? Larry? Lucas? Lemming?"

Susannah rolled her eyes. "Albert." She placed a dish towel on the edge of the bar before leaning on her elbows. "Oh, let me tell you..."

##

Harry was barely listening to Oliver. He had already made up his mind to give Oliver the money he wanted, if only for the simple fact that horrible drinks in plastic cups were a disgrace. Far more intriguing to him, was Evie Pinto. She was, admittedly, hysterical, in that off-beat, self-deprecating, feminist type of way. And she was so funny, in that get up that reminded him of a catholic school girl gone bad. It was kind of hot. She was utterly the opposite to his usual attraction, and that made her all the more fascinating to him. So, when he saw her sit down at the bar, he made up his mind that he was going to talk to her. In fact, he was going to do more than talk to her. He was going to buy her a drink and then charm the pleated skirt off of her. Maybe leaving those Doc Martens on. He wondered where a person even bought Doc Martens these days.