Otherwise Occupied-676 Bar and Grill Teaser/Outtake

I'm looking forward to @TwiFicMeetup in Chicago just a few days from now!  For those who haven't read it, Otherwise Occupied takes place in Chicago, and Evan takes his date to a restaurant/bar right around the corner from the Twific Meetup hotel!  You will very possibly see some of the staff there that I wrote about in that scene.  

I definitely plan on making a trip over there, probably Saturday evening after dinner.  [Mr. Savage says I spend to much at adult toy parties - I'm not allowed to go! LOL]  I would LOVE some company! 

So - I'm buying a round of one of their famous martinis for the first five people who tell me they want to go!

All are welcome, I'm just not one of those with limitless funds.  LOL!  If you are going to be at the meetup (or just live in Chicago) and are interested, email me at shaysavage@shaysavage.com and let me know!  First come, first served (free)!

Hope to see you there!

In case you haven't read it, here's a little clip of that scene!

The 676 Restaurant and Bar was just a block down from the famous Tiffany’s jewelry store and in the same building as the Omni Hotel.  I helped Bridgett dodge the drunks and other pedestrians as we made our way into the building.  The downstairs was your usual hotel stuff – front desk, concierge, bellhops – but upstairs there was a small restaurant and bar that mostly catered to the hotel’s guests.

I wasn’t sure what was better – the food, the drinks, or the banter between the staff.

“This place is…nice,” Bridgett said softly.

“Good service, too,” I informed her.  “They have the best martinis in the city.  You like martinis, right?”

“Sure, I guess.”

Her hesitation caused me to stop in front of the elevator and take her by the elbow.

“It’s okay?” I asked.  I had no idea why I was feeling suddenly hesitant.  I hadn’t been to 676 for a while, but I was there enough in the past to be considered as much of a regular as anyone was.  I’d never actually taken a girl up there with me, though.  I’d taken a couple away – or at least as far as their hotel rooms upstairs – but never brought one in with me.

“Whatever you like,” Bridgett responded.

I scowled at her lack of answer, which seemed to make her smile.  Her hand reached up and touched the side of my face.

“It’s fine,” she said.

I leaned over and placed my lips against hers.

“You’ll love it,” I swore to her.

I took her up the elevator to the fourth floor and held her hand as we walked into the bar area.  I recognized almost everyone there immediately and was glad to see familiar faces.  Michele was tending bar, and Patrick was managing.  They were an interesting duo – and just watching the two of them interact was worth the price of the drinks.

The drinks were damn good, too.

“What do you want?” Bridgett said.  “A beer or something?”

“No,” I said, “definitely not.  Do you like raspberries?”

“I guess so.”

“Hey, Michele!”

The bartender smiled and waltzed over to me.  Her dangling silver hoop earrings danced around on her shoulders as she moved, and her mahogany hair swung back and forth in a high ponytail.  She had on basic black from head to toe, like pretty much every bartender there, and her smile earned her a lot of big tips.

“Hey there, Evan,” she said with that award-winning smile.  “What can I get for you?”

“Give me one of those raspberry martinis you make,” I said, “and Lagavulin, neat.”

“Who’s this?” she asked with a sly grin as she started to make the drinks.

“Michele, this is Bridgett,” I said.  They both smiled at each other.  “Bridgett, this is Michele with one ‘L.’”

“Don’t forget it!”  Michele laughed and nodded her head, which caused her ponytail to bounce around.  She reached up on a high shelf to retrieve my scotch and then moved farther down the bar to gather the ingredients for the martini quickly and efficiently.

“You really are going all out here, aren’t you?” Bridgett commented as Michele set our drinks in front of us.

“I figured after last week, you kinda deserved it,” I said with a shrug. “A night on the town is the least I can do to make up for a night with me sick as a dog.”

“Four nights,” she reminded me.


I sipped my scotch and watched her take in the surroundings.  It was a nice place – posh, in the heart of the Magnificent Mile, and with a good view of Michigan Avenue.  Michele exhibited her usual rockin’ service and seemed to be going the extra mile to be nice to Bridgett, even if she did keep glancing at me sideways.  The way she raised her eyebrows, I wondered if she suspected Bridgett’s occupation.  Not that it mattered to me – I didn’t give a shit what she thought of my date.

Patrick stopped by and placed his hand on my shoulder.

“Good to see you again, Evan!” he said with a big Doogie Howser smile.  “Haven’t seen you in ages!”

“Been busy,” I replied.  My eyes bore into his.  “I’ve been working a lot lately.”

Patrick removed his hand, cleared his throat, and gave me another managerial smile.

“Make sure you treat this guy well, Michele!”

She gave him a “thumbs up” as she went back to mixing drinks for a couple farther down the bar.

No comments:

Post a Comment