“Hey, man, sorry.” He stumbled back another step, tripping into the chair behind him.
Dylan felt Tilly move to his side. He gently pushed her behind him. If she hadn’t been here, he would have escorted this douchebag out of the bar himself, but no way was he leaving her in here alone.
One of the nearby waitresses rushed off. Hopefully, she had the sense to go and grab one of the bouncers.
“Time to go home, buddy,” he said in a low voice.
Everyone around them had stopped what they were doing to watch, probably hoping for some drama.
“I ain’t-ain’t going anywhere,” the little man said. His shirt was stained and half-untucked.
“Yeah, you are,” Dylan said firmly, nodding to the large bouncer who approached.
“Says who?” the guy asked belligerently.
“Says me,” the bouncer rumbled before grabbing his arm and moving him toward the back door. The drunken guy just gaped up at him, obviously lost for words.
Tilly moved up beside him and slipped her hand into his. “Ouch, he’s really going to regret that in the morning.”
Dylan glanced down at her as she tugged on his hand. “Are you okay?” she asked him.
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Me? I’m fine. He barely even touched me. I would like to know who the hell kept serving him drinks though.” Still holding her hand, strode towards the back of the bar where the pool tables were. It was a lot quieter back here, with just a few people drinking and shooting pool.
“Why do you care?” Tilly asked.
“Ahh—”
“Hey, Dylan, I stuck him in a taxi and sent him home. He could barely remember his own address.” Axl, the bouncer, walked toward him.
Dylan frowned. “Where’s Marc? Why wasn’t he managing this situation? And who kept serving that guy drinks?”
“Dylan?”
Dylan turned to see his business partner striding toward him with a harried look on his face.
“What’s going on? Laura said there was an issue?” Marc asked.
“Where have you been?” Dylan asked as Axl retreated hastily. “Some idiot managed to keep getting drinks long after he should have been cut off.”
Tilly remained quietly at his side as Marc flinched.
“Shit, my sister called me and I had to leave. I’ll have a chat with the bar staff.”
“Marc, if you need extra help—”
“I don’t. I can handle this.” Marc looked at Tilly. “You’re busy, I see. I’ll leave the two of you alone.” He strode off without another word, leaving Dylan staring after him.
Tilly ran her hand up and down his arm soothingly. He gazed down at her and let out a deep breath. “Sorry about that.”
She shrugged. “Nothing to be sorry for. Do you own this place?”
“Marc and I are partners. I don’t tell many people because I’m supposed to be a silent partner.” He grimaced. “I didn’t do a very good job tonight.”
“He looks stressed,” she commented as Marc approached the bar staff, his shoulders tense.
“His mom is dying of cancer,” he explained.
“Oh, that’s horrible,” Tilly said sadly. “Is there anything we can do to help him?”