“Ladies and gentlemen, here’s a hot new crooner, the likes of which we haven’t seen since Sinatra. Tonight, Nye’s is proud to present, exclusively, the one and only… Vince Velenzio!” Jimmy yelled.
Hoots and hollers from the drunk and near-drunk patrons bounced through the cocktail lounge. Jimmy, in an effort to impress Gloria, had installed a small spotlight, which flicked on Adam, making him feel like a real performer.
“Thank you, Jimmy, for that kind introduction,” he said, sipping his vodka and lighting a cigarette, which he only did for effect. “My first song tonight is dedicated to two people who’ve recently discovered love right here at Nye’s — Jimmy and Gloria.”
Eunice played an intro. As she played, Adam became Vince Velenzio, suave crooner from another era.
Cooper, Rob, and Janice walked in while Adam was singing. Rob stopped dead in his tracks. “Keep moving, Rob. I want to hear this guy,” Cooper demanded.
“Remember my friend who blew me off for the Twins game? That’s him!” he said, pointing at Adam. Holy shit, holy shit!” he kept saying, but no one was listening.
“He’s fun. I wonder where they found him?” Cooper asked rhetorically.
“He’s just a guy who used to come here and sing on the weeknights,” an older patron chimed in. “Name’s Adam Winter. Real nice guy. Talented, too.”
At the end of his first set, Adam remained on the stage, talking to Eunice about the upcoming songs. Rob stepped up and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Yeah, I was just as surprised as you are now,” Rob laughed. “What the hell is going on? Why didn’t you just tell me about this? I think it’s cool! I bet the chicks love it!”
Adam was out now, whether he liked it or not. “Don’t start telling anyone, okay?”
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