“And then what happened?” Jude asked from the barstool next to him.
Mack lurched upwards, supporting his heavy head with a fist under his chin. “How can you sip your beer so calmly when my life is in shambles?”
Jude’s glass paused halfway to his lips. “Probably because I’ve been listening to you repeat the same interaction for the last twenty minutes. You’ve lulled me into submission.”
Mack swiped at whatever substance now dampened his brow. “And then I tried to go after her.”
“But…” Jude prompted, gesturing tiredly to Bertie, who poured him a shot of whiskey.
“But Horace arrived, and then we were all shouting at each other. By the time I extricated myself, my bobcat—”
“She had already quit. Jesus, I got it. What’d Horace say?”
Mack twirled on his barstool and leaned toward Jude. “I stood up to him.” He gave a nod for good measure. “I said ‘The ploy ends today, good sir. I cast myself at the feet of Lady Justice.’”
Jude stared at him like he’d lost his mind. Maybe he had. “I don’t know how to deal with this drunk version of you. You’ve turned into an insipid actor.”
“He means he told Horace he was out of the game, the consequences be damned,” a dry voice said behind them. Mack spun around so fast he almost toppled to the ground. His nemesis, Emil Anderson, saved him from an inglorious plummet to the questionable bar floor.
“Horace said Mack was lucky he didn’t fire him on the spot, and that I inherit the newspaper,” Emil concluded.
“Congratulations.” Jude’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Have you come to gloat?”
“Should I punch him?” Mack’s whisper was overly loud to his own ears. “I feel like this calls for a punch.”
Emil took a step out of range. “Don’t punch the one person who can help you.”
What could Emil possibly do to help him now? Mack squinted. And why wasn’t he wearing his normal smarmy smirk? Was it the dim light, or did the Emil on the left seem less weasel-y than the one on the right? “Can you bring my Winnie back? She quit, you know. Handed in her notice on the back of a receipt.”
“The entire bar knows,” Jude muttered under his breath. Mack threw him a warning glance.
Instead of answering him, Emil turned to Jude. “Any chance he’ll remember what I say in five minutes?”
“None whatsoever.”
“Hey,” Mack protested, but a burp escaped with the word. He clamped his lips shut. Jude, hisbest friend,had the temerity to roll his eyes, and the Emil on the right leaned in close and sniffed.
“You smell like you drank half the bar. You do know it’s only four o’clock, right?”
“I started early.”
“I live around the corner,” Jude told Emil. “I’ll put on a pot of coffee and we’ll sober him up enough to hear whatever it is you’ve got to say.”
“Thanks, Jude. I owe you.”
“You do. And I reserve the right to throw you out.”
“Fair enough.”
“No truces,” Mack insisted. When they ignored him, he started to make a stronger objection, but the world was spinning and he had to concentrate on taking deep breaths. Before he knew it, his arms were shrugged over two very uneven sets of shoulders and he was hauled from the bar.
He cursed the bright afternoon light stinging his eyes. Shouldn’t it be gray and rainy to mirror his inner turmoil? He made for a poor Shakespearean protagonist, that was certain. Or was he the antagonist? Macbeth probably hadn’t needed to debate his role in the gloomy moors of Scotland, the lucky bastard. He was still belaboring the merits of each role in silent debate when he crashed onto a bed. Darkness weighed down his eyelids, and he slipped eagerly into the fog where Winnie’s sad eyes couldn’t follow him.
He woke in the dark. Low voices murmured in the background. He lay on his stomach, one arm squished beneath his body. Drool soaked the sheet under his mouth. He rolled over, wincing at the pins and needles shooting down his arm as it returned to life. Waggling his fingers, he sat up slowly.
He studied Jude and Emil, who sat at a small table smoking a cigarette and sharing a bottle of whiskey. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say they looked like a pair of old friends having a catch up. What the hell?
“Macbeth lives,” Emil said, nodding toward him.
