I turned my head to the side and coughed into my elbow, desperate to find my cool again. “I’m good.” If I didn’t acknowledge how hard I was wheezing, maybe he wouldn’t either.
“How are you getting home?” he asked in a carefully neutral tone.
Assuming he meant because of the multiple shots we’d taken in a very short amount of time, I waved him off. “I’m walking.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“It’s literally down the block.”
“I remember where you live, Ada. But it’s after three in the morning.”
“It’s fine. I’m good.”
“I know you’re good. I’m still going to walk with you.”
“How are you getting home, Charlie?”
“I’m fine.”
“Okay, so now that we can agree we’re both fine, let’s call it good and say good night.”
He corked the whiskey bottle and slid it under the counter. It wasn’t one we usually left out for customer selection. It belonged to a very rare and expensive collection that I believe was Will’s.
“Are you ever going to stop telling me what to do?” he asked, but there was a sudden edge to his voice, a bitterness I usually fostered. Because angry, pissed-off Charlie was a whole lot easier to deal with than sweet, charming Charlie.
“Probably not. Sorry, it’s just not who I am.” I walked over to the switch near the front doors and clicked off the specialty lights, leaving us bathed in moonlight and exit lights.
I should have known how dark the space would be with the lights off. But somehow with just Charlie here, it seemed, uh, darker.
Maybe it was the whiskey.
I bumped into two separate tables trying to find the kitchen again. The chairs that had been piled on top rattled precariously. I paused to steady them, then kept moving and bumped into another table.
“You all right there, Kelly?”
“Mmm.”
He was there suddenly, reaching out his hand to me. “Let me help.”
“It’s really dark.” I put my hand in his so I didn’t somehow knock all of the tables and chairs over like a giant-size set of dominos.
He glanced out the full windows at the front of the bar. “I think there’s a full moon tonight.”
“Aha,” I gloated. “Just as I suspected.”
“How drunk did you get?” he asked with a laugh.
“I think I forgot to eat tonight. We got so busy. And.”
We stepped into the kitchen. Which was even darker. “And?”
“Hmm?”
“You said and. I thought you were going to say why you didn’t eat.”
“Oh, I just, uh, that was all. I forgot to eat supper.” Why was I so flustered? Yes, I was tipsier than I should be right now. Or maybe I was hunger deprived. Or perhaps Charlie and I hadn’t been alone in the bar together since, uh, well, since before.But for fuck’s sake, Ada, pull yourself together.
"That was a mistake, Ade," he said in low tones of disapproval. “If you faint from hunger, you’re not going to be much use to us.”
