An agro-tourism conference in Denver called Hugo away for a week, and he's been busy at the mill. This is the first time I've seen him since I told Daisy the truth.
He's already here, sitting up at the long bar, a draft beer sweating on a coaster in front of him.
"What's good, buddy?" I say, smacking Hugo lightly on the back. I pull out a leather topped stool and settle in beside him. "Cool place. Great ambiance."
It's a chill place with TVs everywhere, the walls decorated with signed framed jerseys of various sports teams, and pennants on the wall. The bar top is reclaimed wood, bearing scratches and grooves and covered by epoxy.
Hugo eyes me suspiciously. "Why do you sound jovial?"
I point at my chest. "Me?"
His eyes narrow further. "Yes. You."
I thank the bartender with a lift of my chin when he delivers a bowl of honey mustard pretzels, and the same beer Hugo'sdrinking. "Hugo, my friend, I am on the other side of my lie. I think that deserves some jovialness." I frown at the word that is most definitely not a word. "Joviality? I don't know. Words aren't my thing. The point is, I get to be around Daisy as myself." The relief has grown exponentially since the moment I told her. I feel like one of those classic movies where a woman sings on a prairie, never losing the smile plastered to her face.
Except for theteeny tinylittle fact Daisy is marrying Duke. While I'm sublimely happy Daisy knows the truth, there's a katana swiping at my heart no matter how relieved I am.
Hugo side-eyes me as he drinks. "Well," he says, setting his beer down. "You're still alive, so that's saying something. Daisy didn't kill you when you came clean."
I hold my hands out in front of me likeI know, right?
Hugo laughs. "She called me a dirty liar."
"You are."
Hugo mimes stabbing me with what I assume is a sword. "You're such a dick, Penn."
"Little too much affection in that tone of voice for me to take you seriously, buddy."
"Hugo!" A man's voice carries across the place.
I swivel on my seat, watching three men approach.
"Hugo, you better tell me right fucking now that this is a mirage."
"No can-do. How was I supposed to get you to join guy's night?"
"With Duke The Twat?" I say, doing my best not to stare down Daisy's fiancé.
"I thought he was Duke the Wet Paper Towel?" Hugo says under his breath, standing up to greet the men.
"Guys," Hugo says, shaking hands. "Elijah, Chris, this is my friend, Peter."
"Nice to see you again, Peter," Duke interrupts.
I ignore him, focusing on Elijah and Chris. "My name is actually Penn. Hugo here"—I clap him on the back—"calls me Peter sometimes. Inside joke."
Duke stares me down. Hugo does his best not to gape.
Now that Daisy knows my true identity, there's no reason everybody else shouldn't know also.
"Why don't you guys grab that big booth in the back corner?" Duke says, gesturing out into the place. "Penn and I will bring over a round."
Hugo glances reluctantly between me and Duke, but doesn't put up a fight. He grabs our half-empty beers, leaves our bowl of pretzels, and leads Elijah and Chris to the big booth.
Duke steps up to the bar, and I step up beside him. "If you wanted to get me alone so you could apologize, let me tell you in advance, I accept."
"Shut the fuck up," Duke hisses. "I don't know what the fuck it is you think you're doing, going by your real name, but it doesn't go any further than right here." He points a finger at the floor of Hen Pecked. "You are notback,Penn. You have not returned with the intention to stay. Quit telling people the truth when you know you're moving on anyway. It's bad enough you told Daisy, don't go making it worse by telling the rest of the town."
