Joey mumbled something unintelligible, and then there was the quiet shuffle of footsteps as he left. I didn't turn around. The moment felt too private, like something I wasn't supposed to hear. But I couldn’t unhear it now.
A moment later, the bartender came over. “What can I get you?”
Immediately after I placed my order, Tay appeared, peaking around a thick wooden post.
Seeing me, she frowned. “Don’t you dare tell a soul. As far as the rest of the bus knows, the transmission overheated all by itself.” She pointed at me with a fresh edge of exasperated humor. “So help me, Faraday, I will chase you down.”
I lifted my hands. “Not a word,” I promised. “Scout’s honor.”
I was a little surprised when she rounded the bar and dropped onto the stool next to mine. I mean, this was “Tay Time” after all.
“Can the bus be fixed?” I asked, carefully.
She was already shaking her head. “Needs an entirely new transmission. But the company’s sending a new one over from Albuquerque. It should be here by tomorrow night.”
I raised my eyebrows, impressed.
“Thankfully,” she added, “tomorrow’s itinerary is low-key. The scenic train ride to Silverton and back, plus downtown Durango. Most of it’s walkable.”
“Good thing,” I said, and then, noticing the tension in her mouth… “You okay?”
“Peachy,” she deadpanned. “Only spent the past two hours doing paperwork, submitting refund requests for the Mesa Verde tours, dealing with three different managers, and calming down Mr. Whitaker—Ed—who thought this meant he wasn’t going to get two full days’ gambling in Vegas.”
“But isn’t this their honeymoon?”
Tay rolled her eyes. “Apparently, the tour is a compromise. Eddie gets to see the Grand Canyon, Ed gets to play Blackjack.”
“I guess we all have our priorities,” I laughed.
“And mine right now is a stiff drink.”
Tay didn’t even have to summon the bartender. “You want the usual, Tay?” The woman behind the bar asked while setting a glass of Pinot Grigio in front of me.
“I need something stiffer than wine tonight, Kathy,” Tay said. “A martini? Dry, with two olives.”
“Put it on my tab.”
Tay blinked at me, visibly surprised. Then, with a tired smile, she nodded. “I won’t argue with that.” She let out a breath.
“So, I know this is your sacred alone time usually…” I took a sip from my glass, feeling more relaxed than I’d expected.
“As long as you don’t need me to track down the prescription you forgot to fill or take your clothes to a dry cleaner. Or expect me to refund you personally for the inconvenience of missing one of the scheduled stops…”
“No.” I laughed. “Someone really asked you to find a dry cleaner?”
“You’d be surprised.”
The bartender arrived with her martini, and Tay downed nearly a third of it in one gulp. A martini! Straight vodka.
“I’m getting too old for this,” she said.
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-three. Yeah, I know, I look older,” she tacked on without even looking at me.
But it was me shaking my head this time. “I didn’t say that.” When she eyed me doubtfully, I conceded, “You might look a little stressed.”
She took another drink, more of a sip this time. “I used to love it. When I first took this job. But…I don’t know.”
