“Apparently they’re the best west of Milwaukee.”
“According to the sign,” the bartender calls out. “Which I did not write and cannot verify.”
Bennett takes a cheese curd, chews thoughtfully, and nods. “These are actually exceptional.”
“Thank you!” The bartender throws his hands up. “Finally, someone with taste.”
Caleb and David arrive together ten minutes later. Caleb immediately pulls Serena into a kiss that makes Dominic groan, “Get a room, you animals,” while David hangs back, surveying the scene with visible confusion.
“OK.” He crosses his arms. “Someone explain why I left work early to attend a…” He glances at the neon sign. “A ‘cheese curd emergency’ at a bar I’ve never heard of.”
Dominic clears his throat, lifting a cheese curd as if for a toast. “Because, my dear David, you’re looking at the only people in Chicago who understand the importance of dairy-based critical situations. Also, we missed you.”
David’s clearly not buying it, but he takes a seat, politely accepting a beer from the next round the bartender brings. “Next time, maybe don’t be so dramatic. I thought something was on fire.”
“David, I would never summon you for anything less than a five-alarm social disaster,” Dominic says, leaning in with mock gravity. “Tonight’s topic: how to rescue innovation from mediocrity and avoid becoming corporate drones.”
Caleb raises his glass. “To innovation not requiring a suit and tie.” He’s already kicked back, elbow on the table, hand resting lightly on Serena’s knee.
“Is someone going to explain the real reason we’re all here when the sun is still up outside?” Bennett asks, gesturing to the grimy windows that lead to the street.
“To be fair,” Serena says, “this wasn’t planned. We all decided to play hooky for the afternoon and accidentally ended up at the same bar.”
“Accidentally.”
“It’s Dominic’s secret dive bar,” Layla explains. “Which he never told any of us about.”
“It wasn’t a secret. It just never came up.”
“You’ve been holding out on us for years,” Caleb says. “I’m genuinely offended.”
“You should be. These cheese curds are life-changing, and I’ve been selfishly hoarding them.” Dominic pushes a baskettoward David. “Eat. Drink. Stop looking at us like we’ve lost our minds.”
“You have lost your minds.” But David takes a cheese curd, anyway.
Two hours later, the awkwardness has dissolved into something almost comfortable.
It’s the whiskey, probably. We’ve gone through enough rounds that I’ve lost count, and even the rigid line of Audrey’s shoulders has started to soften. She’s laughing more now—real laughs, not polite ones—and at some point she ended up in a heated debate with Caleb about whether the legal system adequately protects intellectual property in biomedical research.
She’s winning. She’s always been good at arguing.
I’ve barely spoken. I’m better at listening, anyway. There’s something almost nice about being here, surrounded by people who know me—even if the one person I actually want to talk to is pretending I don’t exist.
“All right.” Dominic stands, slightly unsteady. “Logan. Pool. Rematch. I want to see this trajectory adjustment in action.”
I nod and follow him over to the billiards table. The laughter and voices recede a little, and I’m happy for the distance. Dominic racks, chalks his cue, and leans in close.
“You did good, Professor,” he says, voice low. “You showed up, you sat, you didn’t make it weird.”
“I think it was already weird.”
He shrugs. “That’s just our baseline. You handled yourself. Proud of you for that.”
I focus on the felt, the angle of the cue ball, the warp of the table. It’s easier than looking Dominic in the eye.
“How are you actually doing now she’s back?” he asks, half-mumbling it as he lines up his break.
“Fine.”
