Luke leans into his elbows like he’s taking a quick breather to say, hey. “Dude, that chick is back,” he says. We haven’t discussed this situation, but we’ve seen our share of weird goings on in this bar. It’s just not usually a pretty, young woman.
“Hmm that’s odd,” I tell him.
“There’s something about her,” Luke continues.
“Like what? She looks pissed off. I don’t think that’s weird.”
“No, there’s something more ... something dark brewing in those blue eyes and I’m determined to find out what that is.”
I lightly slap my hand against Luke’s cheek. “Don’t go fallin’ in love with her. Annabelle may not be pleased when you get home.”
“Thanks for the advice,” Luke says with a roll of his eyes. He pushes off the bar top and opens the swinging door behind him. “A bison burger, no cheese, no onions, medium well,” he yells back there.
“Hey, Chance!” I hear from the kitchen. Freddy runs the grill and knows I’m here by the sound of my order.
“That doesn’t sound appetizing,” Snow White peeps up from the corner of the bar.
“Excuse me?”I reply.
“No cheese and medium well?”
“I like my burger dry. You got a problem with that?”
“If you like hard, dry burgers, that’s your deal, not mine.”
“Well, it seems like you’re making it your deal now.”
“Pretend I didn’t say anything,” she says.
“Will do,” I tell her, with a quick nod of my head.
“Dude, don’t piss the chick off. I told you, there’s darkness in those eyes,” Luke mutters in my direction.
I shoo him off and take my phone out of my pocket to catch up on social media. Lord only knows what I’ve missed in Facebookland.
Just as I get the app open, a bottle of Ketchup lands in my lap after skidding down the bar like it’s a runway.
“What in the—” I snap. “Did you just throw me a bottle of Ketchup?”
“I can’t sit near you, knowing you’re eating a dry burger without cheese. For the love of food, at least put some ketchup on that thing.”
“Thanks, darlin’, but I’ll survive without the condiments.” Snow White snarls at me like I just ate a toenail, and it’s mildly entertaining.
As if a channel switched in her head, August breaks eye contact and directs her attention to her oversized bag, yanking out a notebook and a pen.
“Darkness,” Luke hums.
I’m not sure I’d call a scene with a girl writing in a notebook, darkness, but it’s a bit odd for this place.
By time my burger ready, August is in the zone and pays no attention to my hard, dry burger. Luke places a Bud Light in front of me and a set of silverware. “Bon Appetit, dude.”
“Excuse me,” August calls out. She’s calling for Luke this time. “May I have another drink? Something different, but still whiskey.”
“You’ve already had two. Are you driving anywhere tonight?” Luke asks her.
“How is that any of your business?” she replies.
“The safety of my patrons is my business, miss.”
