“Hey,” Curtis said. “You look amazing.”
Sal looked down to make sure they hadn’t accidentally worn the dress.
“Don’t start that,” he laughed. “You know I think you’re stunning.”
Sal wanted to say something funny, or perhaps dissolve, but Curtis was already in front of them, bending down and kissing their cheek. Sparks shot across their face and down their back, and speaking became impossible.
“Let’s go inside,” he said, taking Sal’s hand. The bar was cuter than they expected, dark with low tables and blue velvet booths. The kind of place that could have been a burlesque theatre in another life. A dude in a bow tie directed them to a candlelit corner and brought them menus.
“You like old fashioneds?” Curtis asked.
Sal loved old fashioneds, but it felt too simpy to justagree,especially when the candle glow made Curtis look even more chiselled and irritatingly sexy. “They’re alright. I might have a beer, though.”
Curtis gave every appearance of not giving a damn. “Sure. Whatever you like.”
The waiter returned, and Sal chose the first beer they spotted on the menu—a chocolate stout from Norway.
“Heavy hitter,” he said when the waiter left.
“Come again?”
“The beer. It’s eight percent.”
“Shit.” Sal had intended to pace themself, not get too wasted and make even more Curtis-related mistakes. “Is that a lot?”
He consulted the menu. “It’s a five hundred mil bottle. About four and a half standard drinks, I’d reckon.”
“Jesus! I just saw the word chocolate and assumed it was soft. Why don’t I read things?”
Curtis laughed. “The devil shouldn’t DJ.”
“What?”
“The devil shouldn’t DJ,” he repeated, as though Sal was missing an obvious point.
“I heard you, I just… have no fucking idea what you’re talking about?”
“It’s when, like… you think something’s easy, but only because you didn’t look closely?”
Recognition dawned on Sal. “Do you mean, ‘the devil’s in the details?’”
Curtis beamed. “Yeah. That.”
Sal envisioned Byron’s expression if he ever heard Curtis’ devil-DJing metaphor. From his texts, they’d gotten the impression that the dude was kind of a himbo, but hearing him goof expressions in real time was something else.
“Sorry.” Curtis flashed a rueful smile. “I get stuff like that mixed up all the time.”
“It’s fine.”
“Nah, it must seem pretty stupid, hey? Especially since you’re a teacher.”
Sal felt a wave of affection for the man. “Teaching assistant. So, you got that hot dumb guy brain?”
“Probably. Didn’t do great at school.”
“Who cares?”
He made a face. “People. You, obviously. From the look you gave me when I said… I can’t even remember what I said. Something about the devil.”
