Finn was pulling a beer, his back to me, but I could see the tension in his shoulders.
“Yeah.” Jacks hesitated. “Look, I don’t want to overstep, but . . . he knows you’re here. He’s been looking over here all night. I’m pretty sure wants to come talk to you, but we’ve been slammed.”
“Yeah, I noticed.”
“If you could just give him a little longer, he should be free enough to talk soon. The crowd’s thinning out.”
I looked at the bar, then at the clock. 8:47 p.m.
I had work tomorrow. Early meetings starting at eight.
I should go home, get a decent night’s sleep, prepare my notes.
But Finn knew I was here.
“Okay,” I said. “One more beer. I can wait.”
Jacks grinned. “That’s the spirit.”
By nine-thirty, the bar still hadn’t slowed down.
If anything, more people had arrived—a second wave, maybe people who’d heardabout the watch party and decided to show up late. The network was replaying that night’s episode all over again, and I watched the newcomers’ faces as they walked through the same emotional obstacle course the larger crowd had just experienced. While the noise level never again reached its peak from earlier, it had gone back up.
Finn was still behind the bar, still moving, still completely occupied.
I nursed my now-warm beer and tried to keep my eyes open.
I was so tired.
And it wasn’t the good kind of tired from a day well spent. Rather, it was the bone-deep weariness of too many late nights and too many early mornings and a schedule that never seemed to let up.
By ten o’clock, I was almost asleep at the table.
My head kept drooping forward.
I’d catch myself, jerk awake, and take a sip of beer, immediately regretting it.
The bar wasstillbusy.
A calendar reminder chimed on my phone, one I always set for the night before an early meeting. Yeah, I knew myself. I needed little reminders.
I also needed time to review my notes.
And more than anything, I needed to sleep.
Reluctantly, I pulled out my wallet and tossed twotwenties on the table, then rose and headed for the door.
Tampa was never quite cool, especially with summer’s humidity lingering like a cloak against my skin. I took a deep breath, letting it wake me up, and started walking toward the office where I’d parked my car to avoid the Ybor street parking clusterfuck.
I didn’t look back.
I was too tired for hope, too tired for anything except getting home, getting sleep, and getting up tomorrow to do it all over again.
I didn’t see Finn look up as I reached the door.
Didn’t see him freeze mid-pour, his eyes tracking me across the bar.
Didn’t see his face fall when I pushed open the door and disappeared into the Tampa night without looking back.
