Sebastian:I can’t believe you flaked out.
Hunter:The whole point of donating large sums of money to these things is tonothave to attend the charity party.
Hunter:I’m shocked you’ve managed to survive in this town as long as you have. You’re like a baby duckling swimming in these small-town busybody-infested waters.
“Wowza, did someone order a stripper?” Ida whooped as I headed over to the bar. “Look at that hot young thing.”
I grimaced.
“Now, don’t look so scared, boyo,” Ida said, patting my arm. “You’re too young for me. I like my men well-seasoned.”
“What’ll ya have?” the bartender asked.
“The strongest thing you’re offering.”
The bartender ignored the fancy bottles of liquor out on the counter and fished around underneath his station.
“Nothing like a weeknight party, eh?” Dottie said, coming up on the other side of me. “It’s about to get lit!”
The bartender reappeared with a beat-up red thermos.
“I’m not sure if I want that,” I said, raising a hand.
He ignored me and poured a toxic-smelling liquid into a cup.
“I made this myself with my grandfather,” he said proudly. “Distilled from Harrogate’s finest potatoes.”
I sniffed it. It smelled like lighter fluid.
It didn’t taste much better either.
Ida patted me on the back as I doubled over, coughing, while the moonshine burned down my esophagus.
“Pour him a vodka soda,” she instructed the bartender.
“That shouldn’t be legal to give out to people,” I gasped.
“Oh, Sebastian.”
“Amy,” I wheezed, tears streaming down my face. “I think I’m dying.”
The florist stuffed a crab dumpling into my mouth.
“Eat that,” she ordered and took the drink out of my hand.
“You can’t go giving that to just anyone, Sean,” she scolded the bartender.
“He said he wanted strong,” the bartender said with a shrug, “so I gave him strong. What can I do? Now someone needs to drink that. Sweat, blood, and tears went into that liquor.”
Amy rolled her eyes then downed the entire glass.
“Hmm,” she said while I slowly chewed the crab dumpling. “A very nice vintage.”
“I aged it in a charred oak barrel I made from that tree that fell on Mrs. Levenston’s back porch,” the bartender said proudly.
“Very nice. Smooth.”
“Are you people insane?” I practically shouted.
