"I worked a double two days ago. Devon's grandmother's cat."
"I have no idea what that means."
"Neither does Devon's grandmother. There's no cat. He wanted the night off."
Heath laughed. "Why'd you cover?"
"Money never hurts."
Kieran picked up his Paloma. He took a sip, set it back down on the coaster, and aligned the glass with the corner of the coaster without appearing to notice he was doing it.
"This is good," he said.
"Thanks."
"What'd you put in it?"
"Tequila, fresh grapefruit, lime, and a splash of soda. I would have added salt on the rim if you wanted it. You didn't."
He nodded
Heath leaned both forearms on the rail while I started cutting more limes.
“We were going to ask Pratt to come with,” he said, and the floor of the conversation tilted a quarter inch. “But he got waylaid by reporters after morning skate.”
One of the TVs over the bar cut from a muted highlights loop to a practice clip. A title slid in under it—IRONHAWKS STAR GOALTENDER, BROCK PRATT.
Pratt stood in front of a locker room backdrop, hair still damp, wearing a t-shirt darkened through at the collar.
“Brock, what are you focusing on heading into this next stretch?”
He didn’t look past the reporter.
“Execution,” he said. “We’re managing the details.”
Another voice, off-camera. “Anything you’re adjusting personally?”
“I prepare with the team.”
That was it.
The clip cut before the next question finished, back to a panel talking over the transition as if the interview hadn’t mattered.
I was holding a lime in my hand. I'd squeezed it too hard, and juice had run across my fingers.
"Tell him I said hey when you see him next," I said to Heath and Kieran. "If you see him before I do."
Heath looked at me. He blinked, just once, and then sipped his beer. "Yeah, I will."
The conversation continued to other topics. Heath talked about a new shawarma place near the practice facility. Kieranasked me where I'd learned to bartend. I gave him the short version—desperate to move out of Boston, and I made it as far as Providence.
A ticket printed. I turned to handle it.
When I came back, Heath asked, "How late do you work tonight?"
"I'm out at ten."
"Some night if you're free, you should come with us for laser tag."
