Page 12

“Yes, with the money, again. You two could contribute every once in a while. I know you’re not broke.”

They don’t respond to that.

Cheapskates.

I palm a couple of hundred-dollar bills and walk up to the bouncer with confidence. He glances at me and then over my shoulder at the two intimidating men behind me.

“I don’t want any trouble,” he mutters, and unhooks the velvet rope.

I grin widely, slipping the hundreds into my pocket.

“Scary dog privilege gets you pretty far in Garland Falls,” I comment.

Gabe snorts.

Marcus falls silent as we head inside. His jaw is tight. It isn’t exactly shoulder-to-shoulder, but it’s close. Gabe manages to find a table in the back that isn’t too near the speakers.

Marcus sits in the chair with its back to the wall.

We can sort of hear ourselves think, even though we still have to practically yell over the music.

“I think this is the worst place you’ve taken us yet,” Gabe says flatly.

Marcus nods.

I sigh. “My best friends have no taste.”

“I thought you were going to tell us about the wish you claimed,” Marcus finally speaks up, going quiet again as a cocktail waitress walks over.

“Hello, sweetheart,” I greet her, smiling. She barely looks at me, looking down at her server pad.

“What can I get ya?” She snaps her gum.

“Top-shelf Scotch. Neat.”

“Tequila and soda on the rocks,” Gabe answers.

A winemaker who only drinks tequila. Ironic.

“Just a beer for me,” Marcus mumbles.

Marcus’s order, on the other hand, is typical of a blue-collar worker like him. He works as a groundskeeper. Owns his own business but does most of his own work.

“Draft or bottle?”

“Draft.”

“Wheat or light?” she asks, and I can sense Marcus is about to lose it.

“Wheat will be fine,” I say, and hand her one of the hundreds from my pocket. “Keep the change.”

Her eyes widen and she looks up at me, a whole new smile on her face.

My own fades, slightly. Women who are interested in my money aren’t really my cup of tea.

“Thanks, mister.”

Mister.