"I love you," she says against my mouth.
"I love you."
"Say it again."
"No."
She nips at my lips. "Say it again, Teague."
"I love you. Now get back on your stool. I have a bar to run."
She grins. She goes back to her stool. She picks up her mule and drinks and the bar keeps going because the bar always keeps going, that's what bars do, they hold the night together and give people a place to sit and I'm going to own this one. The contract is in the drawer and the number is in the account and Anthem is going to be mine the way the jacket is mine and the apartment is mine and the woman on the stool is mine. On purpose. All of it.
The playlist shuffles. Against Me! comes on. "Don't Lose Touch." The song Zoe found on her own before I ever played it for her, the song that meant something to me in a way I couldn't explain and that she found independently because shefinds everything independently, without waiting for permission, without asking if the door is open.
Zoe hears the first three notes and looks at me across the bar. I look at her. The song plays and the neon flickers and Jeff finishes his PBR and the college kids finally clear the table and the night goes on.
My phone buzzes in my back pocket. I pull it out expecting Britt or a delivery confirmation or nothing important.
Carl.
I step to the end of the bar, away from the noise, and answer.
"Teague." His voice is the same as always, unhurried, the voice of a man who pours slowly even when the bar is full. "How's my place?"
"Your place is fine."
"That's what you always say." He pauses. I can hear something in the background, a television, his sister's house. "Listen. I'm not coming back in June. I'm not coming back."
I don't say anything. My hand tightens on the phone.
"My sister needs me here longer than I thought, and the truth is I don't miss it. I thought I would. I built that bar from a lease and a loan and I thought leaving it would eat me alive, but it didn't. You know why?"
I have no idea, but my heart won't stop pounding. "Why?"
"Because you're there. You've been running it better than I did for the last two years and we both know it. The playlist alone." He laughs, short. "So here's what I'm saying. Thecontract's in the drawer. The number hasn't changed. If you want Anthem, it's yours. I'll have my lawyer call Monday."
The bar is behind me. The neon is cycling. Zoe is on her stool. "Don't Lose Touch" is playing through the speakers and the bass line is steady and the room is full of people I serve and the walls are holding everything together, same as they always have.
"I want it," I say, surprised at just how steady my voice is.
"I know you do. You've wanted it since you walked in the door. I could see it." Another pause. "Take care of the place, Teague."
"I will."
"And the Clash poster stays."
"Always."
He hangs up. I stand at the end of the bar with my phone in my hand and the contract is in the drawer and the lawyer is calling Monday and Anthem is mine.
I walk back to Zoe. She's watching me. She's always watching me, reading my face, tracking the edits I make in real time. She sees something now. I don't know what my face is doing but she sits up straighter on her stool.
"What happened?"
"Carl called."
"And?"
