“I’m always in a good mood.” Pan drops onto a stool and puts his chin in his hands. “Same way you’re always in a bad one.”
Now Treasure looks up. She scowls. Pan sticks out his tongue.
“How’s business?” I ask, to change the subject.
“Can’t complain. Patrons in here flashing cash for once.” She glances at Pan again. “I thought you were in debt.”
“Was,” Pan corrects. “Formerly. Just, you know…had some guys get lucky at one of my games, ran a little short of cash?—”
“He lost his shirt,” I cut in. “Literally.”
Pan scowls briefly. “Jacket,” he says. “Technically.”
Treasure cocks an eyebrow. “They took your jacket?”
“As opposed to what, my Rolex?” Pan throws his hands in the air. “Jeez, Trez,yes,they took mythousand-dollar leather jacket.But now I can get it back.” He grins. Shrugs in his fake-modest way. “Krye just paid me, so we’re all good.”
“Mhm.” Treasure looks unconvinced. “Be careful, Pan.”
“Why? I’m plenty careful!”
Treasure sighs. “You know why.” She shuffles her receipts together, taps them into a stack. “Just watch yourself as you go out causing trouble in the world, is all I’m saying.”
“Hey.” Fox barrels between us, interrupting like usual, pool cue in hand. “Anyone wanna play me? Ten bucks on the line,” he singsongs. When no one responds, he deflates, then amends. “Okay, twenty.”
“Treasure was saying something,” I point out.
“Oh.” Fox backs off a bit. Embarrassed. “Sorry.”
Ruby, setting down Pan’s glass, giggles. Down at the other end of the bar, I see Blue motion for Treasure, who gives him aone secfinger and then swings over.
“You want another, too, Tink?” Ruby’s friendly. Friendly, freckled—though those might be fake—and flirty.
Well, all the Mermaids are flirty. But still.
“Oh, uh.” I look down at my beer. Empty already. “Sure.”
“Coming right up!” Ruby sashays off, and as she does, Pan leans in.
“You like her?”
“What?” I almost fall off my barstool.
But if Pan notices I’m off?—
No. He doesn’t.
“Her.” He nods. “The brunette. Ruby.” His teeth gleam lilac in the blacklight, his face close to mine so I can hear. “Because I think she likes you.”
I shrug. All casual. One thing I’ve learned about living as a guy: don’t overreact. Underreact, if at all. “Eh,” I answer, figuring he’ll drop it.
He doesn’t. “No? You got your eye on someone else, then?”
No. No. No, I don’t.
I shake my head vigorously. “Huh-uh.”
“You never bring anyone back, is all I’m saying,” he goes on. “And now that I know you’reGod’s gift to women…”
