Page 43 of Old Flames

“Why would I need to know that?” she asked. “What does it get me? A free beer?”

Even as she teased him, Jules looked past the various flags and banners suspended from the ceiling and all the other modern touches to admire the tall arched doors, exposed brick, and vintage wood bar.

He pocketed the phone. “Research.”

“You’re really going to set a book here, then?” she asked.

“I don’t think so, but I like to gather facts for later projects,” he said. “You never know.”

If Jules were inclined to write about her time here, it wouldn’t be about this historic bar or any other. It would be about her lived experience, either to make sense of it or trivialize it, so that it wouldn’t have a hold on her the rest of her life. No one would guess at the truth. It was too farfetched to be credible.

“Want to win a free beer?” he asked. “Let’s play a drinking game.”

“No, you’re sober.”

“We can remedy that.”

“Why? You don’t drink.”

He went still, but the bar was lively, and couples pushed past them to put in orders. By common accord they moved to a free table. “You order drinks, distribute them, but you don’t drink,” she said. “And you negotiate privately with the waiters to get mocktails. Blink if I’m right.”

He winked at her, his brown eyes fizzy with amusement.

“And you don’t smoke,” she added with a flourish.

“Well . . .” He reached for his gum, the familiar gesture. “Guess I really am a nerd.”

“That’s not it,” she said.

“My sobriety isn’t a big secret,” he said. “It’s new and I’m just getting used to it. I don’t bring it up, but if anyone asks, I tell them.”

She ignored that he’d avoided telling her just now. “Will you tell them why you’re sober?”

“No more than you’ll answer a direct question.”

“Fair enough.”

“You’re observant, July Jones,” he said. “But you’re not the only one. I see you.”

So, they were playing a game, only with no clear rules or guidelines to keep them safe. “Your turn.”

“You’re the dark side of the moon,” he said. “So much is left to the imagination. Does anyone know who you truly are? Does Vicky?”

“Of course,” Jules said. Her tone was clipped, even to her own ears. “She’s my closest friend.”

“But you hide things from her to make that friendship possible.”

“You don’t get to just make shit up, Leo. That’s not how the game is played.”

“I don’t have anything concrete to point to, like drinking or smoking. But you’re hiding something. You have been this whole time.”

She stirred uneasily and wished she could have that free beer now. “I don’t lie to Vicky, if that’s what you’re saying.”

“You don’t lie,” he said. “Except that one time when you claimed never to have been in love. That was a lie.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“You forget, I read your books. You know something about yearning, and something about loss.”