Page 66 of Play Dirty

“Come,” Augustine says. “Sit.” She waves a hand to Alexander’s booth. My booth. You can’t see outside because of the shutters, but I know… I know people are looking at this place right now, asking themselves, Is it open again?

I walk over to Alexander and slide into the booth opposite him.

He stands, waits for Augustine to get in the booth, then sits again.

I let out a long breath as we stare at each other.

“This is it, huh?” Augustine asks.

I nod. “Sorta.”

“What do you want to do with it?” Alexander asks.

“What do you mean? I want to fucking open it back up.”

“Just like this?”Augustine asks.

“Yeah. Just like this.”

“Why?” Alexander asks.

“Because I miss it. We all miss it.”

“Who’s we?” Alexander asks.

“Me.” I laugh. “Everyone who used to be a member.”

“OK,” Augustine says.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask.

“We want to understand,” Alexander says.

“We want to know why it’s so important to you,” Augustine adds.

I shrug. “It’s just a place where I can… be me.”

“You can be you lots of places,” Augustine says.

“Not really,” I say, wishing this was all real and not some fake setup to trap me in this game they’re playing. I get up and go over to the bar without saying anything, grab a highball glass off the shelf, and take down the bottle of Hennessy.

“When did you clean it all up?” I ask, pouring my drink.

“Been working on it for the last few weeks,” Augustine says.

I turn to face them, walk round to the other side of the bar, then lean back on it as I sip my drink. “I broke in here about two months ago and it was a fucking mess.”

“Yes, we know,” Alexander says, standing up, then offering his hand to Augustine. “That’s how we knew you were ready.” He holds her hand as he leads her over to me. Places her on my left, then goes behind the bar and, as I tilt my body towards Augustine, I see him reach for two more glasses and pour each of them their own Hennessy.

“Ready?” I laugh. “For what?”

“For us,” Augustine says.

“I’m ready for all this to go back to the way it was,” I say.

Alexander returns to stand in between us, hands his wife her drink, then raises his glass. “To the way it was,” he says, making a toast.

Augustine clinks his glass, but I don’t. I just drink down my cognac.