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“Thanks, but it wouldn’t last long. I’m hard on clothes.”
“Your coat’s kind of fucked up.”
“You noticed.”
She says, “What are you going to do with it?”
“I don’t know. Throw it away, I guess.”
“Do you think I could . . .”
I squint at her.
“You want my coat too?”
She digs at the floor with the toe of one boot.
“If you’re just going to throw it away . . .”
Over my shoulder Carlos says, “Christ, Stark. Give her the damn coat. At least you’ll be somebody’s hero tonight.”
I look at him, then back to Fuck Hollywood. After a minute, I put the na’at, black blade, Maledictions, and my lighter on the bar. It hurts to get the coat off and Fuck Hollywood reaches out to help me do it. When it’s off, she immediately puts it on. She’s not very big. It hangs off her like a potato sack.
“How do I look?” she says.
“You’re monster movie Miss America,” says Carlos, and Fuck Hollywood beams at me.
“Thank you so much.”
I lean on the bar.
“It’s fine. It’s junk. But if it shows up on eBay we’re going to have words.”
“Never. I promise.”
I nod and she half runs out of the place like maybe I’m going to change my mind and ask for the coat back.
“You made someone’s night,” says Carlos.
I hold up my bourbon.
“And you made mine.”
“Tell me you’re going home after this. You don’t have a date or something stupid like that.”
“That reminds me.”
I check my phone and Janet has returned my call. They want to come over to show me something. I look at myself in the mirror behind the bar as I call them back.
“That might not be a good idea tonight. How about tomorrow?”
They hesitate.
“I can’t. I have a late class.”
There’s something in their voice. Strange micro-tremors. I can’t always tell on the phone, but I think they’re lying.
I say, “Okay. How about the night after that?”
