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Badger snorts. “Must’ve been quite a rush. You floated two kegs.”
I nod. “And me without a barback. You ought to give me a raise.”
Badger snorts again. “It ain’t like you got much need for money. It probably don’t cost a dollar a day to feed a mite like yourself.”
“It might surprise you. I once won a pie-eating contest.” It’s a lie, but I like poking him.
He shoves fistfuls of bills into his lock bag and shuts the register. “I guess you better close since there’s nobody else here.”
“All right.”
He glances down the bar and sees Gabe. “Wasn’t he sitting there earlier?”
I shrug. “Yeah.” Best to say as little as possible about that.
Badger gives Gabe a good stare-down, then retreats to his office.
I slide down the bar to Gabe. “Sorry I’m stuck. You going to head to the hotel?”
“Nah. I’m happy to wait as long as it’s okay that I’m here.”
My belly warms over. He has to be dead exhausted, but he wants to stay with me.
When we finally head to the hotel, I think I’m too tired for us to do much. Gabe has to be, too. He did a heap of traveling today.
But once we’re locked in the room by ourselves, we find the energy.
It may have been only two days apart, but it was actually two goodbyes ago.
And we’re more than ready to say hello.
Chapter 30
GABE
Tillie drives us downtown the next morning. The coffee shop is on a street of businesses meant to cater to office workers. But this is a weekend.
Still, there are young couples in athletic wear walking their dogs. Shoppers peer in storefront windows.
And there’s definitely a bustling interest in coffee.
The coffee shop we’ve seen in Anita’s pictures has an outdoor space in front, surrounded by a metal fence to keep passersby from weaving through the tables.
It takes a couple of circles around several blocks before we find a parking spot.
“Do you have a strategy?” Tillie asks as we head up the sidewalk. “Like maybe sitting inside near the window so you can watch both areas? Or hide behind a newspaper?” She bumps her elbow into mine with a grin. “Or I have these.”
She pulls a set of fake eyeglasses with a nose and mustache from her purse. “Put this on.”
Even with the stress I’m under, the sight of the old-fashioned disguise makes me laugh.
“I can’t believe you got this.” I stick it on my face as we walk, getting a good titter out of two kids following their harried mother.
But the family reminds me of what we’re doing, and I pull them off. “Thanks for lightening the mood.”
She tucks the glasses back in her bag. “I have crosswords, silly magazines, a book of dad jokes, and a horror novel queued up on my library account. If you’re not up for laughter, we can do a read-aloud of the scariest scenes and terrify our table neighbors.”
“You really planned for this.”
