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She gave me a small smirk. “Where’s the car?”
“Mile marker fourteen,” Grant said from beside the pool table. He raised a hand and circled his finger behind him. “On that dark as hell road that turns into town.”
Her gaze moved to him. “Make and model?”
“Lexus LS.”
She let out a short grunt. “Keys?”
“We can give Jim the keys when he comes by,” I said.
She looked up. “Oh, um…well, Jim’s not coming by. Because see…his truck is too wide for the narrow streets down here. But,” she smiled, “another round of drinks will buy you key delivery service out to Jim and Patrice’s house.”
“Who will deliver the keys?”
“Who?”
“Yes, who runs this key delivery service?”
“Hmm, well, Ernest…next door is about to close up his shop and he lives up the road from them.”
“Ernest?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“What’s his last name?”
She paused a beat, her eyes sliding to the side. “Ernest…Buffalobeam.”
“Ernest Buffalobeam?” I looked off behind me at the bourbon barrel tops decorating the walls, sporting logos such as Buffalo Trace and Jim Beam.
“And what business does this Ernest Buffalobeam run next door, exactly?”
“He sells…” Her eyes slid behind us again, darting to the ceiling and then back to me. “Lights.”
“Lights. Really? Ernest Buffalobeam sells lights next door?”
“Everyone needs lights,” she said, pressing her lips together. “They help us see in the dark.”
“Brilliant.” We held eye contact for a beat, then two, both our eyes narrowing slightly as we tried not to smile. I would have bet anything that Jim’s truck fit just fine down these streets and she was just trying to milk me for another round of drinks. “Trent, hand the keys over to the lady,” I said.
“What if this Ernest Buffalobeam never comes back?” Trent asked skeptically.
“Where’s he gonna go with a car with only three working tires?” Aidan asked.
“He might steal our stuff,” Trent said. He leaned toward Aidan and “whispered,” “We left all our bags in it.”
“Listen, Ernest is full up on Polo shirts and Calvin Klein boxer briefs, and he’s no thief.”
I let out a low whistle. “That’s pretty judgmental, Cakes,” I said.
“How’d she know what I packed?” Trent “whispered” again to which Aidan shoved him in the arm. “Ouch,” Trent murmured before taking his keys from his pocket and handing them to the server.
She turned away and shouted to the bar at large, “Who wants another round?” to which a loud cheer went up.
We played a game of pool and drank the drinks that had been delivered to us as part of the round I’d paid for and then she came back with our food. “Jim just called and said he’s got your car and is delivering it to the repair shop. I’m sure they’ll fit you in in the morning. Another round?”
“Why not?” Aidan said. “We’re not driving!”
