Page 35 of Forfeits

“Have you asked her?”

“I keep forgetting. I doubt she’d care. I think she’s just glad he’s out on his own and doing well.”

“That’s good.”

One of the other molly boys approached our table.

“Hello, gentlemen. I can’t help but notice that neither of you have drinks. Can I get you something?”

“Oh, shit, I keep forgetting to look at the list. Is there a drink you’d recommend?” I asked the petite peroxide blond, who was wearing a little bit of rouge on his cheeks and vibrant red lipstick.

He cocked his head. “Well, that depends. Are you looking to get hammered or simply to chill out?”

I glanced at Aiden.

“Oh, I think chill out,” he said.

“Definitely,” I agreed.

“All right, then. My name’s Cory, by the way. Robin got busy and asked me to stop by your table.”

“Well, thank you very much, Cory.”

“So, if you want something traditional, you could get a whiskey sour. Or if you want to be adventurous, you should try the Sazerac.”

“Oh, what’s in that?” Aiden asked, leaning forward.

Cory grinned. “It’s very nice—rye whiskey, bitters and a dash of absinthe.”

“Sold,” Aiden said, then turned to me. “Fletcher? What’s your poison?”

“I’ll stick with the whiskey sour.”

“Great,” Cory said. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

Cory took our requests to the gentleman at the bar as another man in period clothing—Sebastian, I think, whom I’d met previously—came into the room and proceeded to the piano. His naturally blond hair fell to his shoulders in soft waves, and he was wearing a cute boater hat on the top of his head. He picked up a microphone from where it rested on the piano and tapped it to get everyone’s attention.

“Hello, everyone! Welcome to Maverick Molly’s on this chilly November evening. Is everyone feeling toasty and warm now that they’re here?”

The men at the nearby tables uttered various affirmatives.

“Excellent.” He turned to one of the tables. “Mr. Anderson, I hope you’re winning for once.”

“He’s not!” a man at the same table yelled out.

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Sebastian said “Well, to soothe your spirits, I’ll have one of our entertainers up here to perform for you.”

The room filled with hoots and hollers.

“Robin, are you free?” Sebastian asked the young man who had returned.

“Oh no, sir. I fetch a very high fee, don’t you know,” Robin said with a comical lilt.

Sebastian clicked his tongue. The men laughed.

“You’re worth it!” one yelled.

“Awe, shucks,” Robin said. “What would you boys like me to do tonight?” he asked, then held up his hand. “No rude remarks. I mean, a dance, a song or some racy poems.”

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