Page 24 of Tangling Hearts

Chapter Fifteen

Brendan

Finger: pointing to Knockout

“I’m going to talk to the guys here and see about getting them on board to help you.”

She looks at the neon sign hanging in the window that reads: NOPE.

“Does not bode well.”

I chuckle at the joke and give her hand a squeeze. “I’ve got your back. They’ll do it. I can be very persuasive.”

“Oh, I know. I got a great big dose of that when you talked me into letting you come clean up the bar, and look where that got you.”

“It got me here with you.” I hold her eyes for a second and she smiles. Suddenly, I remember an idea I had. “Oh - I thought of something, too. Take the charge out of what happened to the bar by naming drinks after it. What about The Gunshot?”

Annie’s face squishes up, but then she thinks about it and her face changes completely. “You know what? That’s genius.”

“And one called The Krav Maga… and… what else?”

Our hands swing as we walk. She’s staring ahead, fishing through her idea-maker for more. Her eyes light up. “How about Broken Glass? It could be a clear vodka/soda in a martini glass with crushed ice!”

I cock my head to the side, impressed. “I forgot you’re a mixologist.”

Puffing out her chest, she grins. “One of the best.”

“Ha! Okay, Boozy, what would The Krav Maga be?”

Without even pausing, she pulls out the recipe: “Bookers Bourbon, rocks. It’s 126 proof, so it knocks you on your ass. The ice is to help the bruising go down.” She smirks up at me. “What do you think?”

“Holy shit.”

Her comical cockiness vanishes into sweetness. “You really like it?”

I make a noise through my teeth, and nod. “The Gunshot?”

She nibbles her lip, looking at the sidewalk ahead of us. After about five or six steps, she frowns. “I don’t know about that one.”

“C’mon, Freckles, you can do it.”

She exhales and concentrates for the length of four shop-fronts, but finally shakes her head. “I’m stumped. You give it a shot.”

“Pun intended?” She rolls her eyes, but there’s an unguarded, wounded or scared look behind them that wasn’t there before. She’s such a strong, funny woman, it’s disarming to see her with that look in her eyes. It brings out the protector in me, big time. “It must have been pretty hard seeing me all bloody like that, huh?” She nods, frowning at the memory. “Hey, that’s why we do it, Annie. These drinks will be your biggest sellers because everyone will know that you took the memory of something bad and made it into something good.”

She nods. “I understand the concept, and I love it.” She looks down the way people do when they’re sharing something really personal. “I’ve even used it to get through some of my own things… but this one’s harder somehow. The Gunshot.” A shiver runs through her and she looks to me, hoping I’ll understand.”

I think about it for two whole seconds before I realize the way to help her is to do what she would do; she would make me laugh by throwing some curveball my way. So I give it my best shot. “Okay. How about a White Russian with grenadine and a cherry poured through the cream so it coagulates and looks like blood?”

She makes a face like she just smelled something awful and bursts out laughing. “Okay, that’s disgusting.”

“Says the girl who has a Mayan skull on her couch. And look at you, laughing at the disgusting drink. You’re sick and twisted, Freckles. Sick and twisted!”

Still laughing, she points a finger at me. “You’re the one who said it!”

I shrug, looking ahead like I don’t hear her. “The movie today?”

“Uh-huh?”

“Let’s do an action film. My staples are going to explode if we go see a comedy. You make me laugh too much as it is.”

“There can never be too much laughter. But I agree. No comedies.” As we walk up to Philz entrance, she says, with conviction, “And we’ve had enough drama.”

I step ahead, open the door. “Action then?”

She gives me a little bow. “Done!”

---