Page 35 of Lying Hearts

Chapter Twenty

Brendan

Hand: closing the door to Le Barré. Eyes: adjusting to the light. Patience with Mark’s heartbreak: shot to shit.

Standing beside Mark just inside, we take it in. “Nice place. I like the décor. Simple, but enough.”

He looks around. “It’s got a fair share of people in here, too.”

“I bet the owner doesn’t think that. How many are you guessing?”

Mark does a quick head count. “Eighteen?”

I’m in marketing. Numbers are everything. And eighteen, even on a weeknight, isn’t enough to keep a new place afloat.

“He’ll need more than that if he wants to stay open.”

His tone is flat and distant. “You’re the expert.” I’ve lost him again.

Smacking him hard on the shoulder, I say, “You’re a bundle of joy to be around, you know that? You’re hurting my game with that face, by the way. You’re supposed to be my wing man!”

“The bar?”

What is up with this guy? He’s a shell of himself.

“Yeah, dufus. The bar. What… do you wanna cuddle up in a booth together? I could hold your hand.”

“Shut it.” He makes his feet move forward.

No fun will be had this night.

We each take a seat on the far side of the bar. I look around behind us. “There’s no art on the walls. How long they been open?” Mark shrugs.

A bartender walks up to us, looking scared… from me to Mark, then back to me. “You guys want a beer?”

Mark and I exchange a look. Mark nods and the guy races off to pour us a couple pints from the draft. No asking if we want bottles. No asking what kind of draft we want.

“What the hell?” I mutter sideways.

Mark just shrugs. “It’s a surprise.”

“Well, at least the glasses are frosted.” I watch the guy pour us Bass Ale. “And at least he has good taste.”

He returns and puts the chilled pints in front of us. He stares for a second and then just leaves. Something short of a chuckle breaks out of me and I pick up the beer. “I’ve never had a bartender not ask me what kind of beer I want before. But maybe that’s what they do here?”

Mark lifts his glass. “Part of their ‘thing,’ maybe. They guess for you.”

“Huh. I like it.” Mark drinks without a toast.

We stay quiet for a while and then I’ve had it. “Mark, Let it fucking go already! You’re making your grandchildren depressed. She’s a woman just like every other woman.”

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