Page 123 of Living on the Edge

Since I can’t think of anything to say, I reach up and ring the bell, letting everyone know free drinks are forthcoming. There’s more cheering and I turn around, starting to make another round. Everyone is just getting what they already have—I don’t have the energy to start over.

Long Island Iced tea.

Three Budweisers in a bottle.

Two Aperol Spritzes.

A glass of chardonnay.

A glass of merlot.

Two splits of champagne.

Two Mai Tais.

A gimlet.

Two draft beers.

A handful of tequila shots.

And finally, for the old guy on the end, a porn star martini.

When I’m done, I ring it up and turn to Angus, who seems to be waiting patiently.

“That’s a hundred and seventeen,” I say as calmly as possible.

He hands me two hundred-dollar bills. “Keep the change.”

The idea of taking money from him grosses me out so I shake my head, get the change from the register, and put it on the bar in front of him.

He sighs but there’s a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

I don’t know what’s going on but I feel a little sick.

“Nothing for you?” I ask blandly.

“You know what I like.”

I turn, grab a bottle of Sam Adams Summer Lager out of the fridge, open it, and put it on the bar. I know he doesn’t want a glass.

“Seven,” I say.

He hands me a ten.

This time, I put the three dollars in change in the tip jar.

I’m proud but not stupid.

“Can we talk?” he asks after taking a pull.

“I’m working,” I reply.

“It took me a while to find you.”

“Maybe because I didn’t want to be found.”

He nods. “I know you’re upset with me but?—”

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