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?—”
