Page 24 of Jilted

“They’d be idiots not to do it,” Dad noted.

“Thank you. That’s very kind.”

“What can I get you to drink?” Dad asked. “It’s on the house.”

“I’ll just take a beer,” Wilder said. “A stout on tap, if you have it.”

I needed a minute to let everything sink in. “Excuse me. I need to put these glasses away.”

I walked to the middle of the bar and worked on hanging the glasses from the overhead gantry. But every few seconds, my gaze wandered back to Wilder. He was famous? A rugby player? David Beckham? Most perplexing of all, my dad had offered him afree beer. Whenever anyone who wasn’t a member of the NYPD or FDNY wandered in, he charged them double to discourage hanging around.Nocivilian got free drinks from Dad.

I finished hanging the glasses just as Dad finished pouring Wilder’s beer. His hand shook a lot more when he was tired, and I watched Wilder hone in on it. Unlike the guy earlier, Wilder’s eyes softened, and he smiled.Damn it. I don’t want to find things to like about you.

Dad walked over. “I need to hit the head. Be back.”

“Okay.”

I checked in with a few patrons to see if they needed refills, then walked down to Wilder. “So what are you really doing here?” I asked. “You didn’t just wander in for a beer. There’s probably a thousand places to get something to drink between here and the office, most of them with friendlier people and glasses without dishwasher spots.”

“You said this place was a legend in New York—third-oldest bar, was it?”

“Are you sure it’s not because I turned you down and you can’t handle that? You seem like the type who always gets his way and might not take it so well when he doesn’t.”

“I do like to get what I want. But I’m willing to work for it.”

I shook my head and sighed. “So you’re famous, huh? How come you didn’t mention that little fact?”

Wilder shrugged. “Was hoping you’d like me for my personality.”

“Your personality?” I laughed. “Really?”

He grinned. “I’m not that bad.”

Dad ambled back from the restroom. I nodded toward him. “I should go. He’s been here all day, and if he thinks I’m busy talking to you, he’ll never leave, and he needs his rest.”

“Okay.”

Before I could walk away, Dad was at my side. “Why don’t you go have your dinner break now?”

“I’m fine. I’ll eat when I get home.”

“Order something and sit and eat. Or I’m not leaving. I don’t want your blood sugar going low when I’m gone.”

I frowned. “How about we compromise? I promise to order something that I’ll eat when it’s slow, and you go home now and get off your feet. Also, you take an Uber, not the subway.”

“I’m fine.”

“Dad…”

Wilder butted in. “I didn’t eat yet, either. I noticed an Italian place a few doors down. How about I run over and grab something for us both? I’ll be quicker than delivery.”

I saidnoat the same time my dad saidgreat.

Wilder knocked back the rest of his beer and stood. He lifted his chin to my dad. “You want anything, sir?”

“No, thank you. And it’s Harry, please. If you have a sweet tooth, they make fantastic cheesecake.”

Wilder nodded and started to walk away. “Be back.”

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