Page 37 of A Hard Sell

“I’m, uh…going for a drink. With Morgan.” Thomas mumbled the last part.

“Oh.”

“It’s not a date or anything. He said he wanted to get to know me better.”

“Okay.”Not a date.Luka moved some papers around, then stopped and folded his hands. The sore was still festering. “It’s just, Morgan is…not a very nice person.” He nearly shook with the effort of not using a more colorful description.

Thomas leveled his heavy gaze at him. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Luka nodded and left it at that. Thomas was a grown up, entitled to go for a drink with a colleague. But he made sure to clear out of his office at 4:55, not wanting to risk being there for the moment Morgan arrived to ‘pick up’ Thomas.

“Have a good time,” he said to Thomas, watching him pack his bag. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Thomas looked uncertain. “Thanks.”

Luka took his water bottle with him and wandered into the staffroom to fill it up. He found Aleandro there, sipping tea and flipping through a stack of papers.

“Luka,” Aleandro said with a kind smile. “How are you this afternoon?”

“Uh.” Luka searched for an appropriate word. “Fine. I guess.”

Aleandro frowned. “Is everything okay?”

Luka remembered being near terrified of Aleandro at first, but not a single thing he had done since was the least bit terrifying. An idea occurred to him. “Yes, but I was thinking about going for a drink. Are you free?”

“As a matter of fact, I am! Penelope is having dinner with Ilona tonight. Thank you for the invitation. Oh!” Aleandro said, sitting up straight. “Finn keeps telling me I should go check out the Bitter Exchange. This is the perfect opportunity.”

Luka sighed.Of course.Oh well, maybe it was a good idea. Perhaps Kazio’s derision and dirty looks would distract him from thinking about what Thomas and Morgan were up to. “Sounds great.”

* * * *

“May I see a wine list, my good man?” Aleandro asked as he settled onto a stool at the bar next to Luka.

Kazio appraised him. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Hmmm…a red. Something rich and oaky.”

Kazio nodded. “I have the Sartini Baschet, or the Tricchonne Demi-Sac.”

A twinkle appeared in Aleandro’s eyes. “Which do you recommend?”

“The Baschet,” Kazio said without hesitation.

Aleandro smiled. “Haven’t had that one in a while.” He turned to Luka. “Would you care for a glass?”

Luka grinned. “Sure, thank you.”

Aleandro watched Kazio pour. “Do you recommend the Baschet often?”

Kazio sniffed. “Most people around here don’t appreciate it. But yes, I do. Elegant, reasonable price point and pairs well with almost everything on the menu.”

“For me, it’s the old-world character.” Aleandro swirled his glass then stuck his nose over it, breathing deeply.

Kazio looked confused. “Yes, exactly.”

“Tell me, what do you think about the Sartini Courbis?”

“Excellent as well, not as rich. But this year’s vintage is a little off.”

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