Page 73 of Sharkbait
“How did they even find out about it?”
“Who knows?”
“Well, maybe we should at least text your buddy behind the bar. Give him a heads-up in case the cops show?”
“The cops aren’t going to show, but yes.” I lift my phone from its cradle. “I’ll shoot him a text.”
Ken is a longtime manager at the original Adventure Bar. Part of the next few months is making sure he’s ready to take over managing the Manyunk location for me full time once I move back to Hawaii. What better way to give him a test run than to let him oversee a surprise celestial orgy?
A text alert sounds while the phone is still in my hand.
“My lawyer friend just following up. She checked with a few more of her colleagues, and she says Adventure Bar is all good on the legal front. This won’t be a problem for us.”
She exhales deeply. “That’s good to hear.”
It feels weird calling Eva “my lawyer friend.” Calling her my ex never feels right either, though. I mean, she can’t be an ex if we were never in an actual relationship. But she is one of my closest friends, and we have a kid together, so she certainly warrants a better description than “my lawyer friend.”
I’m just not sure how to broach that subject with Louise without making it a whole thing, so “lawyer friend” will have to do for now.
The light turns green, and we start moving again.
“Where to?” I ask.
“Hm?”
When I peek over at her, she seems lost in thought. The lights of the nearby cars highlight her pretty face.
I’m so glad this is happening right now.
“Just wondering where I’m taking you. You want to go home? Or do you want to go somewhere?”
“I’m feeling pretty riled up,” she says softly. “So can we just… drive?”
“Sure.” I smile. “We can do that.”
We drive quietly down Main Street as couples stroll hand in hand, and families mill in and out of restaurants and galleries.
After a few minutes of silence, I test the waters. “That older guy who joined the party. I’m guessing that was your dad?”
“I don’t have a dad,” she says.
Her eyes are glued to the windshield.
“Oh. I’m sorry for your—”
“Loss? No. I didn’t lose him. He likes to disappear for long stretches of time, but he’s most definitely alive.” She sighs. “Yes, that was him at the bar. I’m just not sure he deserves the dad title from us at this point.”
“Say no more.” My fingers lift off the steering wheel, then relax back down. “Or, you know, do say more. Whatever you need.”
“He left when I was a toddler. Called on holidays and birthdays for a while, until I guess he got bored of that. Last I heard, he was remarried and living in Cabo. But that must have fizzled out ifhe’s back in the States and sniffing around us again. Thankfully, the BBB team created enough of a diversion that I was able to get out of there without speaking to him.” She scoffs. “Cabo. Ugh. Do people even live in Cabo? It sounds like a fake place.”
“They do. And it’s not.”
“You’ve been there?
“Sure,” I say. “I’ve been most places.”
“‘Most places?’ What does that mean? How many countries?”
