She turned toward the bar and raised her voice. “Hey, Rocco. What does a girl have to do to get a drink around here? Flash her boobs?” I covered my mouth and laughed behind my hand. Rocco, the lumberjack bartender, crossed his arms and raised his bushy eyebrows as if to say, Go ahead, I’m waiting. Sandra laughed. “Leave it to Rocco to call my bluff. I’ll go get us drinks. What do you want?”
