“You, uh, gave it to a bartender,” I say finally. “She kept it, wanting to call you back.” “I did?” He sounds bewildered. “Why would I—Oh!” It sounds like realization hits him like a baseball bat. “The annoying blonde! Yeah, I remember. I was going to off her whenever she called, actually.” He says it so casually that it’s unnerving, and my chest tightens. “I’d kind of like it if you didn’t.”
