1. VVIP

Music thrums from within the bar as well. It’s not as loud as the beats coming from the nightclub, but racy enough for many of the patrons to gyrate against one another in the small dancing space. The bar is nearly filled up with people, mostly young ones ranging from twenty-one to maybe forty, sitting on stools. and sipping various colored drinks. The bar is long, and there are about three bartenders manning at portion of it. Their moments are quick and efficient. One of them performs an elaborate routine with at cocktail shaker, spinning it in the air, shaking it according to a rhythm, occasionally opening it, and adding ingredients. The other slashes a charming grin to a gaggle of ladies at one end of the bar. This bartender is model handsome, and the pearly teethed smile makes the ladies swoon. On the other end of the bar, there is a group of frat boys taking shots, and the bartender fills small shot glasses with an amber-colored liquid.

The bartenders are all dressed entirely in black. They all look about my age.

Coraline grins at the whole display, and tugs on my arm, “come on, let’s find a seat”

We manage to squeeze onto a couple of seats in front of the bartender handy with the tumbler acrobatics.

“Oh, it has been too long,” Coraline smiles.

“Do you go to bars often?” I ask her after realizing that I don’t know much about her after-work activities when she was not spending time with me.

Coraline inclines her head in contemplation, “Well, I won’t say often. But once in a while when I want to let loose, I do. But after the shooting, I’ve been afraid you know. The last thing I wanted was to die because I had a few and couldn’t run away fast enough.”

I feel a pang of sadness for her situation and feel guilty for protesting coming here too much.

“If

back home,” I tell her against my better judgment, “you can give me a call. I can have your back, and dunno, take you home afterward. I’m

head fondly, her expression grateful although she says, “you have an unhealthy

and all that jazz.” She sighs exasperatedly, but I could say that she

his previous clients with a thousand-megawatt grin. His hair is dyed an alarming shade of red, and his eyes are amber-colored from what

here, so you must be new. My name’s Lemon and I will be your bartender for

mentally slap myself because obviously, it’s not.

‘Lemon’ on it.

Caroline, much less reserved than I am when confronted

like the intrigue it causes in people. So, tell me, what’s

a touch of amusement and something else that makes me want

a conference,” I reply, feeling like I should provide something for

eyebrows raise “For the Forum thing down the

“Yeah.”

his body so he faces me,

not an intern,” Coraline chirps before I can say ‘yeah, but my boss was feeling lenient,”

damn. You must be really something

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