Page 23 of Kiss and Tell

“Not really,” he said. “I can deal with crowds just fine. I kind of thrive on it, actually. I like being around people. It’s just being confined in a cramped space for too long that gets to me. I need to feel like I can spread my wings.”

I filed that bit of information away, knowing I’d be able to use it later. I continued with the questions.

“Why did you ask the bartender for a recommendation?”

“I wanted to see what he’ll make me,” Connor replied. “The kind of drink I get will help me figure out what kind of place this is.”

“You don’t seem to hate it,” I noted. “Even though it is a theme bar.”

Connor nodded to a wooden desk with a typewriter in the corner.

“It’s just a few bits of decoration,” he said. “At least the drinks aren’t all named after famous writers.”

“What would be so wrong with that?”

“Don’t you think it’s over the top?”

“Not at all. It’s fun. Playful. It’s got the potential to get people talking. A conversation starter. Not to mention, it gives people a reason to talk about the place to their friends, to give a reason why they should go.”

“Hm.” Connor looked thoughtful. “I suppose a concept like that wouldn’t hurt…” He trailed off, eyes going distant.

“Are you thinking of a theme or concept bar now?” I asked.

“It’s not the worst idea in the world,” he said. “I don’t know what theme I’d want to go with, though.”

“We’ve got time to figure it out,” I told him.

The bartender returned with two glasses and set them down with a flourish.

“Seven and Seven for the lady, and an Old Fashioned for the gentleman.”

We took our drinks with a thanks and made our way to a comfortable looking leather sofa. I waited until Connor sat before taking my own seat, making sure to sit on the exact opposite end as him, as far away as I could get.

Connor was looking at his glass, contemplative. The drink was garnished with a fancy spiral of an orange peel slice, looking like it had been hand-carved with care. A bright red cherry had been pierced with a thin piece of wood, followed by a line of blueberries. The wooden stick was topped with a complicated looking knot tied at the end. A single, large piece of ice floated on top, not a cube, but shaped into a circular ball.

“That looks like a work of art,” I said.

“It feels like I’d be breaking some kind of rule by drinking it,” he replied with a wrinkle of his nose.

“I take it you don’t want anything too fancy when it comes to your drinks?” I asked.

“I want people to be able to come to my bar and order anything they like without feeling like they’re being judged or looked down on. I don’t want someone feeling bad if they order something basic. It’s got to feel casual. Friendly. Not like that guy.” He nodded his chin to the bartender.

“I did notice he’s kind of stiff and proper,” I said.

“Someplace easygoing,” Connor said with a snap of his fingers. “That’s the mood I want.”

He did seem like a pretty easygoing guy. It made sense that he’d feel most at home in a place that had that same laid back atmosphere.

I was finally getting a better feel for him. I was starting to uncover something real.

I didn’t want to lose momentum, so I continued.

“Is there a reason why you don’t like enclosed spaces?” I asked.

“Blame it on Mason,” Connor said, then he twitched violently, his whole body jerking as his eyes went wide.

“Who’s Mason?” I asked, wondering at his reaction to the name.