Page 3 of Now and Then

“Who are you?” I ask.

“Name’s Easton.” He lifts his glass in mock salute. “And you’re Sutton.”

I lower the menu more, narrowing my eyes. “How’d you know that?”

He scoffs. “Joe’s called you it a few times.”

“Always Joe.” I huff.

“So, about those wings?”

“I’m sorry, but—” I stop myself, realizing I’ve said those three stupid words I hate. My hand immediately covers my phone and the shame of that email, even though no one knows it’s there but me. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

Easton furrows his brow. “Said what?”

I gesture for Joe to come back over, the tequila obviously making me more forthcoming than normal.

“What can I get ya?” Joe asks.

“Two tequilas.” I gesture at Easton, then close the menu and place it on the bar.

“Make that one,” Easton says. “I’m not a tequila man. I’ll take a scotch on the rocks with a twist.” His voice lilts up. “And an order of wings?”

I nod.

“Sure thing,” Joe replies. For the second time tonight, he gives me the look and turns his back to place our order.

The lights in the bar dim as evening descends, casting an eerie glow over the interior. This place has such a dreamy vibe, but Joe has no idea how to capitalize on it. A little paint, new artwork, and it would feel like an opulent speakeasy from days gone by. Maybe someday I’ll convince him to let me remodel it.

The woman with him laughs, breaking through the bar’s steady hum. I tuck my chin to my shoulder and chance a glance toward their table. They’re in a corner booth, heads hunched together, talking.

“Who even does that?” I roll my eyes.

“Does what?” Easton follows my gaze.

“That.” I jut my chin toward them.

“Talking?”

I burst into a fit of giggles just as he looks my way. I turn quickly, then duck my head and scoot a barstool closer to Easton.

“You think he saw me?” I whisper-yell to Easton.

“You mean Hunter?”

“How do you know Hunter?” I hiss.

“College.”

“But you’re old,” I blurt.

“Forty is not old.” He raises his eyebrow. “I got a late start on the college thing. How do you know Hunter?”

“He’s my brother’s best friend.”

“Wait, you’re Luke’s younger sister? Sutton Bradley?” His voice raises too many decibels. “You’re Hunter’s Sutton?”

“Shhhh!” I slap my hand over his mouth. “Jesus, do you want him to hear us? And I am not Hunter’s anything.”