Page 15 of Power Play
“I was eighteen and unfamiliar with tattoos.”
“You were eighteen, not raised in a convent.”
“My mother would argue with that distinction.”
Aura glances toward the Fury table as one of the women laughs too loudly at something Easton says. “Ryan isn’t even here yet.”
“I know.”
They both turn toward me, and I immediately wish I’d chosen a different answer.
Bliss leans across the bar. “How do you know?”
“Because I can count.”
“You checked the table, then?”
“The table is directly in my line of sight.”
“You chose this stool.”
“You assigned me this stool.”
Aura lifts her tray. “She’s right about that.”
“Thank you.”
“You still checked.”
“Please go deliver your drinks before someone dies of dehydration.”
Aura gives me a sharp smile. “Tell Bliss what’s wrong. I’ll be back after I dump a pitcher into Easton’s lap.”
She moves away before I can remind her that assaulting customers generally affects tips.
Bliss rests both forearms on the bar and studies me with the patience she saves for people she loves and customers she suspects are about to vomit.
“Talk.”
I turn my wineglass slowly between my fingers. “I enrolled in a summer course.”
“That sounds like something you would do without requiring an intervention.”
“It’s literature.”
“That still sounds harmless.”
“It’s an elective designed to prepare students for advanced interpretation and literary philosophy.”
Bliss blinks. “Those words hurt my feelings.”
“I need it before Professor Klein’s course in the fall.”
“The professor who made Collin Grant cry over Jane Austen?”
“She didn’t make him cry. She asked why his argument required Austen to have written a completely different novel.”
“That sounds mean.”
