C91

“I got it,” I say to the bartender and slide some cash over the bar. “Keep the tip.”

The bartender grins at me, bright white teeth against ebony skin. I perk up. Now he on the other hand could be a possibility. I’m a sucker for a great smile.

He grabs a mid-shelf vodka and pours some in my glass. I lean in, elbows on the bar top