Chapter 29
Present day
After about another hour, his phone fell silent. Relieved to find the buzzing had stopped, he placed it on the table next to his empty glass.
The screen flashed a message that he had four missed calls, and one voicemail, but he made no move to see who’d been calling. He played with the empty glass in his hand, wondering if Scella would pour him another if he asked nicely enough.
“If you hit the bull’s eye from here, the next one is on the house,” the bartender said, as if summoned by his thoughts.
He turned sideways in his chair to look at her.
She was young, and far too pretty to be in a bar like this, but with one hand on her hip and a bottle of scotch in the other, she also seemed right at home. And he was damned thirsty.
Wordlessly, he picked up one of the darts he’d set down on the table and threw it at the board.
It sunk right in the middle with little fanfare.
She gave a low whistle, as though impressed, and with a sigh, proceeded to pour him another one.
“Guess John’s right,” she said, shaking her head.
“John?” Aberlour asked. The name was familiar, like he should have known who it was.
“The owner. He says he’s never seen you miss,” she said, as she finished with her pour, stepping back to stare at him.
“I don’t,” Aberlour agreed.
“And that you’re cocky.”
Aberlour shrugged. He picked up the other dart and threw it at the board. It flew in a perfect arc and hit dead center.
Scella chuckled and went over to the board, as though to check both darts were really in the center. She plucked out both darts and brought them back to him, holding out her hand for him to take them.
“Like I said—cocky,” she teased, before winking at him, spinning on her heels and heading back to the bar.
Was it cocky to believe what you knew to be true without being apologetic about it?
He took a sip from his glass, and while staring at the bottom of the glass, threw one of the darts again. Even with the warped view of the board through the bottom of the glass, he could tell he hadn’t missed.