Even the Score(21)

Brody’s eyes darted from Viper to me and back to Viper in record time. “Spice it up?”

“Here, I took a picture.” I laughed as I took my phone out of my pocket. Turning it toward Brody, I watched his eyebrows pull together as he read the sign out front.



FORECAST FOR TONIGHT . . . ALCOHOL, LOW STANDARDS, AND POOR DECISIONS.



“Really?” Brody sighed, shaking his head as he stared at my phone.

“Look.” Viper pointed toward the screen from behind Brody’s shoulder. “I even drew a rain cloud and a thunderbolt. Eat your heart out, Picasso!” He pulled back and grinned proudly.

Brody shook his head back and forth slowly, still staring at the screen. “I don’t know if I should kick your ass for writing it in the first place or be proud that you spelled everything right.”

“Hey.” He lifted his hands innocently, palms up. “Just because we’re all married men now doesn’t mean that other people have to behave themselves. This place is crawling with people ready to spend one glorious, drunken night fucking a stranger’s brains out only to never have to talk to them again.”

“Let’s just hope they don’t start that night too early,” Brody said as his eyes scanned the bar full of people. “We need them to drink all of our alcohol first. I’d really like to keep this place out of the red.”

“You’re such a worrywart!” Viper punched him in the arm.

Brody glared at him. “And you’re not enough of a worrywart.”

“Okay, okay.” I laughed, watching the two of them go at it like an old married couple. “If you two are going to stand here and have a lover’s quarrel right in front of me, can one of you please get me a beer first?”

Viper’s eyes flew to Brody. “Why the hell are we even back here anyway? We have staff for this.”

“Yeah, get the hell out of here,” Savannah, one of the main bartenders, said as she flashed a playful smile and pushed them out from behind the bar. “You guys go sit in your booth, and I’ll bring you beer,” she added with a wink.

Brody and Viper eagerly followed orders, and the three of us walked to the reserved booth in the far back corner that nobody else was allowed to sit in—ever. The large booth was off by itself, and there was an area around it roped off so no one could approach it.

As Brody and I slid into the dark red seat, Viper frowned, looking down at both of us. “You guys hungry?”

“Starving,” I answered back immediately.

“Sweet!” He clapped his hands together loudly. “I’m gonna go ask Ruth to whip us up a couple of pineapple bacon pizzas.”

“A couple?” Brody questioned.

“Yeah, one for me and one for you guys.” In one swift motion, he stuck his fingertip in his mouth, then in Brody’s ear before running off toward the kitchen.

“He’s insane, you know that?” I said as Brody cringed and shoved a napkin in his ear.

“And disgusting,” he added.

After he finished wiping his ear, he cracked open a peanut from the basket on the table. “He really is insane, but man, does he bring the crowds in. We had to have security here for the first couple of months. Not bouncers, but real security.” He popped the peanut in his mouth. “Now we have a big sign by the front door that says patrons of the bar aren’t allowed to approach any athletes for autographs or pictures.”

Looking around the packed room, I said, “I guess when you own a place like this, popularity is a good problem to have, right?”

“It is.” Brody followed my gaze to the crowd. “We’ve been very lucky so far.”

Savannah walked over and set three tall beers down on the table.

“Thanks,” Brody acknowledged before she walked away. “So what was your deal tonight anyway? Why didn’t you want to come out?”

I slid one of the beers over toward me and shrugged. “I don’t know. Ever have one of those moods where you’d rather just stay home alone and sulk?”

Brody stared at me with a blank stare.

“Guess not.” I lifted the glass to my lips and took a big gulp of the cold beer. “I just had a long, crappy week at work, and it’s Blaire’s weekend with the kids—”

“Ahhh”—he cut me off as he nodded—“there it is.”

“There what is?”

“Your kids are gone. You’re always in a shitty mood when the kids go to Blaire’s. Every single time.”

“No, I’m not,” I lied, shaking my head.

“Yeah. You are.” Without taking his eyes off me, he lifted his beer and took a long drink. “And that’s not a bad thing,” he continued, wiping his top lip with his sleeve. “You’re the best dad I know, Andy, and there isn’t anything wrong with missing your kids. Especially when you know they’re in the dragon’s lair. That’s a scary damn place for any kid. Shit, any adult, for that matter.”