| Flat And Broken

𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀

I took a sip of my Negroni cocktail at — I glanced at the old grandfather clock in the corner — two in the afternoon. Lucky for me, my family owned this damn restaurant, and no one who worked in Biloxi would question my motivation for drinking a cocktail this time of day. 

 "It's a bit early for you, isn't it?" 

 Except for Daniel. 

 I shrugged. "I don't know. According to whose standards, mine or yours?" 

 He took a seat next to me at the bar and eyed my cocktail. "Negroni. Gin. That's some hard liquor." 

 I ignored him and took another sip.

 "Everything okay?" 

 "Why wouldn't it be?" 

 "Oh, I don't know." He held up his hand, signalling to the bartender to give him one of his usual—bourbons. "Maybe it's because you're not a big drinker, and you hardly ever come down to the restaurant."