One of Vivienne’s eyebrows rose at the choice of drink. Beer and cheap sparkling wine; god, and all this time she’d thought that Ezra had taste. He’d always struck her as a straight up spirits man.
“Ezra,” Vi said politely. She sounded terribly British compared to his deep southern drawl.
Her arm moved across the bar, casually touching at the bartenders wrist to get his attention. “Better send a second shot,” she asked and the youth grinned back and nodded. A second just as stained glass was placed in front of her and a little more than thirty mils was splashed in. If Vi didn’t know better than she would have been suspicious that the guy was trying to get her tipsy.
“Long and hard,” she said with a slightly forced smile. Another car had broken down on the outskirts of town and Vi couldn’t help but feel guilty as she’d arranged it to be towed. Not being able to warn people took its toll on her mood and prompted her drinking escapades.
And, of course, then there was Adalbern and his general attitude which was draining on the best of days. He’d been in fine form today, no doubt picking up on her already slightly sullen mood and pushing buttons with an ease that disturbed Vi.
“Very hard,” Vi reiterated. The second shot disappeared, the glass thudding against the old wooden bartop. “How about you?”