“Whiskey,” He answered with a nod. “Whatever brand you might suggest.” A smile crossed his face briefly, but soon vanished as he caught something that she had said.
“Lawrence?” Remy looked puzzled. As he recalled, that was somewhere in Kansas and the last time he checked he was smack in the middle of New Orleans. He briefly entertained the idea that the men’s restroom had magically transported him to a completely different bar than the one he normally played cards in, but worry took over and pushed all fun musings out of his mind.
“Chere,” Remy shook his head. “I’m ‘sposed to be in New Orleans.”