“What can I do you for?” My ask is for Lydia, as I’m standing behind the bar. Even though I know her drink, and I’ve set a wine glass on the bar, I figure it’s polite to ask ( Read more... )

It’s dusk. I’m standing in my kitchen leaning against the counter. It’s dusk and I’m drunk and I’m in no hurry to go anyplace but to stand here at my kitchen counter and look around my place.

( Read more... )

INT. BAR NIGHT

WITH ANNA SLATER, NYPD DETECTIVE, NARCOTICS

Sometimes they meet for coffee and it turns into drinks. Sometimes they meet on the street and it turns into drinks. Sometimes they just meet for drinks.

Cassidy rests heavily forward on the bar on his elbows. Not his first order of the night.

Anna Slater, a late 30-something brunette arrives ( Read more... )

John fishes his brother’s shirt out of the gym bag. “You remember anything?” John asks Brian about what landed him in the hospital. The police filled him in on what happened, but he’s wondering if Brian can track what went down.

“She’s been here all day?” Brian asks about Sophie, John nods.

“They had you cleaned up before she got here. There was a ( Read more... )

“Brother, tell me something I don’t know,” John’s putting away glasses behind the bar, trying to pull Brian back into the human race. Some days reentry into the atmosphere after a day on the Job is rougher than others. He hates to see his brother burning up, so he gentles it a bit, sharing funny shit from when they were kids, maybe serving him one ( Read more... )