Page 39 of Badges
A tiny bell rattles on a bent rod above the worn wooden door when we push into the Hilltop Bar.
It smells like old beer and pool table felt, but seems clean. The waft of disinfectant backs up my first impression when we pass a dark hall leading toward the bathrooms.
“There aren’t many people here,” I say quietly.
Tables frame an empty stage, with the only patrons draping themselves on the taller stools near the taps.
Bright green eyes appear behind the bar topped with a short shock of black hair. “Hey Wade. You guys want a drink?” The guy is probably about my age, with an infectious smile.
“Maybe something responsible, Scotty. On the clock.” Wade tilts his head towards me.
But then his palm brushes my lower back to steer me into one of the stiff seats sending a sizzle of heat through me.
“Got it. Miss?” That emerald gaze falls on me.
“Oh, um…” I’d love to have something a little stiffer to make this whole experience easier.
Wade clears his throat.
“Diet Coke is fine, thank you.” I guess this isn’t social hour.
I have to keep reminding myself we aren’t friends. If only he wasn’t so damn charismatic.
The warmth from his muscular arm bleeds through the thin fabric of his uniform into my bare one.
It was kinda fun watching his jaw clench when he saw my tank top and shorts.
A woman with bright maroon hair and the same eyes as the man pouring our drinks pushes from the back room carrying a bin of clean glasses.
“Oh, hi Wade.” She sets her load on the counter. “Scotty, will you put these away? I have some stuff to go over with Wade.”
Scotty’s nose gives a fast wrinkle, then nods.
“Val, this is Elena.” Wade’s thumb jerks in my direction. “Elena, this is Val. She knows pretty much everyone.”
Val’s bright red lips curve into a smirk. “Only the important ones. You two follow me to my office.” She spins on her heel, waving her arm over her head without looking back.
A giant oak desk practically suffocates the tiny room. Val drops into an overstuffed swivel chair and gestures to the small bench near the corner.
Wade just nods at me to take it.
“So, you’re the one who blew up Libby’s place?” Her stare is piercing.
The icy glass almost feels slimy now in my hand. “It’s not what you—”
“Yes or no. First step to acceptance is accountability.” Her finger wags at me like my mom used to do.
“Well, yes. But—”
Her palm flattens in the air toward me. “Start there. I’ve had enough of liars in my life. If you fuck up, yet tell the truth, that goes a hell of a lot farther with me.”
My shoulders slump. “I gotcha. That’s fair. Yes, I did some really shitty things and I want to make up for it by catching the asshole who made me do them.”
Val squints one eye. “See? Good girl.” She pats my knee like I’m a child who just recited my times tables. Twirling in her chair, she fires up an archaic computer and starts clicking through screens.
I steal a glance at Wade who’s leaning against the paneled walls with his arms crossing his chest. A flicker of a smile teases up one corner of his mustache.
He’s apparently enjoying himself.
