Page 60 of The Mating Fire
“It’s crowded and public. Well, it will be in about two hours, when the happy hour crew arrives.” She stretched her arms, feeling the pull of muscles she’d barely known she’d had. “And I could use a drink.”
Jared frowned. “I don’t know…”
“C’mon Jared. Live a little. Let’s have some fun.”
Glancing upward at the sky, his frown deepened. “It’s late afternoon. Perhaps tomorrow. Earlier in the morning.”
“Jared one does not go to a bar called the Funky Alehouse before noon. Besides, they aren’t opened.”
Sensing his deep hesitation, she went to him and hooked an arm through his. “You’ll be with me, so what could happen? Besides, you wanted to see how my powers would work in public.”
He glanced down at their interlocked arms. “Perhaps for a little while. Do they have food?”
Harper beamed. “The best honey garlic chicken wings in town.”
He made a face. “I certainly hope they have other offerings than garlic. I do have vampire friends, you know.”
Her turn to stare at him now, as he released a deep laugh. “Gotcha.”
Harper rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. Let me shower and then let’s go.”
An hour later,they were seated at the bar. Feet dangling off the stools, they ordered the Alehouse Pug, a craft beer Harper thought tasted like cherries and Jared called “a young man’s wet dream.”
A stamped copper counter covered with clear plexiglass showed the scars of previous drinks. It was Friday, not prime time for the football fanatics or other sports aficionados, but the happy hour crew began to drift in, taking seats at the bar. Harper moved her stool closer to Jared’s.
Two men joined them close by, asking the bartender to turn the television to a sports game. Jared watched them with a sly smile.
“Skins. Normals,” he mused.
Harper shrugged, feeling curiously detached from men she once wished to know better, but felt too shy to approach. “Whatever passes for normal these days.”
“Want to see the normals go nuts? Watch this.” He winked at her, then tugged on his left ear.
The channels on all the big screen televisions turned to a shopping network selling pottery. Next he tugged on his right ear and the channels all changed to a fiery television evangelist. Sputters and shouts of indignation followed much louder than the preacher's diatribe.
“You are terrible,” Harper giggled as she drank more beer.
“Terribly good,” he murmured clinking glasses with her.
“Got any other tricks you can demonstrate?”
“I am not a circus sideshow.” Jared drew himself up straight. “I’m a professional.”
She giggled again, the beer creating a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. “Changing television channels is for amateurs.”
Jared traced a bead of condensation down his glass. “Want to know another good trick I did? This will impress you.”
“I’m hard to impress, sir.” Harper’s nose tipped to the air. “But do tell. Spill the tea.”
At his questioning look she sighed. “The tea. The gossip.”
“Ah. Well, you know all the fuss over that hot pink tumbler that everyone wanted, so many people in fact…that they camped out at retail stores to get one?”
“Don’t tell me you invented that drinking cup. I know because it was around for a long time.”
“It has been,” he agreed. “But I drove the frenzy around it. I created the need. Simple thing, really. With social media these days, it’s quite easy.”
Harper shook her head. “Do you ever do anything good?”
