Page 96 of Color of You
“He won’t let me tattoo him,” Scarlet told Gideon.
“I don’t want regret on my arm,” I stated.
“Hey, at least he’s not coming to you drunk, asking for kanji he thinks says ‘warrior’ but it actually says ‘newspaper,’” Gideon pointed at Scarlet. “I learned that’s pronouncedshinbun, by the way.”
“The more you know,” she answered.
“Gideon?” I asked again. “Did you need something?”
He laughed and waved a hand. “Yeah, sorry. Silas hopped over to Bucker’s and confirmed that Bill is working the bar tonight, so you two can go through with this little plan of yours.”
I glanced over my shoulder at the students gathering bags, coats, and instrument cases, before getting closer to Gideon. “How do you know about that?”
He motioned with his hand while saying, “Felix called Silas and told him. Silas is the town’s resident good boy, so he can come and go at Bucker’s without harassment. Silas told me what was up. I’m telling you. This is how it works in a small town. Better get used to it, Merlin.”
“It’s like a game of telephone,” Scarlet stated. “Except at the end I’m not trying to make sense of a ‘moocher, muffin-munching giraffe.’”
“Basically,” Gideon agreed.
“Giraffes aside,” I started, “he’s the bartender?”
Gideon nodded.
“All right. Thanks for the heads-up.”
Gideon saluted us both with a finger and excused himself. The front door had barely shut behind him when we heard a loud curse. Scarlet and I ran to the door and looked outside as Gideon was picking himself up from the icy steps.
“You okay?” I called.
“Fine,” he said, wincing. “Broke my ass, but no big deal.” He waved again and started limping down the sidewalk.
I looked at Scarlet and shut the door. “Well, Girl? Ready to try to take down some homophobic assholes?”
“Fuckin’ A, Boy.”
SCARLET HADa plan that was both ridiculous and brilliant at the same time. She was going in first, and I needed to give her at least a half hour before following. She was going to enjoy a drink at the bar, chat Bill up, and when she managed to find a topic that he liked talking about, she’d strike.
“I’ll tell him I’m a blogger.”
“Will he know what that is?”
“Doesn’t matter. This is the kind of guy who wants attention. He’s desperate for it, even. I’ll just mention how fascinating I find whatever it is he’s talking about and ask if I can interview him for my blog,” Scarlet explained.
We were sitting at a table in Eatery that night with Felix, Stephen, and Silas. George, the owner, had closed up early, basically letting us use the restaurant as an HQ—and he and Gideon were cleaning while we strategized.
“I think it’ll work,” Stephen said. “At least, Bucker would consent to being recorded at that point.”
“Then Bo goes in?” Felix asked.
Scarlet nodded. “Right. He comes in alone, just for a drink. He’s new enough still that it’s logical he might not know he wouldn’t be an ‘acceptable patron,’ right?”
Silas grunted in acknowledgment.
“So,” she continued, “in strolls Bowen, and he takes a seat at the bar for a drink. I suspect Bucker won’t serve him, but we’ll see. Either way, Boy, you’re in charge of working him up enough to want you kicked out.”
“Without the kicking part,” I added.
“Exactly. And when you leave, I’m going to try to keep him going. Just little nudges from apretty girlwanting to know more. Get it?”
