Yeah, this is gonna drive me crazy.

“Alec,” Smitty says.

“Huh?”

The glare he gives me makes his nose-piercing flare. “For the third time, what tap am I changing out for the new lager? The IPL?”

“Um…” I sigh. “There’s a new IPL?”

Smitty’s eyebrows lift. “Chelsea brought it? Never mind. I’ll just decide by myself. I’ll rotate out something generic. Cheapskates will have to drink the good hooch.”

That’s probably going to lead to some complaints, but I don’t care right this second. I’m distracted by the couple again, because they’re actually kissing now.

“Hey—are you macking on that lesbian couple?” Smitty asks. “You know there’s porn for that.”

“Oh, shit,” I say slowly. “I just figured out who that is.” And, yeah, it’s bad news.

“A porn star?” Smitty asks.

“No, moron. Her name is Daniela. She’s in a relationship with someone I know. And they live together.” Last time I heard, anyway. I have a memory for exactly this kind of thing—names and gossip. I was destined to become a bartender.

“Uh-oh,” Smitty says.

“No kidding.” I watch for a moment longer, just to make sure I’m not imagining it. But I can see their tongues from all the way over here.

“She’s cheating on her man with a woman?” Smitty dumps a new bucket of ice into the bin. “Kinda dumb, since we live in a small town.”

“She’s cheating on a woman with another woman,” I clarify. “You know May Shipley?”

Smitty stands up, pointing at the Shipley Cider tap. “Like these Shipleys?”

“Yeah, that’s right. May is Griffin’s sister.”

“You gonna tell ’er? Why bother? It’s not like you’re a big fan of the Shipleys.”

He’s right. I should probably just leave it alone.

Another pack of drinkers descends on the bar, and I spend the next ten minutes pouring a lot of drinks. Someone asks for a snakebite, so I half fill a pint glass with Shipley Cider. The musky apple scent makes me think of high school, when I used to help the Shipleys get the last of their crop into storage at the end of every season. Ten bucks an hour. It seemed like a fortune back then.

And then August Shipley fired my father, and our lives went right to hell.

Good times.

Serving up drinks and smiles on autopilot, I consider what to do about May’s cheating girlfriend. Maybe they broke up and I’m worrying for nothing?

As Smitty said, though, it’s a small town. I probably would have heard about a breakup. My sister would have mentioned any big upheavals at the Shipley’s place.

I sneak another look into the corner, and the two women are still going strong.

God, I hate cheaters. Do I call May? Do I mention it to her brother next time I see him?

Nah, not him. Griffin would probably just think I was a gossip. We’re not close. Not since high school, when we were fierce competitors. And definitely not lately, since he broke my sister’s heart.