“Maybe that’s why you look familiar,” I say. “This is going to sound crazy, but I think we met a long time ago.”

He tilts his head, smiles. “Did we?”

“No, I mean… I think I was here, at the bar, back when I was in college.”

“So… it’s The Never Dry that looks familiar?”

“I guess that’s more accurate, yeah.” I say. “I was in town with a girlfriend for the hot sauce competition. She was photographing it for a local paper…”

I figure as much truth as I can muster is a good thing.

“And I’m pretty sure we came in here that weekend. This place doesn’t look like a lot of other bars around Austin.”

“It’s certainly possible… the festival isn’t held too far from here.” He turns and pulls a bottle of Shonky Sauce Co. Purple Hot Sauce off his shelf. “This was one of 2019’s winners. I use it to make a pretty feisty Bloody Mary…”

“That sounds like a commitment,” I say.

“It’s not for the faint of heart, that’s for sure,” he says.

He laughs and I brace myself for what I’m about to do.

“If I’m remembering this place correctly, the bartender working here that night was a total sweetheart. She gave us all sorts of tips for places to eat. I remember her. Long dark hair. She looked a lot like you, actually.”

“That’s some memory you have,” he says.

“I might be getting a little help.”

I point toward the shelf of silver-framed photographs. I point toward one in which Kate is staring back at me.

“Maybe it was her,” I say.

He follows my eyes toward the photograph of Kate and shakes his head. “No, not possible,” he says.

He starts wiping down the bar, completely tightening up. And this is when I should drop it—this is when I would drop it—if I didn’t need his help to get to it, who Kate Smith is.

“Weird. I could have sworn it was her. Are you guys related?” I say.

He looks up at me, the look in his eye changing from avoidance to irritation. “You ask a lot of questions,” he says.

“I know. Sorry. You don’t have to answer that,” I say. “It’s a bad habit.”

“Asking too many questions?”

“Thinking that people want to answer.”

His face softens. “No, it’s fine,” he says. “She’s my sister. And it’s just a little sensitive ’cause she’s not with us anymore…”