David could always smell a lie, which was why I led with the truth. Another smile. “Sure, why not? There’s a bar down the street. A bit of a hole-in-the-wall, but the beer is cold.”

I huddled deeper into my jacket. “Singing my song.”

David had never been an athlete, but he’d been leaner the summer we crossed paths. He’d been everyone’s best friend, and that trait had earned him points with the boys at camp as well as the counselors and guards. However, a bad diet and too much desk time had softened him. I never wanted to lose my lean body, my edge.

“I remember Brit saying at the birthday party that you lived in the area, so I gave it a try,” I said.

He didn’t question how I’d found his address. Back in the day, I’d been the kid who traded in information. “Glad you did. We didn’t have much time to talk at Marisa’s birthday party.”

“Brit went all out, didn’t she?”

“That’s how she rolls. No half measures for that woman.” David slowed as we approached a pub located in the basement of a four-story brick row house. He walked down the three steps, opened the door next to the red OPEN sign, and held the door for me. “Gets better, I promise.”

I followed him into the dimly lit bar. The faint scent of smoke drifted from the shadows, mingling with a blues song played over an unseen sound system. As I strolled toward the bar, I glanced at the black-and-white, framed posters of old blues-guitar players. I’d been here several times to check out the competition. What I had planned for my new establishment would smoke this place.

“If memory serves, you were into beach music,” I said.

He chuckled. “‘Myrtle Beach Days’ is my theme song.”

“Let me get this.” I ordered two beers.

“Thanks.”

When the bartender served two bottled beers, I handed one to David, and we found an empty booth. Jackets off and hung on pegs, we sat.

David held up his beer. “Thanks again.”

I tipped my bottle toward him and took a long pull. I’d tried the sober route for almost a year, but lately had a drink or two. I knew now how to keep it in check, so I wasn’t worried. “What did you think of Marisa’s birthday party?”

“Like I said, Brit never goes halfway. She put a lot of thought into it. Wanted to make it a blast from the past. The Wizard of Oz hats were definitely icebreakers.”

“That’s for certain.”

I’d been assigned the Lion hat, a.k.a. the coward. If I were a betting man, and I was, I’d say Brit was sending us all a message with those damn hats.

“Are you and Brit serious?” I asked.

“Yeah. I’m going to ask her to marry me.”