Well Met(88)

Master of nuance, that guy. “I did. But this helps.” I took the proffered tequila shot and tossed it back. Just one tonight. I needed to stay in control. I didn’t want to end the night sobbing and singing bad karaoke. I pushed the shot glass back in Mitch’s direction and looked around the bar.

“Don’t worry, I already looked. He isn’t here.”

“I wasn’t looking for him.” But I smiled in thanks, which only widened as he passed me a beer. “Stacey was meeting me here; have you seen her?”

“Here I am! And here you are!” Stacey appeared as if by magic and practically tackled me in a hug from behind. “I’m so glad you made it!”

“Of course she did.” Mitch turned back to the bar and signaled for a drink for Stacey. “Why wouldn’t she want to hang out with us? We’re awesome.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” I took a sip of my beer and leaned happily against the bar. “So tell me everything. What did I miss last weekend?”

Mitch raised his eyebrows. “Really? I thought you were bitter about Faire.”

“No, she’s not!” Stacey nudged him. “She’s bitter about pirates who act like dickheads.”

“We certainly have one of those.” He sighed, then brightened. “In that case, you will absolutely want to hear about Saturday’s first chess match.”

“I do? Why’s that?”

He barked out a laugh. “It sucked.”

“That’s an understatement!” Stacey giggled around the mouth of her beer bottle. “I mean, you’ve been doing this fight, what, twice a day for almost two months now?”

Mitch snorted. “Not to mention the past three years.”

My eyes widened. “What happened?”

“Simon fucked up all over the place, that’s what happened. His timing was off; he couldn’t get the punches to look even close to convincing. I pretty much had to dive over his shoulder like some kind of asshole.” He shook his head. “He got it together for the rest of the weekend, but the boy was rough.” He brightened. “It was pretty funny, though. I think someone videoed it—I need to ask around. But I told him last night when we . . .” He caught himself and looked up at me then, stricken.

“It’s okay,” I said, oddly touched that Mitch had so much concern for my feelings. “You’re allowed to talk to the guy, you know.”

“Yeah.” He shook himself. “I mean, yeah, of course. I’ve known him for years. I talk to him plenty. That’s normal.”

I blinked. That was . . . vehement. “So . . . ?”

“Hmm?” He looked at me blankly.

“So you told him last night . . . ?”

“Oh, yeah. I told him he’d better get his shit together. We’re going to meet tomorrow morning to run through the fight again, make sure he knows what the hell he’s doing.” He took another swig of beer. “Oh, hey, speaking of, you should come on Sunday.”

“‘Speaking of’? Speaking of what?” I looked down at my beer. I hadn’t had much to drink, so why was it hard to follow Mitch’s conversation tonight?

“Faire,” he said quickly. “Speaking of Faire.”

Stacey rolled her eyes. “We’re always speaking of Faire, aren’t we?”

“I’m not coming on Sunday.” My heart started pounding at the thought of it. “I need a break from pirates and wenches for a little while. Maybe forever. No offense.” I bumped Stacey’s shoulder.

“No, I agree with Mitch,” Stacey said. “You should come.”

I leveled a look at her. “You were the one who said I didn’t need to. I shouldn’t have to ‘deal with that crap,’ remember?”

“Oh, no. Not to work it. Not in character. But as a patron.”

“Yeah,” Mitch said. “On Sunday.”

“Sunday?” He seemed awfully insistent, but I couldn’t figure out why. “Why not tomorrow?”

“Because Sunday’s the last day,” Stacey said. “It’s . . . I dunno, it’s always a little more fun. A little more silly. And besides, the vendors that are still there sometimes put stuff on sale, so you can maybe get a new corset or something.”

“If I were planning to do Faire ever again.”

She shrugged. “Never say never. If you’re going to live here in Willow Creek, you’re going to have something to do with Faire.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of a law.” Mitch polished off his beer, then went to exchange the bottle for a new one.

I turned to Stacey. “You honestly think I should go?”

Stacey’s nod was emphatic. “You should. Hey, see if April will come with you. Strength in numbers and all that. Might make you feel better.”

I considered that. “You know, she hasn’t come to Faire all summer.”

“I don’t think she’s ever come to Faire.” Stacey took a sip of her drink. “Maybe she should. She seems nice, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen her out anywhere. I know she’s a single mom, but she’s still allowed to have fun, right?”

“You’re not wrong.” The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. Going with April sounded a lot less scary than going alone, and maybe it would be fun to go as a patron. See all the shows I’d been missing. Go to the joust, have a turkey leg.