Tabc On The Fly Answers Chapter 1 <Trusted Source>

Instead of pouring the second double, Marco placed a glass of water in front of Paul.

“On the house,” Marco said. “How about we slow down for ten minutes?”

“You have no idea,” Paul muttered, blinking slowly.

Paul grumbled but drank the water. Marco offered a menu. Paul ordered a burger. By the time the food came, Paul was telling Marco about his divorce and his lost dog in the same sentence. He wasn’t angry—he was exhausted and self-medicating.

It was 7:45 PM on a Friday. The bar was filling up fast. A man in a wrinkled blazer—let’s call him “Paul”—slid onto a stool and ordered a double whiskey, neat.