Epilogue
TWO YEARS LATER
JAVI
How the f**k do you get this thing on?
I watch a pair of miniature-sized fists squirm. Soft chubby arms swing in front of my face, and as they fight, wriggle and writhe into the sleeves of a “My Pretty Pink Princess” dress, I wipe a line of sweat from my brow, wondering how it is that I have more trouble subduing a five year old on her birthday than I do a suspect.
Not that I’ve done much of that lately.
With the success of The Sweet Spot, most of my time is spent sanding the tabletops for the new shop that we bought across the street, another restaurant-bar just like the one my father owned. The one I owned. A beer joint that I’ve taken to jokingly calling “The Sore Spot.”
Right now, the only sore spot is the one in my neck from where Melanie has pl
