Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Bartender
After giving me a kiss, Mr. Branson disappeared into the crowd. When I set my tray of empty glasses on the bar, Max summoned the courage to speak to me.
“Excuse me… Sugar-t**s?”
“Yes, Max?”
“Could you help me pick up a few supplies before the next rush?”?”
“Sure.”
After setting down the drinks and extricated my flesh from the various patrons who wanted to pet me, I followed Max down a corridor past the offices and into a dark room full of boxes. He shut and locked the door behind us.
“I’m a little low on vodka,” he said.
“Oh. There are so many boxes in here. How do you know which one is which?”
Suddenly, Max threw his arms around me, kissing me with passion. He stroked his fingers through my hair, kissing my neck over the marks left by Kristof
