Chapter 17
“YOU MEANT a real bar,” Ceren said as I led them to the narrow door of Jack’s.
“What did you think I meant?” I kept my voice light and amused, trying to lie my headache away. The girls both raised my spirits and drove nails into my aching head.
“Dad called Applebee’s a bar. It’s a restaurant with booze.”
“Jack cooks at night.” Jesse had said that Jack’s real name was Terry—I should have written that down. “I haven’t tried it, but why not?”
I opened the door and released a cacophony.
The bar had felt crowded before, but now two dozen people filled the tables and booths, all talking loudly. Dark wood swallowed most of the light, but the polish cast some of it back into the air. The air carried a thick, spicy, meaty aroma that I couldn’t quite place—a little too earthy to be
