Cassie
Anthony carried his empty cosmopolitan glass out of the restaurant like it was a trophy.
He did not simply hold it. He displayed it. Every few steps, he lifted it slightly and turned it beneath the string lights as though the bartender had presented him with an award for outstanding service to nightlife.
“You know they’re going to charge you if you steal that,” Olivia said as we gathered on the sidewalk.
Anthony looked down at the glass.
“I am not stealing it.”
“You walked out of the restaurant with it.”
“I am taking it outside temporarily.”
Jill folded her arms. “That is what stealing means.”
“No. Stealing requires malicious intent.”
“And what is your intent?”
Anthony considered the question while the rest of us waited.
“To preserve the memory of a beautiful moment.”
S
