THE BAR WAS PACKED, a writhing mass of bodies already moving in unison on the small area designated as a dance floor. The heat was cruel with so many bodies packed into such a small space and Sophie fanned herself with a napkin, wishing they’d open the large doors on either side of the bar to let a bit of cross-breeze flow through.
“Hot in here, huh?” Logan watched her fan herself, amused. She guessed he was used to the press of the crowd and the heat they gave off, living here the last few years.
“Yeah,” she replied testily. “You’d think they’d install air-conditioning.”
“They have. Look.” He pointed to an AC unit behind the small bar, which was only just powerful enough to give the staff some reprieve from the heat.
“Oh, great. It’s the munchkin version of air conditioners.”
