Chapter 22

“We have an alternative to a line. The people in here are waiting to get a table inside the main bar.” He unhanded me and opened the door.

I half choked in surprise at the sight. A take-a-ticket machine dominated the foyer and two now-serving signs flashed on either end of the room. The plain, half-dim room held a collection of tables, all of which looked taken.

Even with the walls covered in artwork, compared to the other bar, this one looked as spacious as a barn. A few people were talking, but as in a bus station, everyone seemed on edge, uneasily passing time.

I scanned the crowd, not sure if Mitch and I were going to stay for the drink we didn’t get before. There, sitting way in the back near the far wall, were Glen and his twin. As I glanced at them, they scowled. Glen rose and walked quickly up to us.

“They told me we had to wait. You need to explain that we’re taking your reserved table next door,” he spit at Mitch.

Mitch shook his head.