There didn’t seem to be any substantive communication going on, but oddly, that didn’t seem to matter. They were pleasant, and that was enough to ...stablish an uneasy contentment. Three times per week, Cindy had sex. In the evenings, she sat and tried to keep herself interested in her novel, and she wondered what the characters in the book were getting that she was not. Something was lacking, she felt. The sex was most certainly satisfying … it made her body shiver and tingle. She liked the men. Various pictures adorned the wall behind the bar, depicting what Jaime assumed to be the owner with various high-profile visitors from over the years. Some she didn’t recognize, figuring them for country stars by the guitars and cowboy hats, but she did see pictures of Conan O’Brien and Anderson Cooper among them.“Welcome to Steve’s!” said a middle-aged man with grey hair and a potbelly.“Thanks,” Jaime replied, taking a seat at the bar. “Corona with lime, please.”The man’s smile shrunk a bit.. More

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