Gesturing around the pub, Mandi said, "Well, Ed, you did say you wanted to
get away from the crowds."
As the bartender pulled a couple of glasses of beer for them, he said, "It's
like this every year. The only convention that brings in less business is the
Salvation Army thing." Nodding toward the window, he added, "Which just happens
to be going on this week, too, of course. It's the worst week of the year for
everybody but the hotels and restaurants."
The reddish-colored beer cost five bucks a glass and it tasted rather
bitter. Cade decided that he preferred his usual Ice House beer as he set his
local brew on a table and put quarters in one of the pool tables.
"Don't like it, huh?" asked Mandi, nodding at Cade's beer.
"Not particularly. Too bitter. I'll break."
"Oh, really? We aren't going to flip a coin?"
"No, ma'am, we aren't. I've got a strong feeling that if you break, you'll
run the table."
Rolling a stick on the table to check it's straightness, Mandi said, "Oh,
but maybe I'm not much of a pool player, sir."
Watching her chalk the tip of her stick by spinning the stick and lightly
buffing the contact point, Cade said, "Uh, huh.
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