Rex stirred his whisky with a toothpick, the ice bobbing like a glacier in the Amazon. It was a worthwhile distraction for someone so uninterested in the hockey game that droned behind the bar, but this wasn’t what Rex was avoiding.

He took the toothpick out and rested it on a napkin.

“It’s got to be all water by now, Rex. I’ve never known you to drink so slow.”

John Jr. approached with a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, refilling the glass to a reasonable amount.

“On me,” said the prematurely balding bartender, “from my old man.”

He smiled, weakly, his thick black beard unable to hide the hurt that came with this statement. Rex knew it had been nearly six years since John Sr. had passed from cancer. He’d been at the funeral. John Jr. had inherited the bar that day.

Rex took a sip. It was warmer than he’d have liked, but he drank it with only a twitch of the nose to reveal his distaste. He was a pro.

It went down hot, finally rousing him to consider a move; a move he’d been working towards all afternoon.

“What if she says she ain’t interested John?”

“Who?” said John, not looking up as he holstered the Jack.

Rex motioned down the bar a few times. Jack finally looked up and took notice. A true smile breached his beard.

“Ms. Mulaney? I thought you came here to chat with me. Don’t tell me you’ve just been wanting to get to know her all this time.”

Rex gave John Jr. a knowing look.

“You’re too much like your old man, John, you know that? There’s a reason I never played cards with him two days in a row.”

“Because he took all your money since you have a shit poker face?” said John Jr. with a laugh, wiping down the bar.

This made Rex laugh as well. He reached into his pocket to grab his wallet and pulled out a twenty.

“I’m all in” said Rex, sliding the twenty across the bar.

He then scraped his stool out slowly, reaching for his cane and hat.

“So, you’re really going for it?” said John Jr., scooping the twenty and putting it into the register.

“I don’t have the time to wait,” replied Rex.

Out from behind the stool, Rex straightened his bow tie, adjusted his bowler hat and was preparing to introduce himself to the beautiful woman in the Sunday dress at the end of the bar when he stopped.

“Ya never answered me John,” said Rex, suddenly feeling like he was in high school again, “what if she don’t like me?”

John Jr. smiled.

“What if she does?”

Rex laughed, as if this thought hadn’t occurred to him. He took one final deep breath and then turned away from John, his cane scraping along the sticky floor as he made his way across the bar.