Danielle had been plastered up against him since the moment she’d arrived, while he clutched her tightly to him with one arm draped around her. Being apart from one another, even for a second, just felt wrong. Not touching her also felt wrong, and he realized that the arm he had around her couldn’t stop moving and exploring. The material of her dress was so thin and silky, and through it he could feel the straps of her lingerie on her hip and her thigh. He couldn’t stop tracing his fingers along them.

His friends shot him a few amused glances as they filed out of the bar. It was clear that Joe was deep in the game, so they let him be, without even much of a goodbye. Only Nick, drunkenly lingering, came over to say hello, and so Joe introduced him. Nick extended his hand and Danielle shook it casually. As it happened Joe felt his entire body lightening considerably—it was a rush of relief flowing into him. For it had been a bit concerning to him that none of his friends had met Danielle, up until then. But now, as he watched Nick and Danielle shaking hands, he realized it was the all-important data point he had been needing. It shut down any such ridiculous notions about the nature of his girlfriend’s existence.

“So, uh… you work with Joe, right?” Nick asked her, his voice unsteady, his movements lumbering, but his words confirming her existence ever more so.

Danielle nodded and gave him back a lazy-eyed smile. But she didn’t speak, and the arm she had around Joe’s waist squeezed a bit tighter.

Even in his drunkenness Nick got the message loud and clear. “Alright, I’m getting out of here,” he said. “You kids have fun.”

“Later, Nick,” Joe said, and they exchanged a perfunctory slap-shake.

“Nice meeting you,” Danielle added.

Nick waved, and then stumbled off. Joe turned his attention back to Danielle.

“So you’ve finally met my friends,” he noted.

“Yeah. They seem fun.”

“I haven’t met any of yours yet.”

“You will tomorrow, I’m sure.”

“In Manhattan?”

“Yeah.”

“Does your boyfriend want to kick my ass, Danielle?” The question just popped into his head. In their cozied-up state, he had no concern letting it fly.

She looked aghast. “Are you talking about Landon? He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Is he some kind of psycho, though?”

She scowled, like that was the most preposterous thing she’d ever heard. “Why would you even think that?”

Joe shrugged. “Someone sent me some threatening texts yesterday. It sounded like they have it in for me. I thought it could be him, if he had my number somehow.”

“That’s laughable, thinking it’s Landon. He’s totally harmless. I don’t think he’s ever been in a fight in his life.” She giggled. “He wouldn’t even know what to do. He’s afraid to get his hands dirty.” Danielle pressed herself back up against him, and looked into his eyes. “Someone else is messing with you, Joe. Maybe one of your friends? Playing a joke?”

Joe just shrugged, already dismissing it. The music was loud and while still pressed against him she began moving her body to it. This was typical. She could never stop dancing.

They talked but mostly kissed. Eventually he began to think they might be making a scene, but he didn’t care. Clearly she didn’t either. All along he couldn’t stop feeling along the lingerie strap through her dress. It was right on her hip and the top part of her ass where his hand spent much of its time residing. Still he sometimes reached even lower, along the hem of her dress where he felt the bare skin of her thigh. All the while she moved her hips to the music and kissed him in between their snippets of conversation. Each time her lips met his he felt dizzy and at one point he realized his hand was probably too far up her dress.

“Goddamn, girl, we really gotta go somewhere...” he muttered. “I don’t want to get arrested.”

She smiled, and then his heart leapt at the feeling of her hands on his jeans, actually clutching onto his front pockets.

“Danielle, seriously. I’m about to burst out of there. It would be indecent exposure to boot.”

Then her fingers actually slipped inside those pockets, one in the left and one in the right.

“What are you doing?” he asked, taken aback.

“Oh wow, you weren’t kidding,” she remarked.

“Well, it’s got to go to one side or the other. I mean, there’s not any other option.”

She flashed him a sly smile, but then her fingers came out of his pockets rapidly, and he saw that she clutched onto Jennifer’s letter in one of her hands. It was shocking to see it so suddenly, out in the open, and fully revealed to her. He felt his two worlds colliding. His mind scrambled and he couldn’t decide if ultimately it was good or bad that she’d found it. He also couldn’t consider the obvious obscurity—how she even knew to go looking for it in the first place. Really, he found that he didn’t so much care anymore, about any of it. The alcohol had taken care of that.

“What is this?” she asked, unfolding it. Her face looked cynical.

“What, are you like, shaking me down, Danielle?” There was an accusing tone in his voice.

She looked at the letter. Joe saw her eyes darting back and forth as she read it.

“You actually carry this around with you?” she asked.

“I guess so,” Joe replied.

“Is this from Jennifer?”

Joe nodded meekly.

She gave a little scowl. “Her handwriting looks like she’s in high school.”

“She was in high school. I actually haven’t seen her in years.”

Danielle hesitated. “This is really weird, Joe.”

He shrugged. “I’m a weird guy.”

She folded the letter back up, and dropped it down on the table. Parts of the paper drew in water from a ring of condensation left from a cold beer bottle. Joe took dull notice of it sitting there, exposed and vulnerable. But he couldn’t pick it back up again. Not right in front of her.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked her.

“No. For me it’s… irrelevant. I don’t know what else you have going on in your life. And I don’t need to know, or to interfere with any of that. We’re not really predicated on that, I don’t think.”

“Oh. Okay. Well then… what are we predicated on?” His question was an honest one to begin with, but as the words left his mouth he realized it was merely an alley-oop for her to slam down. He waited in anticipation.

“My lips wrapped around your cock?” she suggested.

Slam it down she did. It was a thunderous dunk. And the crowd went wild.

“Okay, it really is time to get the hell out of here,” Joe moaned, as he took her hand emphatically and began to lead her out of the bar. She gave an amused smirk while doing her best to keep up with him.

The door was in his sights and he made a beeline for it. But at the last second, a guy stood up from his seat at the bar and blocked his path.

“You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me,” Joe muttered in disbelief.

It was Roy McKee who stood in their way. He had on his usual business attire, but again worn with bar-mode looseness to it. He calmly put his drink down and faced them. His manner and expression were reluctant, but at the same time firm and dutiful. Joe could tell right away this wouldn’t be a light encounter.

“What the hell are you doing all the way out here?” Joe barked, feeling his anger rising. It scared him how fast it grew. “Do you seriously follow me around?”

Roy shrugged, and spoke in a tone like he was breaking bad news to someone. “I just can’t let you leave with her, man. I just can’t.”

“Do you know her, or something?” Joe asked. The question felt obligatory—just another smokescreen, really. Somehow Joe knew it had nothing to do with that.

Roy sighed impatiently. “Never seen her before in my life, man.”

He looked at Danielle to gauge her feelings about this. She had gone in close to his side and her face looked troubled. It bothered him to see her like that.

“This is the turning point,” Roy proclaimed. “This is it. Right now. Remember what I was telling you about yesterday?”

“I don’t buy any of that shit,” Joe grumbled.

“You couldn’t just lay low and figure it out, huh? Instead you went straight out and got drunk? That’s probably the worst thing you could have done.”

“Get out of my way,” Joe barked as he rushed forward, pushing by Roy, who pushed him right back, still very purposefully impeding his path.

He stopped and looked at Roy just for a second as his anger surged. All the fear and frustration from several days boiled over in a crimson flash and Joe felt himself snap. He lunged at Roy, thrusting his arms out as though to push him right back. It seemed mundane and merely the next step in the gradual buildup towards a fight, so Joe was rather shocked to see Roy’s body sailing through the air as a result. His black trousers kicked at the air in midflight, and then he landed atop the bar. Still with considerable momentum, Roy slid across the entirety of it, knocking over drinks and bottles as people screamed and took to their feet, toppling over barstools in their haste. Roy’s feet shot up in the air, as he tumbled upside-down off the far side of the bar, but Joe had already turned away and so he saw no more. Chaos erupted all around as he grabbed Danielle’s hand and led her toward the exit. He was only vaguely aware of the crowd forcibly parting before him, like he was a barracuda going through a school of fish. At the exit, a huge, bald and tattooed bouncer came at him intently, but a second later it looked as though he had been struck by an invisible car. He remained airborne for a half second, his eyes wide, bulging, and then he fell roughly to the ground. This too Joe just blankly registered.

He led Danielle out into the street, where it was suddenly very quiet by comparison, and they walked under the star-draped sky of the summer night. He went a full block before having the courage to even look back at the bar from where they’d came from. By then the chaos and confusion had spilled out onto the sidewalk. But it was already distant, and soon, out of sight.