Free Set the Night on Fire by Libby Fischer Hellmann

was his return to Chicago. He closed his eyes, feeling a weight settle on his shoulders.
    When he opened his eyes, he noticed a woman a few feet away. She was wearing a heavy black sweater, jeans, and work boots. Working her way through a double scotch, she was trying too hard to be casual. She had to be on the other side of forty, maybe even fifty. Her hair was unnaturally auburn and pulled back low at her neck, but aside from a little thickness around her middle, she’d kept herself trim.
    He studied her face. It was a sweet face, with a widow’s peak at her hairline, a small nose, round cheeks, and eyes that looked tired but honest. He kept gazing at her until, as if he’d sent out a magnetic beam, she looked over.
    Usually when someone noticed him, he’d avert his face, hoping to fade into obscurity.
    For some reason tonight, though, he didn’t. They locked eyes. Her cheeks colored, and he saw the beginnings of a smile. He felt suddenly awkward. How long had it been? Almost forty years? He felt a stirring in a part of his body that he’d thought was permanently numb. Christ. What was he supposed to do?
    A deafening roar reverberated through the bar, and a series of vibrations splashed beer and liquor on the counter. Dar glanced around worriedly, wondering why no one else seemed to be bothered. The woman who’d been eyeing him pointed a finger upwards. Dar looked at the ceiling, saw the light fixture sway, and realized it was a plane coming in low for a landing. He settled back on his stool, feeling heat on his cheeks.
    The woman waited a decent amount of time, then said, “With all the taxes we pay, the least they could do is change the flight path, don’t you think?”
    Dar gave her a brief nod.
    “Sorry, I can’t hear you,” she said.
    Puzzled, he stroked his chin. He’d started to grow a beard when he got back from Michigan.
    She shook her head. “It’s a joke.”
    “Oh.” He wasn’t sure he got it, which made him feel more awkward.
    But she vacated her stool and plopped down on the empty one next to him. “I’m Cece.”
    “Dar.” He extended his hand.
    She took it with an amused expression that made Dar think the people she knew didn’t shake hands. Her skin was warm and soft. “What kind of name is Dar?”
    “It’s short for Darwin. As in Charles.” She shot him a blank look. “The scientist who discovered evolution?”
    “Oh.” This time, she nodded as if she got it. Dar wasn’t convinced. Then again, if she didn’t, they’d be even.
    He stood there, wondering what to say next, when a man who looked like he was twenty years and thirty pounds past his fighting weight bellied up to the bar. “Hey, doll.” He insinuated himself between Dar and Cece.
    “Evening, Judd,” Cece said.
    “This guy hassling you?” He yanked a thumb towards Dar. “’Cause if he is . . . ” He let his voice trail off. Cece shook her head. “You sure, babe? ’Cause you know I’m here to look out for you.”
    “I can look out for myself, Judd.”
    “I’m not so sure.” He eyed Dar suspiciously. “We don’t need no strangers around, do we?”
    “Judd.” Cece’s voice went hard. “It’s all right.”
    The guy was shorter than Dar, but twice as wide. He faced Dar. “I dunno. Maybe you’d best be on your way, mister.”
    “Judd,” Cece threw out her hand. “Stop!”
    But Judd stood there, his chin jutting out, glaring at Dar.
    Dar slid off his stool, hoping his six feet would compensate for Judd’s brawn. “The lady thinks it’s all right,” he said softly. “I’d do what she says.”
    Judd stared, looked Dar up and down. Then he backed off. He raised his index finger at Cece as he retreated. “You need somethin’ honey, you just call.”
    “I will.” Cece watched him go with a straight face. Then she turned and flashed Dar a grateful smile. He smiled back.
    Ten minutes later Cece made a show of checking her watch. Dar looked at the wall clock. Almost eleven. She swiveled