Free Beer Money (A Burr Ashland Mystery) by Dani Amore Page B

my mind until the chorus:
    It's hard to tell it's hard to tell
    when all your love's in vain.
    The song was moving, and I must have shown it because I soon felt a hand on my shoulder.
    “I see you like that song, too.” Eve Rochelle looked beautiful in the half-light. A simple black sweater, blue jeans and black shoe boots. Her dark hair was pulled back, a simple diamond stud adorned each ear and a small diamond solitaire necklace lay against her musky throat.
    The fog of my mood instantly began to lift. Being in the presence of beauty of any kind always did that to me. "What are you doing out here? This is the very definition of a hole-in-the-wall."
    "You think I give up easily?" she said, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Fred told me you come here.”
    "So you're working tonight?"
    "I'll expense the beer I'm about to buy you," she said.
    "I don't mean to disappoint you," I said, "but I'm definitely off the clock tonight."
    Eve's dark eyes flashed, or maybe it was just the reflection of the neon sign above the mirror.
    "So am I." She caught the bartender’s eye and motioned for him to refresh my beer.
    "Any reason you chose to end the year here?" she asked, seeming to take her first good look at the place.
    “None that I can think of,” I said. “You?”
    "I'll be honest," she said. "I wasn't going to do anything this year. So I turned down all invitations. I was sitting at home, ready for a quiet night when suddenly I thought, I don't want to do this! So I grabbed my coat, remembered some friends had said they might get together at some place near here. I couldn't remember where it was exactly, and I remember Fred mentioning this place, so I took a chance and dropped in."
    "Well, I'm glad to be your fallback," I said. "So tell me what you do when you're not running a brewery."
    She spoke for several minutes. Books she'd read. Movies she'd seen. The relatives in Chicago who she visited once in awhile.
    I listened as best I could while I watched her lips move, watched the tiny laugh lines around her eyes crinkle when she smiled. Her fingers were long and slender, her smile easy. There was an aura about her of energy, of vitality, not so much an element of danger as one of vibrancy, like the steady hum of a powerful electric current.
    I tried to think of how long it had been since I was with a woman, and it had been just that: long. Somewhere around the Cenozoic, I believed.
    Suddenly, I realized she was smiling at me.
    "I'm sorry?" I said.
    "Your turn," she said. "Tell me what's not on the resumé."
    I don't know how long I spoke. I gave her a rough outline, glossed over the bad parts. It was a pretty seamless edit. Practice makes perfect. When I finished, I felt good. Better than I had in a long time, in fact.
    I feared that I'd bored her. That she was going to thank me for my time and be on her way.
    Instead, she said, "Want to go someplace else? A little quieter?"
    "Sure," I said. "I know a place downtown-"
    "I was wondering," she interrupted. "If the Ashland house has a late tour I could catch?" Now I was grinning like an idiot and made no attempt to hide it. It would have been impossible anyway.
    I made a big show of checking my watch. "If we hurry," I said. "We might just catch the last one."
    Outside, I walked with Eve to her car, a dark blue BMW. Once she started it up, I walked back to the Audi, started her up, and left, Eve following behind me.
    Fifteen minutes later, we pulled into my driveway. Inside, I hung her coat up in the front closet next to mine. "Do you want a drink?" I asked. "I think I've actually got a bottle of champagne around in here somewhere," I said, rummaging through the refrigerator.
    "Sure," she said.
    I found the bottle, popped the cork and ran through in my mind anything that was out of place, but I'd cleaned before I left, not wanting to start the New Year with a mess. I gave her a glass, we clinked, and then I gave her the tour.
    "This is nice, Michael. Very masculine." I