Free Indomitus Oriens (The Fovean Chronicles) by Robert Brady Page A

instead of a few big gulps, and of course eat before, during and after.
                  Bill wasn’t pounding on Melissa’s bar tab, but the rest of these kids were on their own, and that made him really nervous because drunks don’t always remember things very accurately.
                  “So, yanno,” Melissa said, with her tiny hand on his shoulder, “how did you get so good at sales and stuff?”
                  “Stuff?” he asked. Her breath smelled like a brewery. Roy and another hanger-on had been trying to get her attention and shoehorn in between them all night, but Melissa would have none of it. She was entirely focused on Bill. She’d made him her mission apparently.
                  “Yanno,” she said. “Like, cars ‘n co’puters and boys ’n stuff.”
                  “Ah,” he said sagely. “Well, by living it, I guess. Benefits of growing old, more memories than expectations.”
                  “You say that too much,” she said, and slapped his shoulder. “You aren’t that old.”
                  “Nah,” Chelsea said. “You are totally middle aged.”
                  “I would do you,” another of the girls said, with a wicked grin.
                  “You would do anyone,” Chelsea said.
                  “Except Roy,” all of the girls said together, like some big joke. Of course, Roy’s chin hit the floor, as the girls went into gigglefest.
                  “But seriously,” the girl who ‘would do him,’ said, “you’re not old like grandpa-old. You’re doing okay.”
                  “Look at you, totally perving on him!” lobster girl said.
                  “Yeah,” said Chelsea. “Melly’s buying him beer; she is the only one who gets to perv on him tonight.”
                  “And you girls say we’re bad,” one of the other guys said.
                  “Oh, we know we’re bad,” Chelsea said, and hooked pinkies with the girl next to her. “Buy me a shot and you’ll see how bad.”
                  The boys went for their wallets as one, then laughed.
                  Bill had been growing steadily crimson during the whole conversation. This was going somewhere he didn’t want to go. Melissa was looking down at her tips again and smiling.
    “I’ll be right back,” Bill said, and got up from the stool.
                  Roy leapt into it, and that was fine. A trip to the men’s room and then he intended to beat a hasty retreat.
                  “Hey, can I ask you something?”
                  Bill turned as he pushed through the door with the ‘man’ symbol on it. He entered to find himself alone with one other guy in the Men’s room. Strange for a place this crowded.
                  “Sure.”
                  The guy looked to be in his twenties, tightish jeans, maroon business shirt open three buttons, nice shoes. He had a great head of hair, parted on the side and black as night with white highlights, brown eyes, and a black beard with the same white highlights.
                  “Is that your ‘crew’?” his mouth smiled at Bill, his eyes didn’t.
                  “No, they think it’s funny to go out with dad,” Bill said. “I give it a week before they’re bored with me and do something else.”
                  “So no interest in the long-haired one who can’t get her eyes off of you?”
                  Bill laughed, and dried his hands with a paper towel. “She’s younger than my daughters,” he said.
                  The younger man laughed. Something didn’t seem right, whoever he was. He had a youthful face and old eyes, with a far-away look but no crow’s feet.
                  “So you