Chapter 24: The Bartender Pours

The ballroom went quiet in a different way.

A few people shifted in their seats.

A man near the front studied his shoes.

Jasper walked to the bar at the back of the room.

He took off his jacket and hung it on a hook.

He rolled his sleeves to the elbow.

Then he stood behind the brass rail with his hands flat on the wood, and every head in the room turned to watch him.

"The bar's open," he said. "One drink each. I'll pour it myself. I only ask that you come up and take it from my hand."

Nobody moved.

I sat down on the nearest chair with my skirts spread around me.

The cello started again, soft.

It was my doorman who went first.

He walked up with his wife on his arm.

Jasper poured him a whiskey, neat, and slid it across.

"Congratulations, sir," the doorman said.

"Thank you for the stairs."

"Anytime."

The baker went next.

Then the neighbor with the phone.

Then the nurse and her boyfriend.

Then a line began to form, and it was nothing but kindness, until it reached the cheap seats.

The three women from the Langdon club stood at the back with their gloves in their hands.

They had laughed at the gala.

They had laughed at the club table when Spencer's mother said I looked like a sofa.

I watched them.

They looked at each other.

The oldest of them, a tall woman with silver hair and a pearl collar, took a breath and walked up to the bar alone.

Jasper looked at her.

"What can I get you?"

"A glass of champagne."

He poured it.

She picked it up, and her hand shook.

"Mr. Rhodes."

"Ma'am."

"I'd like to speak to your wife."

He tilted his head toward me.

She crossed the floor.

She stopped in front of my chair and stood very straight, because she was the kind of woman who knew only one way to apologize, and that was upright.

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