Camila glanced over at the elevators, and her heart lurched when the shining doors opened. But it still wasn't Hailey. Perhaps she wouldn't come after all. Perhaps something had come up. Perhaps she'd put the phone down on Camila and immediately forgotten her, moving on as smoothly as she always had.
"Hey," said the barman, shouting over the music and putting a Coors down on the glossy-black bar. "This is on the house."
It was a cheap bottle, sure, but shit--free is free, yeah? "What for?" Camila shouted back.
Read the rest at Factor Four, Issue 1 →
(exclusive until 1st April 2019)