Page 126 of Smoke and Glitter

Tony lets out a low whistle. "That's a hell of a gift."

I look down at the brass again.

"Yeah."

He stays in the doorway long enough that I can feel another question coming.

"So are you guys..."

"No."

That stops him. I set the plate carefully on the desk.

"We were."

Tony shifts the box cutter from one hand to the other, giving me an easy opening to end the conversation. I don't take it.

"I fucked it up."

His eyebrows lift slightly, but he doesn't ask how.

"That sucks."

"Outstanding emotional support."

"I didn't know we were doing emotional support."

"We're not."

"Good. I have inventory."

He pushes away from the doorframe.

"Tony."

He looks back.

"Thanks."

He gives me a quick nod. "Sure."

Then he goes back to work. I stay in the chair.

Tony didn't look at me differently. The words didn't crack anything open that can't be put back together. I said we were and I fucked it up, and then he went back to moving tequila.

I look at Autumn's name on the fabricator card. Maybe I've been giving words more power than they have. Or maybe only some words. And only with one person.

By the time we open, I've moved the plate to the corner of my desk where nobody can knock it over.

Near close, Bex comes in carrying a clipboard and closes the door behind her with her heel. She's halfway through telling me about a change to next week's performer schedule when she notices the brass.

She stops.

"What is that?"

I swivel my chair enough to give her a better view.

Bex walks over, reads SMOKE across the top, then picks up the fabricator card before I can hand it to her.