Bay came around the end of the bar, swivelled his hips as he adjusted the tray and set the drinks down around the table in order.
“Black cherry for Micky; Lager for Zol; JD and coke,” And a kiss apparently, “For Issac; Corona for the man with the wheels,” Zupan jabbed bay in the thigh with his elbow in response, “And an apple martini for… who?” Bay set the drink down next to Zupan’s corona, and glanced around the table as if he could’ve missed someone, “It ain’t for me. I don’t drink green girl