“It’s okay,” she said. “It’s been awhile since I've had a debate about music.”
Janus shot Quinn an “I told you so” look.
“Believe me, this is less of a debate and becomes more of a soapbox tourney,” Quinn said.
“It’s a pissing match,” Janus replied, and took a drag on his cigarette, holding it a moment before blowing a puff of smoke in Bill’s direction. “One I always win.”
“Get bent,” Bill said, using one of Janus’ favorite expressions.
“It’s easy to win a pissing match when you are as large as I am.”
Bill rolled his eyes.
“Rebecca is right-you really are a sexual harassment suit waiting to happen,” Quinn said.
“Americans are so uptight,” Janus said.
“How long have you lived here?” Kate asked him.
“Don’t let him fool you,” Quinn said. “He’s been here long enough that he drinks coffee, not tea, and he makes fun of British people too.”
“I make fun of English people,” Janus said. “There is a difference, you know. The English are prats.”
“My Dad is English,” Kate said. The conversation stopped, as everyone stared at Janus.
“Well, I guess… maybe not your…” Janus sputtered.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I was only kidding.”
It took a minute for that to sink in. Quinn and Bill started to laugh. Janus waited a second before joining in.
“Well, look at you,” he said. “Here only a few days and already making fun of me.”
Kate smiled at them. “When in Rome…” she said, and spread her hands.
“You’re all right,” Janus said. “Now Bill, why don’t you get off your rather large exterior and get us a drink?”
“Charming, just charming,” Quinn mumbled.
“Why do I have to get the drinks?” Bill asked. “I got them last time.”
“Do Quinn and I look daft to you, ya wanker?” Janus asked. “We remember perfectly well last week. We bought rounds and you didn’t.”
“Now, wait a minute,” Bill retorted. “I did so.”
“You’re embarrassing the lady,” Janus said.
“Actually, I…” Kate began, but Janus cut her off.
“See?” Janus said. “Look. She’s beet red. Now be a good photographer and get us some drinks.”
Bill sighed deeply.
“Okay,” he said gloomily. He took the drink orders and went off to the bar.
“You know, he really did buy the round last time,” Janus told Kate. He absentmindedly crushed his finished cigarette in the ashtray at the table.
Quinn rolled his eyes again, but chuckled.
“Don’t feel too bad for Bill, Kate,” he said. “Janus may have tricked him this time, but he does have a habit of sneaking out on paying for drinks.”
By the time Bill returned, the band had taken the stage and begun.
To her surprise, Kate found herself enjoying the whole evening. It was true that neither Bill nor Janus were exactly gentlemen, but they were fun guys. A half dozen times during the evening they started arguing, with topics ranging from which country had the best soccer team to the best restaurants in Leesburg.
Quinn, meanwhile, took turns occasionally joining in and then mocking them to Kate right afterward.
For a moment, she felt like she had always been there, sitting at the table, watching the three of them make jokes. It was a remarkably warm feeling, like she belonged here. Like she had never left. She smiled to herself. Maybe this had been why she came back-to escape the ghosts of the past.
But the feeling receded like a wave and she shivered in the hot, smoky room. What had happened she wasn’t sure, but suddenly, Kate didn’t want to be there anymore.
“Want another round?” Janus asked when the band had finished its set. “Numb-nuts here will buy.”
“I swear to almighty God if you call me that again, you short little…” Bill said.
“You’ll what? Come on, you’ll what?”
Quinn sighed and looked at Kate.
“Seriously, do you want anything?” he asked.
She shook her head and looked at her watch.
“Actually, I should get going,” she said.
“See what you did,” Janus said, and looked accusingly at Bill.
“Well, if you hadn’t been acting like a jerk, I’m sure she would have stayed,” Bill replied.
“It’s been a great night, guys, it really has,” Kate said, and stood up. She lifted her jacket off the chair back.
“Well, I was thinking of leaving, too, you mind if I walk with you?” Quinn asked.
Janus nudged Bill in the stomach and both men chuckled. In a not-so-subtle move, Quinn extended his middle finger and scratched his eye with it. They took the hint, but chose to ignore it.
“Sure,” she said, and glanced only briefly at Quinn.
“See you guys later,” she said. Quinn waved and the two walked out the door.
Kate pulled her jacket closer to her and shivered in the night air.
“God, it got cold,” she said.
“Yeah,” he responded.
“You don’t need to walk me home,” Kate said, though in truth she felt like some company.
“It’s all right,” he said. “I could use the exercise.”
He paused a minute.
“So I hope you had a good time tonight,” he said.
“I did,” she replied. “I really did.”
She opened her mouth to say something more, then shut it. She liked Quinn, but what did she really know of him? It was unwise to say too much. It would raise questions she did not want to answer.
“Good. It’s tough when you join up with a new paper. New editors, new beats. But we’re a nice bunch. At least some of us are, at any rate.”
Kate laughed. “Who isn’t very nice?” she asked.
“You don’t want to hear me gossip, do you?” he asked.
“Sure,” she said. “I’m dying for some good gossip.”
“Well, Helen you know about,” he said.
“Rebecca seems kind of controlling too,” Kate said.
“She is that, but she is also good at her job,” he said. “Helen… well… Helen is good at coming up with ideas for other people. And Ethan thinks she just walks on water.”
“Who’s Ethan?” she asked.
“Ethan Holden-the owner of Holden Inc.,” Quinn said and laughed. “You’ll meet him soon enough. He is a piece of work. He pays us shit, then demands at every meeting that we need to work harder-with substandard equipment and crappy benefits.”
“Seems like a great guy,” Kate said.
“He also doesn’t have a backbone,” Quinn continued as they walked. “Last year, I had a great story about Paul Gibson, who is now the chairman of the board of supervisors. I had sources who told me he had taken money from developers on the side, all the while promising that he would stop development in the county. But Ethan wouldn’t let Laurence run it. Or at least that is what Laurence claims…”
“Why not?” she asked.
“Paul and Ethan are friends, of course. Ethan is friends with all the local politicians. Hell, he knows Senators Mark Warner and George Allen personally. He is one of the wealthiest guys in the state and gave pretty decently to their campaigns.”
“And Laurence didn’t stand up to him?”
“One thing I should warn you-in this job, don’t expect much support from Laurence,” he said. “Rebecca will fight for you, but Laurence would lose a boxing match against a one-legged man in a wheelchair. I’ve only seen him
