Why couldn’t she be honest with herself? She knew, from the moment she’d left the house, where she was going. Two blocks over she found it. La Noche. The sign was a wolf howling into the moon. She felt like a wolf on the prowl.
She pushed through a group of young men sharing a joint at the front door. Trendy Guadalajara youths hunched around intimate café tables playing dominoes and looking cool.
She heard him before she saw him.
A smiling waiter found an empty table in the corner close to the band. “Cómo estás, señorita? What can I get you to drink?” Two boys at the table beside her, still wearing their shorts from the beach, looked her up and down with half-closed bloodshot eyes.
“What’s a pretty girl like you doing here without a boyfriend?”
“Why? You want to apply for the job?”
The one with dreadlocks…
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