Fox: New Bar and Finding Titus
Fox kept tapping his pack of cigarettes against the counter. “You know, tapping it on the counter longer doesn't make more cigarettes magically appear,” Knox said. “There's a first time for everything,” Fox replied, crumpling up the pack and tossing it into the trashcan next to the bar. He was surrounded by books and making notes. “Not that I'm not glad to see you, but don't you usually spread out like this over at Gus's?” Knox said, setting another beer in front of him. Fox held up his pencil, pausing in thought. “I'm avoiding some people,” Fox replied, still staring at the page. “Angry woman that's going to bust in and cause a scene? Or angry people with weapons that are going to tear up my bar?” Knox asked. “Technically this is Wilson's bar.” Knox narrowed his eyes. “Okay. Okay. You can call it whatever you want,” Fox said in a miserable attempt to assuage Knox. Knox polished a glass and put it away. “Wher...