Lucas Walker's hand grasped the door handle, but he didn't turn it open, merely asking with his back to him.
"So... do you owe me two glasses of red wine?"
"Of course not." Phoebe lightly swirled the glass in her hand, "Because of your wife, I also lost a set of bone china dinnerware, that should count against your tab... Oh, and a chair, made of yellow pear wood."
Lucas Walker chuckled softly, turned around, and looked at him.
Phoebe raised her hand and drank the wine dry, walked back to the bar, filled both of their glasses, raised his glass again, and held it up in midair.
His eyes swept over his face, then to the fingers holding the wine glass, Lucas Walker took a deep breath.
Finally, he stepped over and took the glass from his hand.
Phoebe raised her hand.
He also raised his hand.
The two glasses clinked crisply in midair.
...
...
In the room across the corridor.
