"You don't mind, do you?" Wade asked with a taunting smile...
Zack minded. That much was obvious from the way his fingers tightened around his beer bottle. But he said nothing.
Wade picked up one of the skewers, studied it for a moment, then set it back down as if it had failed some private standard.
"I remember when you had standards," he said to Zoey, his voice carrying the easy cruelty of someone who had practiced this conversation in his head more than once. "Every Friday, Apex Dining. You remember? Private room, river view. My Minimum spend is five hundred dollars. And with it's quality, you never once complained about the food."
He smiled at her, nostalgic, almost gentle, like he was reminiscing about something they'd both lost.
"What happened? Why this? What's this trash Standards?"
The question lingered in the air.
