"Problem?" the suit asked.

Leo grinned. He reached under the counter, bypassed the entire digital system, and made the drink by hand. Blue, ugly, and honest.

"Make it something blue and expensive," the suit said, sliding a crumpled twenty across the wet mahogany.

He tapped: Cocktails → Signature → Blue Lagoon. The screen froze. Then flashed:

The bartender, a grizzled man named Leo who’d seen three divorces and one attempted robbery by a man with a spork, nodded slowly. He reached for the glowing touchscreen register—the new one management installed despite his protests.

The suit took a sip. "Wow. Complex."