Red Derby is crawling with people, considering it’s just a random Tuesday night. I sit on a stool on Carlos’s usual side of the bar and order a local IPA. When I’ve nearly finished my first beer, I start worrying that Carlos ditched tonight’s happy hour.

When I’m about to get up and leave, there’s a firm clap on my back.

“All the times I badgered you to come down here, and you just show up unannounced?” he says with a smile as he takes the seat next to mine. The bartender asks Carlos if he wants his usual, and he nods. “I’ve got to know what’s up.”

I take a swig of my beer, watching the condensation drip down the side of the can. “Nothing’s up,” I tell him. “Just wanted to blow off some steam.”

Carlos raises a brow like he knows I’m lying.

Since I left the coffee shop this afternoon, I’ve been feeling a nagging guilt in my gut that I can’t get rid of. A 10-mile run didn’t help, an hour with the punching bag didn’t make it go away. I thought it might disappear if I came down here and broke out of my routine, but so far? Nothing.

The bartender sets down Carlos’s drink.

When he walks away, I say, “I was a dick to someone today.”

“You?” Carlos says with a laugh before he takes a drink. “Never.”

I shrug, not feeling up to any banter tonight. “I…I feel terrible about it.”

“Man,” he says, shaking his head as he fiddles with the tab on his can. “I don’t know what’s up with you lately. You’ve been on edge the past few months, which is why I’ve been trying to get you to come out and let loose. And all I know is that you were working on all these interesting cases before, and now you’re practically on desk duty.”

Carlos is too observant for my own good, but I guess that’s what I came here looking for tonight.

But he’s not done talking yet. “Now, I’m not going to ask you what happened because you clearly don’t want to talk about it. But you need to get your shit together, my friend. Life’s too short for you to walk around being an unhappy asshole.”

He breaks off his tab and tosses it in front of me with a laugh. Reluctant as I am to admit it, I know he’s right.

“Look at me,” Carlos says, leaning back on his stool and stretching out his arms. “I got a good job, a good life, a good friend…got a girl waiting for me at home now. Life couldn’t be better.” He claps me on my shoulder. “I want that for everyone!”

All that might be too much for me right now, but going after one or two things might not be so bad.

“Maybe you have a point.”

He sighs. “Ain’t no maybe about it. There’s a point, and I have it.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Okay, okay.”

“Listen,” he says, reaching for his beer. “If you feel terrible about being an asshole, you probably have a reason to. So you should apologize for it.”

“It’s a work thing,” I explain. “I’m not sure how far an apology is gonna go.”

“Try anyway. And if you can help her out, help her out.”

“How do you know it’s a her?”

Carlos smirks. “I know.”

I think about it for a few seconds, piecing together the beginning of a plan to make things right with Alexa. “Let me see what I can figure out.”

“Good man.” Carlos stands and throws a couple bills on the bar. “Let’s get out of here and go down to Atomic. I’ll kick your ass at darts. You need a distraction so your brain doesn’t overheat while you come up with an apology.”

Asshole. I take out my wallet and settle the tab.

Trying to take my mind off this for a little while can’t hurt.