Pablo's mind was elsewhere as he passed Slainté on the way to the office. He took a few steps past the door and stopped. He turned and walked back to the bar. Just one beer before closing out he day. He had one foot into the door when his shoulder collided with a muscular young man in riding leathers headed out.
"Sorry buddy," Sandoval murmured.
The man ignored him and straddled a Ducati that was parked on the street and pulled out into traffic.
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