Man. Those damn tits. Penelope… I shook my head, trying to push the thought out before it swallowed me whole.
Burney's place was packed, like always. A modern sort of cozy—white walls, steel beams painted black, and plants hanging in woven baskets up near the ceiling. Right in the middle sat an aquarium the size of a coffin turned sideways, lit with a soft blue glow. Tiny silver fish darted around inside, weaving through fake coral, drawing the eyes of anyone sitting close enough.
Tables circled the tank in neat rows: polished wood slabs on black metal legs. Some college kids typed on laptops, headphones in, nursing iced coffees. Two guys in suits whispered numbers to each other by the window. A couple made out in a booth like the world didn't exist.
