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aggressive appreciation of home values, its restaurants and bars had not. The Refinery was one that led the charge, and still served a Sunday brunch that was hard to beat.  
    Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to wait, or to sit down for that matter, so I bypassed the line and entered the packed dining room. A few waitresses scurried around carrying plates of French toast and shrimp and grits. My stomach growled, but I didn’t have time to pay it much attention. I didn’t notice any familiar faces, but apparently one noticed me: “What’s up, Milo?”  
    I turned and saw a blonde in a black V-neck and tight jeans; her arms, like those of most of the waitresses here, sported some of Tampa’s finest skin art. I recognized the face now, but no name came to mind. “You looking for Val?” she asked.
    “Is she working?”
    She nodded toward the stairs. “Rooftop.”
    I finally remembered her name. “Thanks, Lydia.”
    She smiled you’re welcome, and I made my way up the rickety stairs, wooden steps that smelled and creaked like the church pews. Upstairs, the bar looked kind of lonely. A couple was sitting there with no drinks, probably waiting for a rooftop table to open up.
    The bartender asked if he could help me. I wasn’t ready for another beer, so I ordered a sweet tea with extra lemon, which he served in a Mason jar.  
    I was sipping my drink when Val entered the barroom. The door to the dining deck closed behind her, and a light sweat glistened on her brow. She gave me a quick smile and a wink before she dropped off an order at the bar. Her brown hair was tied in a tight ponytail. I wanted to reach over and squeeze her, but she was too busy and sweaty. “What are you up to today?” she asked me.
    “Just working.”
    “On a Sunday?” She shrugged and quickly topped off a few water glasses while she waited for the bartender. She didn’t seem content with my answer. “So what’s up?”
    “I’ve been looking for Rico.”
    She set a serving tray on the bar. “Have you ever seen Rico here?”
    “I’ve seen his sister here. And I haven’t seen Rico all week.”
    “Yeah, well.”
    “Well, what?”
    She was loading the tray with an assortment of pints and mixed drinks in Mason jars. “Well, he’s kind of upset with you.”
    “I thought so.”
    She hoisted the tray onto her shoulder and said she’d be right back.
    Call me impatient, but I followed her onto the dining deck. There were four picnic tables covered by a hint of shade in the form of beach umbrellas. Being a floor closer to the sun really made a difference in the heat. I slid on my sunglasses and felt my neck burning. Val grinned at the sight of me following her as she darted across the deck to deliver her drinks.
    “Excuse me, do you work here?” The voice came from the table closest to me, a foursome of pale twenty-somethings with faded T-shirts and bright tattoos. I guessed if I were ever to move to Seminole Heights, I’d have to get some body art myself.
    “I do not. But I slept in a Holiday Inn last night.”
    They apparently didn’t get the joke, but fortunately Val arrived and took over. They ordered another round of mimosas and wanted to know if the restaurant offered a gluten-free menu.
    I followed Val back into the barroom, where the cold air reminded me how much I had just sweated outside in one minute. Val dropped off the order and glanced at me again. “You get a break anytime soon?” I asked.
    “I told you I’d be finished in the early afternoon.” She was busy, but her azure eyes showed me some pity and affirmed that she missed me as much as I missed her. It took all I had not to plant one on her delicate lips, or those soft cheeks that never needed cosmetics.  
    “I’m sorry, I’m just worried about your brother. But now I’m curious what I did wrong.”
    She sighed, and then threw the bartender a stare that said this was private. “Yeah, apparently he wasn’t happy that you made such a big deal about the