Arthur didn't hesitate. He slid two twenties and a ten onto the sticky linoleum. He clutched the bottle to his chest like a rescued orphan and hurried out into the cool evening air. He felt like a high-stakes thief, though he had a receipt to prove his innocence.
The dusty neon sign of "Bernie’s Discount Liquors" flickered like a dying heartbeat. Inside, Arthur adjusted his spectacles, staring at a bottle that looked entirely out of place between the plastic jugs of vodka and the dusty cans of tomato juice. It was a 2012 Dom Pérignon, its shield-shaped label gleaming with an aristocratic arrogance. The price tag beneath it read forty-nine dollars. buy dom perignon cheap
Arthur knew a bottle of Dom usually cost five times that. He checked the seal; it was intact. He checked the foil; it was crisp. He looked at Bernie, who was currently busy trying to peel a lottery ticket with a greasy thumbnail. Arthur didn't hesitate