Page 10 of The Promise Of You

“No, no. You’ve been the best to him for years. You were exactly what he needed, and he knows it, but he doesn’t know how to tell you. So this is me telling you thank you on his behalf. And on behalf of the whole community, for everything you do for us. Starting with your community dinners. They’ve been a game changer for a lot of people around here.”

Alright now, woman’s getting all mushy on me.

Gotta go.

“You’re so focused on making everyone happy, you’ve lost sight of making yourself happy. So please, take a moment. Soon. Do something different. Look out for yourself. Do something selfish. Please.”

Got a tall order of selfish stuff to do right about tonight, but I’m not discussing that with her, and not here.

“Yeah. I better get going.”

“Justin,” she orders, startling me. “You have to let the past go. You did nothing wrong. Stop punishing yourself.”

Fuck. I knew it. Total witch. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie, but her eyes hold mine longer than I care for before I finally find the strength to turn on my heels and leave, long strides taking me away from her store.

Colton is on his way back from the Henderson’s farm with smoked trout, but still a ways away, so I have just enough time to swing by the pub, give my dog, Moose, a belly rub, check in with my chef, and swing into my office to sort my mail.

Giving Moose a belly rub was a good call. Always is.

Checking in with Shane, my chef, isn’t the same as petting my dog, but on a different scale, it scores just about as high. Shane knows what he’s doing, he’s been trained to run things way more sophisticated than a pub in the middle of nowhere, and he enjoys the lack of pressure and the freedom I give him. That means he deals with whatever kitchen problems arise like the freaking adult he is, which is, believe it or not, rare enough in this industry to be noted as a bonus point.

Now, going through my mail was not a good call. My tenant’s check was returned with insufficient funds. That’s three times in as many months. Three months that the fine dining restaurant next door to my pub, located in the large building I own, has defaulted on their payment.

I should have broken the lease sooner. Should have found any excuse to drive this fucker out of town. People might say the bad blood between us is ancient history, but it doesn’t feel that way to me.

He never should have been here in the first place.

Now I’m fucked.

He must have sent the check right before it happened. I heard he had a heart attack.

I can’t decently break the lease of a new widow. Not until I know what her circumstances are, if this was her only source of income. I can’t hold her responsible for the sins of her husband.

I hear Cassandra’s voice in my head again, and I know being selfish is the voice of reason, but I’m at least going to give this widow a little time to get sorted before I ask for what’s due to me.

This month is going to be tight. Not something I like. Another reason to look forward to tonight, before I go back to reality.

Hotel bars in big cities offer just the right amount of anonymity.

A place to hide and be a different person. A place where no one knows your name. A place where you can be totally yourself, or an entirely different person.

That’s where I find the most interesting women. The most interesting experiences.

The only ones I allow myself.

Take tonight.

It’s hot outside, a storm brewing, but cool inside. There’s a food and beverage conference starting tomorrow at this hotel. No one knows anyone else yet.

I’m following Chris’s show on my phone, but my intention is already set on the stunning woman with dark brown hair and blue eyes sitting at the end of the bar, legs crossed, her eyes fixed on her screen, earbuds in. She’s chatting on her phone. She looks a little sad, closed off.

She’s not looking for a hookup.

I like a challenge.

She frowns and taps her earbuds as the sound comes in and out of her phone. Purses her lips as her frustration mounts.

Man, she’s sexy. She’s wearing a tight skirt with a slit on the side and a sleeveless blouse. She dropped the matching jacket a while back, once she hit the midway mark on her Jack Daniels.

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