Page 16 of The Red-Hot Stakes

“Walk for me.”

I glanced around for a walkway. Seeing none, I shrugged and did my best. I weaved between racks of dresses and clothes, then pivoted and walked back. Avery and Rhonda chatted from somewhere in the vast room. The clothing muffled their words, but their tones carried to me, and Avery sounded concerned. I dropped my partial smile while she was out of sight, trying to conserve my limited energy.

As I made my way back to Selena, I wished I could find a piece of the joy that used to live within me, the person who’d get excited over shopping or visiting Avery’s treasure trove of a storage room. Where have I gone? I felt like a porcelain doll as the assistants stuffed me into dress after dress after dress.

Stiff. Cold. And unfeeling.

Avery reappeared, beaming at Selena’s latest pick. “Gina, that’s gorgeous. And that color would work well for Rhonda, too.” She held the phone out for Rhonda to see.

Our friend squealed. “I love it!”

I looked in the mirror, wanting to feel the excitement I saw in them. Wishing I could muster up something. Anything. But all I saw was my frozen expression staring back.

* * * *

We bought that dress. Selena had Rhonda’s measurements and assured us it would be divine on her. Avery was thrilled to check that off the list. We met Liam and Derek for an early dinner at a nearby Italian place before my shift at The High Five. Derek kissed Avery hello, even as Avery glanced worriedly at me. I tried not to roll my eyes.

The hostess sat us in a booth, which was great for Derek and Avery, who snuggled together on one side. But I wasn’t in the mood to snuggle. Especially with Liam.

Reluctantly, I slid in first. Liam followed, his big burly self taking up more than his fair share. I elbowed him, wanting enough space so I didn’t have to smoosh against the wall. He shifted a miniscule amount.

Derek asked how the dress shopping went, but I tuned out as I unfolded the menu, only to bump into Liam’s muscular arm. What is with him? Does he not know the meaning of personal space? I pressed my lips together, remembering how’d he taken over the couch. A flicker of annoyance brushed through me, but that was all the emotion I could muster.

I scooted closer to the brick wall, but he just followed me. When I tried to turn the page of my menu, it caught on his elbow. Feeling cornered and caged in, my spark of frustration ignited into a burst of fury. I turned and put my hand on one of his thick biceps then shoved. “Give me some space, would ya?”

One corner of his mouth tipped up as he scooted away. “Thatta girl,” he whispered, low enough so only I could hear.

* * * *

I racked my brain for other living situations as I walked to work on Wednesday. I loved my best friend. Truly, I did. And Derek was great, but they were both so awkward around me. No one needed that kind of pressure, especially with the wedding right around the corner.

I didn’t have much in the way of family. I couldn’t afford my own place, not unless I wanted to be up to my nose in debt with tuition. Then I’d never be able to buy a bar of my own.

It was my turn to open at work. By the time I arrived, my head hurt, and I shoved my lack of options aside. I noticed the upstairs office lights were on as I stepped in, but the kitchen was dark so I flicked on the switch, the fluorescents humming to life. After I tucked my purse and jacket in my cubby, I stopped stock still to stare at the space between the bar and the kitchen.

The uneven gap was gone. Instead, a smooth ramp sloped between the floors, no uneven surfaces in sight. Liam had done it. Annoyance hit me. I’d worked here for three years with no results, and he waltzed in with one threat, one name drop. Poof, done.

And he wasn’t even there to glare at. I popped in my earbuds, listening to the Les Misérables soundtrack. It fit my mood—heavy. I got lost in prep work, pulling down chairs, setting up the mic, turning on the oven and lining up glasses.

Crouching in front of the cupboards, I checked the stock on the lower shelves when a hand clamped onto my shoulder. I yelped, nearly falling backward, but two strong arms caught me, hauling me to my feet.

I knew it was Liam before I whirled around. His scent hit me first, lingering in my nose as his hands lingered on my waist.

Angrily yanking my earbuds out, I demanded, “What are you doing here? Why is it always you?”

“I had a meeting with Weston, saw you there and couldn’t resist scaring the crap out of you.” Mischief danced in his eyes, and his lips curved in a smug smirk.

My cell phone rang before I could respond. I glared at him, moving away as I answered.

It was Sarah. “My babysitter canceled at the last minute. I’ve called everyone I can think of and no one’s available.” Her three-year-old son, Max, was adorable. “I could try to bring him with me…”

I thought over my homework load, which was fairly light this week, so I could stay later than usual. The only big issue I faced was doing dishes, and I stared down at my bandage. Maybe Wyatt could—

My phone was snatched out of my hand.

“Don’t worry, Sarah. I’ll cover for you.” Liam raised his eyebrows as if daring me to contradict him. “Yeah, this is Mr. Green Eyes. Yep, I can handle it, and Gina can show me the rest.”

What is he doing?

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