Page 57 of My Soul for Sale

“Not thrilled. I want you with me twenty-four-seven, but I get it.”

“Good.” I clap my hands. “Now to rip off another bandaid, so there are no secrets between us. The only way this is going to work is if we stay honest. I bought a German Chocolate cake for dessert, and when I was leaving the bakery I ran into Ali… literally. Oh, and I drove your truck, Rip, and gave her thirty bucks that you had in the glove compartment. I’ll give it back as soon as I get to an ATM to pull out some cash.”

Rip’s hand slams down on the table. “What the hell do you mean, you ran into Ali? Are you okay? Did she hurt you? Say anything?”

“She told me I was a mouthy brat as a child. That she got the restraining order against you because you threw her out, so if she couldn’t have your money and acceptance, then neither could I. Then she told me she let the bank take Grandma’s house and asked if I had any cash.”

“I’ll ask again. Are you okay?” Rip growls, his jaw tensing and his nostrils flaring.

“I’m fine. She didn’t bother me… that much. Do I wish I had a different mom? Yes. I wish I had a mom to call and share things with and ask for her advice. But I don’t, and I never have. It is what it is.”

“She saw you in the truck, so she knows we’ve reunited. Did she say anything about you driving my truck?”

“Nope. She just asked why I was, and I told her it was none of her business. And she said you’re fucking him, aren’t you? That’s it.”

“Wait!” I slap a hand to my forehead. “She also knows where I work. Apparently, Trina told her I close. But she’s known it for a while now and has never once stopped by there to bother me. That’s unlike her.”

“What the hell is with people sharing personal information?” Atlas’ forehead tightens and his breathing gets heavy.

“We fired Amber today for telling Jenna where we were.”

“Too bad I can’t fire Trina. I don’t own the bar, so I’m stuck with her.” I frown slightly.

“Buy it.” Rip shrugs.

“Buy what?” I tilt my head, looking at him.

“The bar. You still have some of the money, right? We’re not charging you for the remodel. So offer the owner cash for the bar and see if he sells. What can it hurt?”

I do love my job and the Iced Rose. Owning my own bar would be a dream and I already know the area and clientele there. I could update and make changes without fucking up business too much. It can’t hurt to ask, can it?

“No, it can’t.” Atlas smiles.

Shit, I said that last part out loud.

“Okay, tomorrow I’ll make Kevin a cash offer. But the bar is gonna need some work too, so if he accepts, will you work for IOUs? Momma will be running light on cash then.” I laugh.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Sloane

Blowing out a breath, I push open the door to the bar and step inside. The scent of old beer and whiskey greets me. The jukebox croons out tunes from another era, its speakers delivering a soundtrack of blues, rock, and country. A neon sign advertising daily specials glows over the eclectic assortment of decor on the walls.

Regulars perch on well-worn bar stools, nursing their drinks as they talk or sing along with the jukebox.

Behind the bar, Trina wipes down a glass with a rag, her beady eyes locking on me, instantly filling with disgust. In the corner, a game of pool is being played and I look away from Trina to see who is winning.

“Moonie! How are you tonight?” I ask as he hits the cue ball with his pool stick.

“Doing good, baby. You closing us down tonight?”

“Sure am. Once bitchy pants leaves, I’ll buy you a shot.” I wink and he throws his head back, laughing.

As I walk past the long end of the bar, Trina walks with me but behind the bar.

“You’re here early. What’s the deal?” She narrows her eyes.

I stop and look at her. “Nothing bad. I just need to talk to Kevin.”

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