Page 57 of Loathe at First Sight

She raises her eyebrows. “Really? Jamie? I’m pretty sure I have bras older than that boy.”

“Ew,” I groan.

“Although Jamie may be good for some fun, I highly doubt you will find much use for him in the long term.”

“Who says I’m looking for anything long-term?”

“Eliza, you know what I mean.”

No, I really don’t.

She goes on. “I’m just saying that if you were to get with someone and give it an honest try, Jack wouldn’t be a bad one.”

“One, I don’t need you to play matchmaker for me. And two, we are in no way interested in each other. In fact, we drive each other crazy.” I pause for a sip of coffee. “Besides, with the way everyone around town talks about him, I’m sure he has a line of women who are anxious to go home with him. Heck, I saw a couple of them last night—Misty Jacobs being one of them.”

“Oh, there’s nothing going on between Jack and Misty.” She waves her hand as though pushing the ridiculous idea right out of thin air.

“And how exactly would you know that?”

“Eliza, I own a bar. I know everything.”

I stare at her, waiting for her to spill her secrets.

“Let’s just say that Misty went home with Jack once…and she’s been trying for a repeat show ever since. But he doesn’t seem interested. He shoots her down every time.”

“Okay, there’s no way you could know that.”

“I’ve watched her try over and over again while sitting at my bar.”

I think for a second. “I don’t know if I should say good for her or good for him. Jack’s an ass, but I’m not crazy about Misty either.”

“Maybe he’s holding out for something better.” She looks at me as though I’m the something she’s talking about.

“Or maybe you’re insane. Or maybe Misty just isn’t any good at it,” I tell her before changing the subject. “What are you up to tonight? You working?”

“Not tonight. Your dad and I are driving into Portland for the night. Just a little getaway.”

Man, together thirty years, and those two are still crazy about each other. My dad still finds ways to surprise my mom every chance he gets.

“That sounds like fun.”

“Yeah, it should be. Hey, while I’m here, I wanted to talk to you about something else.”

“Oh?”

“I talked to Esther this morning, and she said that there’s a pretty strong possibility that she’s going to sell the inn.”

“What?”

She taps her fingers on the table in front of her. “I guess she’s not in the best of health, and she’s worried she will eventually end up in a nursing home. She wants to have a nest egg set aside for that so that she doesn’t put the burden on her kids. And the inn isn’t bringing in a ton of money. She’d rather sell now while it still has some value left in it.”

“Wow,” I say, unsure how else I should respond. “Why hasn’t she told me?”

“Nothing is set in stone yet, and she wanted to wait until she made a decision before telling you. She knows you’ve been through a lot.”

I get that Esther’s gesture was supposed to be a kind one, but I can’t help but feel irritated. I finally get halfway settled with a place to stay and a job that is bearable. Turns out it’s going to be ripped away just like my old life was.

How many hits can one person take before they break?

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