Page 40 of Wish You Would

Pride warmed me as I watched Dante schmooze the group of wine moms decked out in their ’90s finest. This was his first Patti Mayonnaise show on this side of the bar. Kai’s first one running the kitchen alongside Artie. Tonight, I was on hover-duty. The plan was to hover between the bar and the kitchen, pitching in where I was needed. It was the first real test for both my bebes.

I had a good feeling about it.

The good feeling turned to acid in my stomach the moment my eyes snagged on two figures standing near the foot of the stage. In the dim light, I could make out Halle’s hand on Parker’s shoulder, and Parker’s glimmering smile as she laughed at something Halle said.

It was good, I told myself. Perfect, even. Job well done. I’d done what I set out to do. What Parker had asked me to do. If their body language was anything to go by, the two women were well on their way to a first date.

Good. Great. A first date.

Nodding to myself, I reached for the napkin dispenser and popped it open. Forcing my eyes away from the laughing women, I ripped open a package of napkins and stuffed them into the dispenser.

Once the moms had their drinks in hand and were headed for their seats, Dante turned back toward me. “So,” he said, dark eyes assessing. “You gonna tell me what the stank face is about?”

“What are you talking about?” I slammed the dispenser shut and set it back in its place. “My face is perfectly fine. Not stank at all. It’s…fragrant, even.”

“Uh huh.” He looked me over, disbelief blatant on his face. “If you stared at your girl any harder, she—”

“Whose girl?” I cut in, turning my back to the bustling bar. “I don’t have a girl.”

“Uh huh.” He reached under the bar and pulled out a water bottle. After taking a long swig, he faced me again. “You really okay with what’s going on over there?”

I cast a quick glance over my shoulder. Halle was leaning in now, saying something close to Parker’s ear. As if I’d traded places with her, my next breath was filled with Parker’s scent. Cookie dough and strawberry shampoo. Something lurched beneath my ribs and I tore my eyes away.

“I’m fine.” I grabbed the dishtowel from the bucket under the bar and wrung it out with more force than necessary. “It’s fine.”

“There you go, scrubbing the polish off the bar again.”

“All right, you know what?” I threw the rag back into its bucket. “I’ve had about enough of your smartassery.”

Dante grinned one of those grins that would be cocky, except Dante was never cocky. He was just right.

“Fuck off,” I growled, pushing around him. “I’m gonna go check on the kid.”

Dante’s laughter followed behind me as I headed for the kitchen. And far, far away from whatever was going on with Halle and Parker.

The night was in full swing. Patti Mayonnaise had kicked off their show, and music pulsated through the space. Through my body.

Every time I came up front to help Dante with the bar, I very intentionally kept my eyes ahead, never letting them veer toward the stage. The band had restructured their usual setlist to accommodate their lack of a female lead singer. They sounded great, but with each song they left off the set, every compromise they made in arrangements for Ryan’s vocals, sat like an anchor in my chest.

It could’ve been me.

If only I’d said yes.

But, if anything had shown me that I’d made the right call by turning them down, it was this night.

While Dante and Kai were holding it down in their respective duties, they still needed an assist. Even our waitresses, who were pros at this point, needed help delivering drinks and food to patrons’ tables. It was a madhouse.

The harsh reality was: Heathcliff’s was a success. Long gone from the trickling business it was when I’d first come home. Now, there was hardly a slow night. Sometimes Wednesdays, but even then, we had our D&D campaigns before we officially opened.

So, yeah. The harsh, amazing reality was: Heathcliff’s needed me.

I wasn’t going anywhere.

Jogging back to the front, I greeted a handful of customers that had swarmed the bar. “Oh, my god,” I said, to the gorgeous Black woman dressed in crushed velvet as she approached. “I love your outfit!”

She smiled, wide and bright, eyes lighting on mine. “Oh, my god. Thank you!” she said, her dark eyes lingering on the low cut of my top. I knew what was coming before her gaze returned to my face. “Can I get a Sex on the Beach?” she asked, then bit her lip before adding, “And…your number?”

“I—” My reply died on my lips as a movement behind her shoulder caught my eye. Parker and Anya had returned from their dinner date and were weaving their way through the crowd to make their way upstairs. “Sorry, coming right up,” I finished with a half-smile at the pretty woman in front of me.

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