Page 23 of Wish You Would

I tilted my head, wheels turning. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well.” He grinned one of his effortlessly charming grins. The one he probably used when he was in trouble with his fiancée. “I want your job.”

I frowned. “You looking to take my place, man?”

“Yes and no.” He rubbed his hands together and glanced at the ceiling as if searching for a new set of words. “I’d like to learn your job.” Pacing, he continued to speak. “I was thinking, since we’ve got a baby on the way, it couldn’t hurt to expand my horizons, so to speak. I’ve been in the kitchen for years, you know. And I’m good at my job. Damn good.” Here, he flashed another grin, which made me laugh. “I just figured, why not learn something new? Maybe make more money? Plus.” He stopped pacing and faced me. “You know the wine moms will love me.”

Laughing again, I inclined my head. “The wine moms would offer to leave their absentee husbands for you.”

“And they’ll prove it with hefty tips that’ll put Steph Jr. through college.”

“Or trade school. Or pay for a trip all across Europe. Or—”

“For sure, for sure,” he interrupted. “We’re not putting expectations on our kid, they can do whatever they want with their life.” His eyes twinkled as he said it, as if he was glowing from within. “The point is, kids are expensive, and I want mine to be taken care of.”

“I gotchu.” Folding my arms across my chest, I studied him. “Tell you what, let me talk it over with Vaughn.” He nodded, and I went on. “But I’ll say that I think it’s a great idea. You’re amazing with people, even if you tend to say what they don’t want to hear.”

“Which would make me a great bartender. The wise guy who talks sense into drunk people.” He gave me a once over. “Or sober people.”

“Shut it.” I gave his shoulder a shove. “I’ll let you know soon. And, hey.”

“Yeah?”

“Congratulations.” I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed. “You two are going to be amazing parents.”

“Thank you,” he said, his voice thick. My heart swelled, my eyes burned.

As we parted, I blinked away the sting of tears and sniffed. “Tell Vaughn soon, though, okay? He’d be so butthurt if he was the last to know.”

Dante wiped at his eyes and nodded, a watery laugh leaving him. “Yes ma’am.”

Then, as if we summoned him, Vaughn pushed through the back door that separated the stairs to his apartment from the bar. He slowed as he approached us, his dark eyes assessing. “What’s going on here?”

Almost in sync, Dante and I straightened our shoulders and shook our heads. “Nothing,” I said just as Dante said, “We good.”

Vaughn looked back and forth, suspicion darkening his expression. Dante looked my way, as if asking a silent question. I picked up on it and nodded. Tell him, I said silently. Then, I squeezed his arm as I walked past, heading to the front to get to work.

As I pushed through the door into the bar, I heard my brother make a surprised sound, followed by shouts of congratulations and laughing. I smiled, picturing the two men hugging as they celebrated this huge, happy change in Dante’s life. In all of our lives, I guessed. In nine months, we were going to welcome a new member into our little found family. And if that wasn’t the sweetest idea, I didn’t know what was.

My thoughts were interrupted by the buzz of my phone in my back pocket. Grabbing it, I glanced at the screen. A text from Halle.

I stared at her name, smile falling from my face. She could be texting me for anything. Or nothing. The message could be as simple and unimportant as a meme or a bit of gossip about a former classmate. It could be nothing.

But my gut said otherwise.

Inhaling, I swiped my screen unlocked and read the message.

I know we talked about this, it said. BUT! New girl fell through. Gig tonight at Old Church. I. Am. BEGGING.

My heart leapt into my throat. Fixating on the praying hands emoji at the end of her text, I let the words sink in.

Old Church was a cool spot in uptown Port Agnes. A church turned bar. The acoustics there were incredible. For a moment, I let myself picture it. Saying yes. Showing up. Taking stage. Singing in that amazing space. And, shit. It was a good picture.

If only I didn’t have to work tonight.

Everything in me deflated. I sagged against the counter, heart sinking straight to my toes. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to rein in the storm of emotions raging through me. The battle between what I wanted and what I had to do. The need—the desperate, clawing need—to be selfish and chase the high of happy again.

But that had taken me nowhere good last time. I was still undoing the damage.

---