Page 28 of Bidding War

“I cannot believe you’re doing this.”

“What else am I supposed to do? You know why I’m here.”

She nods. “I think it’s great, June. But what about long-term?”

“For once in my planned-out, high-pressure life, I am not planning ahead. No thoughts about long-term. I am going with the flow and working just enough to pay my bills. I am taking a break from the career stuff, and I am completely at peace with it. And life in general, to be honest. In fact, I think I’ve reached some kind of homeostatic Zen state. I have never been so relaxed and calm as I am right now.” Maybe my smile is a little smug, but I kind of feel sorry for Callie, who is still stuck in the rat race.

“What about Anderson?”

Tears spring out of my eyes like fireworks, and I lose my shit. There goes my calm.

15

JUNE

After Callie’s millionth apology text, I finish getting ready for the next day’s shift. I know she didn’t mean to upset me. But she accidentally asked a question I’m not prepared to answer.

I brush my hair and wonder what the answer really is. What about Anderson? The truth is, I just don’t know. Things are messy, and I end up with my brush tangled in my hair when I think too hard about him. As if I needed another sign.

Once I finish getting ready, I’m out the door and at the bar before I know it. It’s early, so there’re just a few people at the bar. Kelsey introduces me to the new regulars. They seem great. Things flow easily at the bar again—even easier than the first night, actually. Kelsey notes, “You’re having fun, aren’t you?”

I chuckle. “Yeah. I am. How can you tell?”

“You look happier today than you did when you came in here that first day.”

I smile and shrug. “Part of it is I’m enjoying myself. Part of it is knowing I’ll be able to pay my bills. And the other part of it is this place is like a sabbatical or something. I’m not stressed out by work for the first time in years, Kel. It’s wonderful.”

“Glad to hear it.” He pauses to serve some cosmos to two cougars on the prowl. “Think you’d be interested in picking up some more shifts? I know you said you only wanted a couple to get your feet wet, but your feet look pretty wet, June.”

I want to say yes. But I know better. “I’m good for now. But if that changes, I’ll let you know.”

He nods and attends his side of the bar while I take care of mine. It’s like a dance, and all the steps come back to me easily. I really am enjoying myself, much to my surprise. Never thought I’d return to tending bar. Not in a million years. But it’s like a vacation from my real life, and a desperately needed one.

Here, I’m not the failed tax attorney. I’m not Anderson West’s ex. I’m not the woman who faked a kidnapping after really being taken. At the bar, I’m just June. A decent bartender with a nice rack and an easy smile. My recent string of questionable choices doesn’t matter. Only that I keep the drinks coming.

It’s easy to get swept up in the rhythm of the bar to ignore how overwhelmed I’ve felt. Working here is comfortable, like an old college sweatshirt. Rough around the edges but familiar in all the right ways. Maybe that’s the real reason I lost my shit with Callie last night. She mentioned Anderson, and all of a sudden, I couldn’t breathe anymore. It brought everything back at once. As much as I felt overwhelmed by the circumstances that broke us up, though, I missed the shit out of him when she said his name. It was like a weight on my chest.

I still miss Anderson. And I still don’t know what to do about him.

But I can’t think about that right now. Right now, I’m slinging drinks. It is wall-to-wall, and we are packed. Some hockey game is on, so all the fans and haters are in the bar, cheering on their teams. Thankfully, most of them are beer drinkers, so it’s faster than mixing drinks. Just gotta pour, for the most part. That, and tapping the kegs, Kelsey drags up.

Every seat in my section is taken but one on the far end, which gives me a space to feel like I can breathe. But when I turn around, it fills up a moment later. Dammit. I am still having fun, but there’s a certain zombie-swarm feeling to the proceedings. Like we’re surrounded, and instead of, “Brains!” these zombies cry out, “Beer!”

I can’t even make my way to the new patron yet—too swamped with others' orders. But I need to keep him happy, so before I can even make eye contact with the newbie, I ask, “What can I?—"

“June, it’s me.”

I blink over at him and get hit by a fifty-thousand-watt smile. “Oh my gosh, Neil? What are you doing here?”

“When you texted me earlier, you said you were picking up a shift here?—"

“Right, right. I forgot.” I gesture around me. “It’s a little hectic.”

“Don’t let me slow you down.”

“You’re on deck. What can I get you?”

“Right. I’m in your section. Um, a porter?—"

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