Page 32 of Bidding War

His words shoot fear through me. “What’s gotten into you?”

“You invited me for a nightcap. I know what that means, June.”

“Fine. Then you’re uninvited. Leave. Now.”

But instead, he pushes me against the wall. Hard. But I’m close to the wall, so it doesn’t hurt much. “Don’t make me repeat myself. You do not tell me what to do. I tell you. Do you understand?”

Fuck.

17

ANDERSON

EARLIER THAT NIGHT

Is it healthy to watch your ex at work? No. Is that going to stop me from doing it? Also no.

It didn’t take long for me to figure out where June has been working. Not when I’ve been randomly circling her building every other day when I’m not working with Moss. She hoofed it to a dive bar, and since June is not much of a drinker normally, I tailed her just to make sure she was okay. Seeing her behind the bar instead of in front of it was a shock. But she looked completely at home there, laughing with drunks and chatting up the staff like she’d been born to it.

Like she had this whole other life that I knew nothing about.

It’s odd to think about. Did she hide this from me when we were together? I don’t see how. It must be a new development. Maybe she just fits in everywhere she goes. Must be nice.

Working with Moss has had a stiff learning curve.

I don’t mind it. Not really. He’s been good at teaching me the ins and outs of the work, and I pick up things fast. But still, I am out of my element. There is no way around it. Hopefully, the next ride-along will go as smoothly as June's new job goes for her.

It’s like watching Mozart conduct or a deer frolic. Someone doing the thing they are meant to do in the world. She is nothing but gracious smiles and easy laughter, even when she’s buried by drunks. Watching from across the street is peculiar. But under Moss’ tutelage, I’ve learned how to look like a tourist. It’s a great disguise—just dress oddly for the weather and try to take pictures with my camera and curse up a storm when it doesn’t work, which is an easy way to use your zoom to see whoever you’re spying on. No one in Boston likes tourists, so no one even notices me.

I am careful not to stick around for too long, though. I keep a few changes of clothes in my car, which is parked around the corner. Every once in a while, I change something I’m wearing or add a new layer, and boom, I’m a whole new tourist. With the weather getting colder, it’s the perfect excuse to cover more of my face.

Standing around all night is weird. I’m being obsessive. I know I am. But I miss the shit out of June, and I need regular reminders why I’m putting myself through the crazy shit with Dad. It’s for her. It’s all for her. I have to pay her back. I have to get her back. That’s all there is to it. She means everything to me.

Even if I mean nothing to her.

I’d go into her bar if I thought she wouldn’t have me kicked out. So, if watching her from afar on my nights off is what I have to do to stay focused, then that is what I’ll do. And I do not like the way Green Sweater is looking at her. Like he’s as focused on her as I am.

He sits in her section and she approaches him like she does all her other patrons. But then she looks at him, and there’s a spark in her eyes I haven’t seen in far too long. My jaw and fists clench. I hate that she’s sparking with him. But maybe she’s gunning for tips. I can’t judge how she makes her money. That’s not fair. She’s doing the best she can.

When she takes her break with him, though, bile rises in my throat.

She’s moved on. No, maybe they’re just friends. Maybe he’s gay. Yeah, he looks like he could be—he’s twirling the end of her ponytail while they talk. Probably not gay. And as close as she’s sitting to him? Those coy glances. No reason for that other than her being into him.

She used to give me those coy glances. Shit.

The first thing to hit me isn’t loneliness. It’s something akin to anguish. Regret, maybe. The regret that I didn’t know how to fix things before they reached this point. Loneliness doesn’t hit all at once. Not in my experience. It never hits. It creeps in, dragging depression and aimlessness with it. Loneliness is slow. Regret is a speedy motherfucker, and right now, it’s overwhelming. The loneliness will come later, I imagine.

June is moving on, and I have no clue how to stop her. Or even if I should. I’ll still pay her, of course. Green Sweater has nothing to do with what’s gone on between us. I know I shouldn’t push my way back into her life. I should let her have her new happiness without me dragging her down. She deserves better than to be involved in the illegal, nefarious shit my dad is into. June deserves the world.

I can’t give that to her. Not anytime soon. So, I won’t stand in the way of her happiness with Green Sweater. It’s the least I can do right now. When the time comes when I can give her the world, I’ll try again. But it will have to wait until I’ve extracted West Media from Dad’s illegal dealings. Until then, I have to make peace with the fact that she will have guys buzzing around her. She’s a smart, gorgeous woman. Of course, she’ll attract guys. Especially working at a bar.

Backing off is the logical, kind thing to do.

So, why haven’t I walked away? I couldn’t walk away from June if I wanted to. But I won’t interrupt. I won’t make a scene or bug her. She can have all the guys she wants. I’ll obsess quietly and from a distance.

At the end of her night, Green Sweater leaves with her. He ties his scarf on her—cheeseball move—and they kiss. Well, shit. She likes the cheeseball, apparently. That’s a dagger in the heart if ever there was one. Then, they walk toward her place. Fuck, is he staying over? So soon?

Okay, it’s not that soon, but still.

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