Page 29 of Hart Breaker

I pull the bottle out of the ice bucket that I have it chilling in for Mom and the aunties to try it tonight. “Requiem.”

“Is that a musical genre?”

Pouring her a glass, I answer, “Mass requiem is.”

“Have you tried it, Brett?”

“Riley never offered.” He pushes his empty plate toward me.

“You didn’t like the first five attempts. I just assumed?—”

“I’d tell you it wasn’t good?” he asks. “Isn’t that what you want? Honesty?”

“Always,” I answer and leave it at that.

“Hmm,” he says, sitting back in his seat and crossing his arms.

“Honest is always the best policy,” Syd says, setting her glass back down on the bar. “And I honestly think this is delicious.”

He waves a hand toward her. “And see, we don’t always have to like the same things.” He pushes back in his barstool. “I hate to be?—”

“Foods up. All hands on deck!” Lo calls back to us.

I turn and head back, happy to be called to do busy work so that I don’t have to keep exchanging jabs with Brett.

I hurry back to the kitchen, and when I see Mickey, our head chef, wearing a Knights shirt and not one of the shirts from the bar we used to work at together a lifetime ago, it brings tears to my eyes.

Mickey sees my reaction, rolls his eyes, and nods to Lauren. I simply smile.

I feel a hand on my hip and turn to look behind me. “Little sis did good, huh?”

He’s been such an asshole lately when it comes to the team that I’ve all but forgotten the fact that when it comes to things that matter the most, Brett shows up, even emotionally, like right now. “Yeah.”

“We good?” he asks.

I don’t want to say yes, but I know I will. But I do hesitate long enough that he kisses my cheek before stepping back.

“All right, put me to work.”

The place is packed with every player on the roster, their families, and the New York Knights staff. If you add the die-hard fans who live here in Blue Valley, we’re at about five hundred people. Due to the size of Barn and the open-door space, there’s no concern we’ll be over capacity.

Boone’s here with my girl, Lily, and her mother, who seems nervous around the team, but who wouldn’t? Syd avoiding them makes my heart heavy, but Wednesday is only three days away, and we’ll most definitely over-talk that situation.

Hart’s sister, Jillian, who was supposed to work for us during events this winter but went and bought a flower shop and fell in love with one of her brother, Roman’s, Jerseys Jaguars MLB teammates, is even behind the bar. Hell, so is her man, Roman, his girl, their mother, and her boyfriend. We have four others on tonight, as we do every Sunday while in season, and we’re still three deep on all three sides of the bar.

The rest of us just keep refilling the chafing dishes with every family’s favorite comfort side dish and the best NY strip steaks we can find. That and clearing plates. So many plates.

After an hour, about half of the crowd has thinned, and at the end of the second hour, there are only about fifty people left, all of whom are players and the owners.

“How are you gonna top this when they win the NFC Championship game?” Jillian asks excitedly as she walks around to the other side of the bar.

“Just add seafood, live music, and hire about twenty more wait and bar staff.”

As she sits next to her boyfriend, she asks, “Are there that many people in this town?”

I point to the tip jar, which is shaped like a barrel and overflowing. “Anyone who’s ever worked here after a game walks out with a few hundred bucks for four hours, and that jar is never that full. I’m guess it’s almost triple. The local kids will be begging for a night. You’ll all get at least five hundred.”

“Oh, hell no, we’re not taking your money,” she says, as if offended.

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