Page 34 of The Hot New Bartender in Town

“Dad—”

“But she’s not,” he says, plowing over my protest. “She left us, Junior. She left me. After twenty years together, she broke my heart, and Tanya is the first woman I’ve met since willing to pick up the pieces. I don’t expect you to understand that. You’re too young to have had your heart broken and I sincerely hope you never do. You don’t have to like this. All I ask is that you accept it.”

“Just like you accepted me dropping out of school and moving down here?” I counter.

He looks me over, then nods. “How about we agree to try and meet each other in the middle?” he says, taking a breath. “Should be easier to do going forward. I’m moving down here, too.”

I frown. “You hate small towns.”

“Yeah, well, I love her,” he says. “And Pleasant Place seems less pleasant by the day.”

To that, I nod. The place is full of memories I gladly left behind, too.

“Tish.”

I flinch. “Huh?”

“Tanya’s daughter,” he says. “Tanya mentioned she sings.”

In his pause, I shrug casually, pretending I don’t already know that. “Cool,” I say.

“I thought that, maybe, it might be nice if the two of you played something together at the reception,” he says. “As a wedding gift for my new wife.”

I nearly scoff. “I thought my music was a waste of time,” I say, quoting him directly.

He touches his chest, then points at me. “Me. You.” He gestures into the empty space between us. “Middle.”

I wave a hand, getting his point. “Fine. Do you have a song preference?”

“Endless Love.”

I wince.

“I know,” he says, understanding. “But it’s a favorite of Tanya’s and I’ll owe you one.”

“All right. I’ll... see if I can get in contact with Tish and set something up,” I say, thinking fast.

“Well, she works at a diner. Bruno’s.”

“I know it.”

“Maybe start there. Or, you know, it’s Small Town,” he jokes. “Ask some rando on the street, they’re sure to point you in the right direction.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Thank you.”

Dad gives the apartment another once-over, this time actually attempting to hide his shame. I wish I could say I stopped caring about that a long time ago, but truthfully, I’m not sure I ever will. There will always be a part of me desperate for his approval.

Because… no matter how shitty he may seem sometimes, in the end, he’s the one whostayed.

“Well,” he murmurs, taking a step back toward the door. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

“Dad.” This time, I put a little feeling into it as I say, “Congratulations.”

He blinks to show surprise, then smiles. “Thanks.”

We say nothing else.

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