Page 18 of Dreaming of Dawson

“It’s a long story, but it was nothing to do with my work. It was… It was personal.” In reality, it was a mixture of the two. I allowed the lines to get blurred… or rather, James did. But this isn’t the time to talk about that.

He steps back slightly, looking uncomfortable, and part of me feels sorry for him… sorry enough that I wonder if I should tell him what happened, just to put him out of his misery. It’s in the past now, and it can’t hurt me anymore.

Before I can decide where to start, he takes a breath and says, “How long have you been living here?”

“Since November. To start with, I just came here to get a break… to get away from it all. I wasn’t planning to stay. But then I found I liked the place, and after I’d fixed my aunt’s website, I got a job, working four mornings a week.”

“And you wanna give that up? Even though you’ve only been doing it for a couple of months?” he says, sounding surprised.

“No. That’s the last thing I want. I assumed the hours here would probably fit in and let me do both jobs at the same time. I enjoy working for Peony, and…”

“You work for Peony Hart?” he says, interrupting me.

“Yeah.”

I can’t help noticing that his face has paled slightly, and he reaches out, grabbing his coffee cup before he swallows down the rest of its contents.

“What do you do for her?” he asks.

“I help with organizing the weddings.” He rolls his eyes, which is even more interesting than the rest of his reactions. “Don’t you like weddings?” I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.

“Not anymore.”

I remember Aunt Bernie said his wife had left him, and I guess that explains a lot… like his surly demeanor, and why there’s a definite hint of bourbon around his coffee cup.

I want to ask if he’s okay, but I think it’s fairly obvious he isn’t. And besides, I don’t know him well enough for questions like that. Not yet.

“Is it gonna be a problem if I have two jobs?” I ask and he startles, like he’d forgotten I was here.

“No,” he says. “The only problem I have is that I don’t have time to train anyone. If you know your way around a bar, and can operate a credit card machine, then…” He stops talking and lets out a long sigh. “Could you come and work a shift with me tonight?” he asks. “I can see how you get along, and if it goes well, we’ll take it from there.”

I nod my head, the word, “Okay,” leaving my lips before I’ve even had time to think about all the reasons my answer should have been ‘no’.

Chapter Four

Dawson

Should I have done that?

Was it me, or those two large shots of bourbon talking?

It’s impossible to know these days.

But whichever it was, now that Macy’s gone, I can’t be sure I’ve done the right thing.

Sure, she seems like a perfect fit. She’s got experience, and while it’s not recent, like she said, you don’t forget what to do. Her age is about right, too. I’ve had some terrible experiences with people who are only just old enough to work in a bar, and while Macy didn’t actually tell me her age, it’s easy to work it out. If she was at college roughly four years ago, then I’m guessing she’s around twenty-six, or maybe twenty-seven. Even after two large shots of bourbon, I’m capable of basic math.

On top of all that, she’s a very beautiful woman, so I’m sure most of my male customers won’t have a problem being served by her… and my customers are predominantly male.

I guess that’s why I was surprised when she walked in here by herself. That’s not something that happens every day. People are more wary than they used to be… especially women. I don’t think my surprise had anything to do with the way her chestnut-colored hair hung loose around her shoulders, or the sparkle in her deep brown eyes. I’m fairly sure it had nothing to do with her slightly pinked cheeks, either, or the way her lips tipped upin an almost permanent smile… except when I asked how she’d gotten from being a web designer in Boston, to looking for work in a bar in Hart’s Creek. She looked kinda sad then, and that made me feel uncomfortable.

Still, her smile soon returned, and I imagine my customers will be pleased to see her cheerful face, rather than my sour one behind the bar. It’ll certainly make a change. I doubt they’ll object to her hourglass figure, either. She revealed that when she took off her coat, and even though she was sitting down, it was impossible to miss how good she looked… even in my jaded state.

So, why am I wondering about my sanity? Or my decision?

Because Macy works for Peony Hart, and she wants to keep on doing so, even if I employ her.

I know it’s silly of me to still have an issue with Peony. After all, it wasn’t her fault her ex-boyfriend and my ex-wife had an affair and left town together. I’m sure Peony was just as hurt as I was when it happened… even if she and her ex didn’t have the same history as me and Stevie. They’d both deceived us. They’d hidden their affair for months and months, and I know how much that had to hurt. I felt it.

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