Page 24 of Accidental Baby Daddy

Clayton was serious about that, and I knew it. He picked his staff carefully, and almost everyone that worked at the Pig had been there five plus years. Most more than a decade. Krista was a new hire but that was rare.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. The Pig is known all over for being the best diner/dive bar combo in Wagontown.”

Clayton laughed. “Theonlydiner/dive bar in Wagontown.”

“Exactly. And you have a great staff and reputation.”

He nodded. “Write up an offer, and email it to me, yeah?” He slid a business card across the desk and I took it, putting it in my wallet. “And Oliver?”

“Yeah?”

“You really should let it go. It’s been, what, nearly ten years?”

I nodded, swallowing hard. He was right. I should let it go. Even Tristan was right—Lexie wasn’t mine anymore. Heck, she really hadn’t ever been mine.

I walked out of the bar, not spotting Tristan again. He’d always been a coward, never owning up to what he did.

I called Peter, my personal assistant, and he answered on thefirst ring.

“Hey, boss.”

“I want to buy the Pig in the Poke,” I told him. “Send over an email to Clayton Huggins. I’ll send you his business card.”

“Offer above asking price?”

“Always.”

“All right. Anything else?”

I paused. “You want to go out for dinner?”

It was nearing six in the evening and I was starving. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

“Sure,” he said easily. “Where?”

“How about Hart’s Cafe? They’ve got a great French dip.”

“Meet you there,” he said, and I headed to the cafe, thinking that Peter was probably the closest thing I had to a true friend these days.

Peter showed up just a few moments after I sat down and ordered my French dip. He sat across from me and ordered one for himself.

“You never invite me out,” Peter said suspiciously. “What’s going on with you?”

I shrugged. “Nothing. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Colleagues, at best,” Peter said flatly.

I put a hand over my heart dramatically, as if I was hurt by his statement.

Peter laughed. “I’ve been working with you for what, eight years? And you’ve only asked me out to dinner maybe a handful of times. Mostly business related.”

“Not tonight,” I promised, dipping my sandwich after the server put it down on the table.

“So this is a friendly dinner?”

“Very friendly,” I replied, pausing while I chewed, then letting out a breath through my nostrils. “Fine. I don’t really have friends, and I needed to talk to someone.”

Peter raised his eyebrows. “And you chose me?”

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