Page 3 of Sack

Oz ignored that. “Who’s coming with me?”

“I’ll go.” Linc stepped back from his locker to sit on the padded bench to throw on his shoes.

“Colt?” Oz directed his way.

“No. I’m going to head home and go over the new plays.”

“All work and no play makes Colton a boring boy,” Linc sing-songed to his laces.

That was the second time that day he’d said something similar, and Colt had to admit, it irked while at the same time made him think.

“You need to eat.” Oz pleaded with his eyes.

Colt assured himself it was Oz’s look and not Linc’s words that had him changing his mind. He sighed. “Fine. Give me ten to shower.”

Ivy

Ivy repeatedly stabbed the broken button on her laptop’s keyboard. “No. Not now!” She picked up a pencil and used the eraser end to jab at the little dot that had once been covered with a letter tile. She just needed it to last until she was finished. Only a few more hours of work and she could bill her current client.

The Parting Glass was a new pub that had opened up downtown, and the owner, Emerson Kelly, had splurged for Ivy’s whole promotional package. It would be enough money for her share of two months’ rent, fill the empty fridge,andbuy the new laptop she’d been eyeing.

She was almost done setting up their website—if she could just get the kriffing L button to work. She jabbed at it one last time with the force of all her frustration. A line of L’s appeared on the screen.

“Gah.” She highlighted all but one and hit delete.

Tossing the pencil on the desk, she typed the rest of the sentence, then sat back to assess her handiwork. She was a tough critic, but even she had to admit it looked good. Anyone landing on the page would have no doubt The Parting Glass was an Irish pub.

Ivy clicked on the photos tab. The page was half full of pictures of the exterior and interior. She got a shot of the rustic, brick building, the outside patio seating area, and a close-up of the storefront sign. Inside shots were of the large oaken bar, gaming area—complete with pool tables and dartboards—and dining area.

Ivy scrolled halfway down the page, stopping when the photos came to an end. She wanted to fill the rest with more interior shots when the pub was open and full of people. Nothing drew customers better than displaying other people enjoying themselves.

Ivy checked the time. Almost five. She could be at the pub in time to get some good pictures of the dinner rush. Then after she loaded the photos, she just needed to add the menu and she’d be all set. Project completed.

Bank account fed.

The front door slamming had her swiveling in her chair and looking down through the banister slats to see Jason had come home. Their place was small—only one bedroom—which belonged to Jason. Ivy had designated the open upstairs loft as hers when they’d moved in four years ago. She used the majority of the space as her office but did have a queen-size bed crammed against the back wall.

“What are you doing home so early?” Jason usually got off at six and was never home before six thirty.

He stripped off his blazer and loosened his tie before flopping onto the couch. “Would you believe me if I told you I was sick?”

Ivy stood, went to the railing, and looked down. Jason’s hair was mussed like he’d been running his fingers through it and he did look a bit tired but other than that… She narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “Please don’t tell me you got fired.” It would be his third job in as many years.

Jason had anger management issues, but she’d had high hopes for his latest job. He’d been at his current position as a telephone sales rep for over eight months, and his boss really seemed to like him. Jason had charm and charisma when he chose to use it.

“The technical term is laid off.” He leaned his head back heavily against the couch to look up at her, the worry lines around his eyes prominent even from her high perch.

“What happened? I thought your boss liked you?” Jason was—even she had to admit—drop-dead gorgeous. His boss was female and didn’t feel threatened by that as some of his male bosses in the past had.

“Myoldboss did. Got a new one a few weeks ago.”

That was news to her. “So, what happened?”

He shrugged. “Nothing really. He’s had it out for me since he started.”

Ivy highly doubted thenothing reallypart, but she also knew she wouldn’t get the details out of him until he was good and ready to tell her. Which also might be never.

Sighing, she went downstairs and sat on the couch next to him, taking his hand. “I’ll be getting paid in a couple of days. That will tide us over until you find something else.”

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