Page 93 of The Match Faker

“How? When?”

He chuckles against my chest. “Your mother gave Jasmine her cell phone number.”

“Oh. Of course she did.”

My brain is blank. I don’t know how this feels, how I feel about any of it.

He slaps my back, grinning. “So, what do you say? Ready to buy this bar?”

Dad sounds hopeful, because of course he does. He probably thinks it allmeanssomething, like Jasmine loves me, like all his dreams could finally come true: his second-oldest son will finally be a business owner and maybe even married.

He doesn’t know what I know. Jasmine left me. Twice. What Jasmine feels for me is guilt for lying, for coming here with Nick, for “losing” the bar for me, but not love. This is just what Jasmine does, helps others instead of caring for herself.

“I appreciate the offer, Dad,” I say, then take a deep breath. What I’m about to say next could completely undo our tenuousdétente. “I think figuring out what’s next is something I want to do for myself.”

21

JASMINE

Moonbar is packed. Good thing Jade is with me this time. Apparently, the announcement from two weeks ago that the bar is closing has done nothing to dissuade people from coming in. Maybe they think if they fill the bar every night, they’ll somehow save it from impending doom? Like this is a TV movie where the girl gets the guy and saves her family’s farm in her small town from financial ruin all in one closing scene. I wish it was.

I hope.

Normally, I wouldn’t invite my little sister to witness this, but she insisted. She’s “invested now,” she claimed. As if she hasn’t been sticking her nose in my business since birth. I’m somehow lucky enough to have snagged the same spot I had the first time I was here. There was only one stool available but Jade insisted I take it while she uses the bathroom.

Bernie shoots a smile at me across the lacquered wood surface between us as she takes a customer’s order. I wasn’t sure how she’d receive me, if Nick had told her what happened between us, but it seems he didn’t. Or if he did, they don’t seem to care. Ed certainly hadn’t been hostile when I showedup at his door earlier this week, Rocco hovering behind him. Miraculously, I was able to convince them that a) I was not a weirdo, b) they should let me in to talk, and c) Bernie should probably be included, too.

After Mindy called me back to let me know that Nick had declined his parents’ offer of a loan, I’d pitched the idea to Jade. She was immediately on board. Obviously.

But beyond all the rational reasons why this plan was flawed, it also required the rest of the Moonbar team to buy in, and I’d known that would be a long shot.

Apparently, not long enough though.

Rocco and Ed walk through the Employees Only door and Rocco helps Ed get settled at the other end of the bar.

I do everything I can not to throw up.

I wish I’d brought a binder for a situation like this. I just don’t know all the resources I’d need when trying to apologize to a man whose heart you’ve broken while also suggesting you invest in his bar to save his dream of owning it one day soon.

Nick is nowhere to be seen. When we arrived, I’d double-checked with Bernie that he was in and she assured me that he’s here, but it’s been at least five minutes, maybe ten. Normally, he wouldn’t leave his partner alone for this long. And he’s supposed to host Underground Karaoke.

Jade comes bounding back from the bathroom. “They have genderless bathrooms,” she says with an adorably happy grin.

I take her hand. “That’s great, honey.”

“I’m just saying.” She shrugs. “This place is a good investment.”

“Yeah.” I scan the space for Nick for the hundredth time. “That’s the plan.”

It’s a risk, a huge risk. Forget security and planning and perfect. This is a Hail Mary.

Finally, he pushes through the door.

“What took you so long?” Bernie yells.

“I was changing the keg.” He lifts the collar of his T-shirt and uses it to dab at the sweat on his brow. “Someone,” he says, staring her down, “stacked the Molson at the bottom again. It’s like playingDonkey Kongwith those barrels down there.”

Ed laughs, the sound raspy but strong, startling Nick.

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