Page 12 of Fall For You

Any suspicions I might have had about whether Jo was only doing this to appease her aunt, are immediately dispelled when she pulls out her phone and starts reading from a seemingly endless list of notes; offering ideas and making all kinds of suggestions—mostly for things I never would have thought of on my own, and now desperately want to try. Like renting a photo booth, hosting a silent auction, printing up souvenir menus,raffling off centerpieces, creating signature cocktails. And that’s all before she gets into things like advertising and promotional opportunities.

I’m listening bemused, exchanging impressed glances with Miguel, when my brother saunters in and bellies up to the bar—like it’s something he does every day of the week, which he doesn’t. Or, again, like this isthatkind of bar. Which it also still. Is. Not.

“Cash. What’re you doing here?” I ask, after he’s ordered a pint from one of our local breweries. He’s looking a little belligerent, and I’m guessing I know exactly why that is.

“Hey, Bro,” he replies. “Nothing much. I was just passing by, and I thought I’d stop in and have a drink and maybe shoot the breeze.” Then he turns to Jo and says, “Hey there, Lucille. Didn’t expect to seeyouback in town.”

Lucille? Aw, that’s just fucking great. Nobody within hearing distance misses the reference to one of Kenny Rogers’ earliest hits. I roll my eyes. Miguel quickly turns away—which hides his smirk, but not the snort of laughter that escapes him. Jo’s cheeks turn fiery red, which in turn triggers my protective streak.

“Cut it out, Cash.” I scowl at my brother. “Leave her alone. This is not your fight.”

I mean…in a way, it kind of is. Jo didn’t just hurt me when she left town without a word; she let the whole Donahue family down. And I guess that includes Cash, even though the bad blood between the two of them stretches back to practically their first meeting, near as I can tell. They’re like fire and ice and always have been. Which—I’m not gonna lie—has not gone unremarked. Their behavior has led an irritatingly large number of people to suspect they’re secretly attracted to each other.

Is there any truth to the rumors? I can’t rightly say. All I do know is that it’s never appeared that way to me—and I think I know them both pretty well.

But the whole Lucille dig wouldn’t have landed so hard if there weren’t a kernel of truth to it. Jodidleave me at the worst possible time; I think we’re all in agreement on that point. The difference is that she had no idea when she left that my whole world had just tipped sideways. And if we’re being honest, that was partly my fault, too. I could have called her. I could have found a way to reach out, to communicate, to tell her what was happening. I chose not to.

But hey, I’ve made my peace with that. And since we’re already referencing song lyrics, here’s a tip of the hat to Miss Bonnie Rait: you can’t make someone love you if they don’t. So there.

“Cash,” Jo replies evenly. “Still as big a dick as ever, I see.”

Cash quickly downs half his beer, causing me to eye him worriedly—he’s never been a big drinker. “Am I?” He pauses, as if thinking about it, then says, “Well, I guess I’ll have to defer to your greater knowledge of the subject.”

“What subject? Dicks?”

Cash’s smile turns nasty. “Exactly.”

“Oh, for the love of God,” I exclaim tiredly. “Would y’all just give it a rest? This isnotthat kind of bar, damn it.”

I glance at the clock on the wall and then ask Miguel if he wouldn’t mind telling the kitchen to shut things down—if they haven’t already started. “Maybe, if we’re lucky, we can get everybody out of here before any fights break out.”

Miguel nods. “I’m on it,” he says, as he squeezes around me and leaves.

“Seriously, though,” Cash says, once it’s just the three of us. “Why the hell is she even here? Please tell me you two aren’t taking up with each other again—you’re not are you?”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” I tell him. “But Jo’s here to help plan some promo for the Valentine’s dinner.”

“Oh, c’mon.” Cash levels a scowl in my direction. “You’re gonna let her messthatup for you now, too? Whose bright idea was that?”

“It was my aunt’s idea,” Jo tells him.

“Youraunt?” I wince at the look of disbelief on Cash’s face when he turns to me to ask, “Please. Tell me she’s joking?”

“Stop it,” I tell him yet again, shutting down that line of questioning. “It’s not like that. Besides, you know how important this dinner is—it could literally make or break us—and I don’t have the background in marketing that I’d need to have to really make it a success. Jo does.”

Cash shakes his head. “Well, I guess you really can’t fix stupid, can you?”

“How dare you?” Jo says, coming to my defense—when I really wish she’d just stay quiet. I’m used to my family’s dismissive attitude; I’ve been dealing with it all my life. That’s just one more thing I’ve made my peace with. “Your brother’s a great guy,” Jo continues angrily. “He’s a better man thanyou’llever be. And he’s hardly stupid.”

Cash looks at her in silence for a beat then nods in agreement. “Iknow how great he is. It’s just too bad that you only seem to remember that when it’s convenient.”

“Look,” I sigh. “In case you missed the memo, we’re closed now. So, if you both could just finish your drinks and leave, that’d be great.”

Cash is still shaking his head as he downs the rest of his beer. “Fine. Have it your way.” He tosses a few bills on the bar then, as he turns to leave he adds, “It’s your funeral.”

And yup; there it is. What did I tell you? I knew I’d be hearingthatagain.

“Was that aimed at me?” Jo asks in that soft voice she only ever uses when something has really hit her hard.

---