Page 7 of Sweet Escape

“And since when is it a problem to have friends stay the night?”

“What did she mean when she said ‘everything I’ve heard about him’?”

Murphy crosses her arms. “She’s the person I talk to about almost everything, Memphis. You think I moved away and didn’t shit on you and Dad a little bit in the nine years I was gone?”

I grab the cash off the bar and give Murphy a glare. “Oh, thanks. That feels great.”

My sister lets out a long sigh, one I’ve heard aimed my way many times. “Look, I don’t have the mental capacity for this right now. I need to get back to work, and I’d rather not continue arguing in front of anyone. Can I trust that if Vivian comes back inside, you’re not going to be an ass?”

Glancing to the side, a bit of relief rushes through me when I see that the people at the bar are all enthralled in their own conversations. It’s rare for me to lose my cool like that in front of customers, and I’m even more irritated that Vivian was able to crawl so easily under my skin.

“Yeah. Fine.”

Murphy spins and heads over to the host stand, and I turn my gaze through the large windows, out where I can see Vivian sitting alone in an Adirondack chair looking over the property.

Clearly, my sister’s friend has a few choice thoughts about me. Though I’ll be honest, I can’t imagine anything I’ve done or said to my sister warrants a reaction like that one.

The only conclusion I can make is that Vivian must be a drama queen. Someone who latches on to things that are none of her business.

I shift my attention to greet two new customers as they take a seat at the bar, and I push the redhead as far out of my mind as I’m able to do.

Murphy said Vivian is just staying one night.

Hopefully, our exchange tonight is the extent of our interactions.

Judging by the way she talked to me, I’m assuming she wants the same.

Chapter Two

Vivian

“He’s not so bad, you know.”

I turn my head, looking to where Murphy lies next to me, staring up at the ceiling.

“Who?”

“Memphis.”

I snort.

“I’m serious, V. I might have complained a lot about him and Dad, but ... I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” I reply, kicking one leg out from underneath the sheet, trying to get comfortable. “It matters whatyouthink.”

“I know, and I’m telling you, I think Memphis is actually pretty great. Most of the time, at least.”

“A rave review,” I reply, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

Murphy laughs into a yawn, then turns on her side to face me. “I’m just saying ... If you see him or my dad around while you’re in town, feel free to tone down the guard dog in your soul. I appreciate it, but really, things are pretty good.”

“Okay so ... maybe Idohave a flair for the dramatic.”

“Just a little.”

I reach out and take her hand, squeezing it gently.

“Just making sure your brother sees that you have someone in your corner.”

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