Page 13 of Starting Over

Joey looked at King, then Tank, and with a heavy sigh, he relented.

“Name?”

“Murphy.”

“Do you have the card you booked with?” he asked.

“I do,” I said, sliding my credit card through the small hole at the bottom of the partition.

Joey inserted the card, pressing a few buttons on the computer, then on the machine itself. He removed it from its slot and handed it back to me.

“It takes five to seven business days for a refund.” He looked over at King. “I got nothing to do with that. It’s the card company,” he said with hands raised in the air.

“Thank you.” I smiled at the young man, hoping to ease his worry.

Putting the card back in my wallet, I turned toward the door. Before I walked out, I heard King tell the kid, “If he fires you, come see me. We’ll get you something to work with the schedule you need.”

“Thanks, King.”

“That was nice of you,” I remarked once we were outside.

“Nah, Joey’s a good kid. His mom, well, she’s got some issues, and Joey takes care of his baby sister.”

“Ok, well, let’s go to the clubhouse, I guess. God, my daughter is going to lose her mind.”

“You got a daughter?”

Shit.

“Uh, yeah. She’s twenty-six.”

King looked over at Tank and smiled. “Interesting.”

Tank just shook his head and opened the door for me to climb in.

“We can drop the car off at the shop, and you can grab what you need for a few days.”

“Ok,” I conceded.

What else could I do? I had no car and no friends here. I could not stay at that rat trap called a motel. The clubhouse was the only option. At least the sheriff wouldn’t be there.

We dropped off the car, and I grabbed two suitcases from the trunk before we drove to the clubhouse. Tank insisted on carrying my bags, and I let him. They were heavy, and I was used to men doing things for me. No reason to say no if they offered.

I could hear the music coming from the three-story brick building. When we walked inside, the music abruptly stopped and everyone in the room turned in our direction.

There were only a handful of people and they were all staring at me.

“Where’s Cash?” King asked the room.

“Rach had a headache, so he took her upstairs,” a young girl with auburn hair explained.

“Everyone, this is Maureen. She’s new in town and gonna stay with us for a bit. She just moved to town, and her car broke down. She also bought the old Sullivan place.”

“That shithole?” someone called out.

A beautiful girl with dark curly hair walked up to me.

“Hi, I’m Sam. Welcome to the frat house.” She laughed, and it helped to ease the tension I was feeling.

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