But more so lately, because Laura had stepped into the same role Fawn had played so effortlessly.
“She does,” I agreed, leaning back with him and watching the end of Laura’s performance.
“You going to let this one stay?”
I sighed, not even bothering to deny it. “I’m trying, Aug.”
“You’ve fired every woman you’ve tried to replace Fawn with.”
I pressed my mouth into an unhappy line. “Yeah, well, they all sucked.”
He chuckled. “No, they didn’t. You hired all of them because they were good. But after a few weeks…”
After a few weeks the guilt built up to an unbearable level, and I found a reason to let them go. Either their hair extensions looked tacky. Or their voice grated on my nerves. Or they left makeup smears on the mirror.
Stupid, unfair reasons, when the truth was, I’d never been able to replace Fawn with anyone.
Because nobody was like her. Nobody had ever been able to fill her place either on my stage or in my heart.
I nudged Augie with my elbow. “I’m really going to try with this one. I promise.”
He nodded, his gaze lowering to meet mine. “Can you come over for dinner this weekend? It’s Lia’s birthday. She’s saying she doesn’t want a party…”
I grinned. “But you know she kind of does?”
He shrugged. “That. And I want to celebrate her.”
“We’ll be there. If you need us to bring anything, just let me know.”
Augie nodded distractedly. “You going to flip out if I invite the new girl?”
The guilt that always crept in when I thought about someone taking Fawn’s place rose like black smoke inside me. I tried to keep my expression neutral. “Do you really think Ophelia wants someone we hired to replace her sister at her birthday?”
“You’re the only one who sees Laura as a Fawn replacement, Eve.”
I sighed. I knew he was right. And I knew Augie had loved Fawn just as much as I had. Her death still hurt him, and it wasn’t fair for me to act like I was the only one affected.
It also wasn’t fair for me to keep Laura on the outside, when she’d done nothing wrong.
This club had always been a family, welcoming in anyone who needed that in their lives. I’d been the one to insist on family nights, where I closed the club one night a week, cooked up huge pots of food, and everyone brought their families in to eat together.
Laura had been with us for a month and hadn’t come to one. Because I hadn’t invited her.
I was such a jerk.
“Invite her,” I told Augie.
He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
I nodded. “I’ll deal.” I opened the door to my office. “And if I try to fire her—”
“I’ve already told her you will. And she knows to ignore you.”
I blinked.
The corners of Augie’s mouth turned up as he battled back a laugh.
I dug my elbow into his ribs. “Why do I even let you keep working here? It’s not like you need a night job on top of working with your brother during the day. You’re such an ass.”