Page 53 of Happy Endings

Andre nodded silently. He seemed—anxious? horny? Did he ask her to come for a booty call and she completely misread the signs? This was exactly why she hated flirting through texts. Shehad a life and a career. He needed to understand that this was serious for her and she didn’t just drop everything for sex.

“What is going on?” She set the satin bags on the bar with a thump. “Did you really want to make cocktail pairings, or did you want sex?”

“Cocktail pairings.” He rubbed the back of his head. “I’m not Xavier. I don’t play games with women I’m in a relationship with.”

“We are not in a relationship, Andre.” Trixie pulled a notebook and pen out of her tote. “You asked me here to work on our businesses. To save your restaurant.”

Andre’s nostrils flared. His jaw tightened.

“I know what’s at stake here.” He hastily grabbed pint glasses and cocktail shakers. A shaker fell out of his grip and clattered onto the floor. Andre ignored it and reached for another one. “I see it every day when I walk into this nearly empty restaurant and see the bills piling up in my office. I’m doing everything I can to save this place. You don’t have to remind me.”

Having sex with him the other night had been a mistake. Andre might be more in touch with his feelings, but his outbursts made it hard for her to be professional. She had plenty to do on her own without tiptoeing around him.

“This is a bad idea.”

Trixie grabbed her products off the bar and tossed them into her tote bag. She reached for Jack of All Trades, but Andre had grabbed the other end. There was no way she’d get into a tug-of-war with him with a rabbit-shaped vibrator.

“Let go,” she growled. “Stop being childish.”

“I’m not letting you run away.” He pulled the toy toward him, but she refused to let go. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

Did Andre Walker just apologize to her? Trixie let go of thetoy suddenly. Andre’s body flew backward, his hands still holding the satin bag. Panic crossed his face and he threw his hands out to catch himself on the bar. The vibrator sailed over his head and crashed into a row of liquor bottles behind him.

Trixie gasped. “Are you okay?”

Andre’s wide eyes glanced behind him. A sigh of relief escaped him when he realized none of the bottles were broken. She wasn’t sure she could say the same about Jack.

“Oh my God, did you just throw my bestselling vibrator at your liquor?” Trixie tried to sound horrified, but she giggled instead. Her shoulders shook and laughter bubbled out of her. “Andre Walker, it’s a good thing you’re a bartender and not a sex toy salesman.”

“That wasn’t funny,” he replied, a bit miffed. “I could have died. Or broken my leg at the very least.”

“Now that would have been a funny trip to the ER. Excuse me, nurse, my friend broke his leg because we were fighting over a rabbit vibrator.” She couldn’t help it. Trixie opened her mouth wide and laughed.

“Couldn’t be any worse than when we took you to the ER because you caught that watermelon like a fucking quarterback,” he shot back, ego obviously hurt.

Not this argument again. Another example of him trying to take care of everyone around him. Trying to be the big man when she didn’t want help.

“That wasn’t my fault. You threw it at me.”

“Because we were in a watermelon-throwing contest at the parish fair! The oneyousigned us up for.”

“We could have won if you hadn’t made me go to the ER.” Trixie put on an exaggerated pout. In hindsight, it had been prettyfunny, especially as a parade of ER nurses asked them to retell the story.

Andre didn’t look amused right now. He was in angry mode again.

“I told you I was fine!” she cried out.

“Your arm was going numb!” Andre shook his head, then breathed in and continued in a lower voice, “I was worried I’d hurt you.”

His change in tone stopped her. Trixie took deep breaths to slow down her racing heart. Why in the hell were they arguing over something that happened over two years ago? Her shoulders sagged. She was tired of fighting.

“But then you did hurt me, Andre.” Trixie looked across the bar at him, but he avoided her eyes. “Why did you do it?”

THEY WEREN’T TALKINGabout watermelons anymore. He didn’t have a plan on how to approach the topic of their past, but this sure as hell wasn’t it.

Andre bit his lip and kept his eyes on the row of highballs under the bar. He grabbed two and set them on the bar. With a practiced twist of his body, he grabbed the bottle of Patrón tequila from behind him. It didn’t matter that it was barely lunchtime. He needed some liquid courage to have this conversation with her.

He added Diet Coke and lime to her glass. Orange juice and grenadine to his. He slid them across the bar.

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