Page 4 of The Love Wager

All the regulars perched behind her, and her friends, who look like they’re going to throw their very expensive bags at my head, are shaking their heads and giving signals to fall back.

Fuck that.

I step closer, looking down at her. “I mean, that you’re clearly not from around here. You’re here for some fun girls only event that has you acting out of character and throwing confetti all over my table and floor, which I’m certain is shaped like penises. I also mean that if I let you stay on my bar, flash all my customers, and continue to carry on, it wouldn’t matter much to you. It would be another story in your long list of drunken soirées, I’m certain you have. But this is my home. This is my place of business. Which means I have to carry things like insurance for when girlslike youtumbleweed through town and decide to trash the place or get hurt falling off the bar. The thing is, red, I don’t want to do an insurance claim. So, while what I’ve said ruffles your feathers, it’s nothing you won’t forget about by morning if you just hobble back over to your table and go on with the rest of your evening.”

While I can see rage waving at me in her otherwise gorgeous eyes, she drops her finger out of my face and shakes her head.

Backing up a few paces, she looks me up and down with disgust. “You don’t know shit about me.”

I shrug. “Well, first impressions aren’t everything, but they are telling.”

Her friends tug on her arms and urge her back to their table, and I pick up my discarded rag and sigh.

“That was fucking harsh, B,” Travis says as I walk behind the bar.

I know it was, and I don’t need him to tell me. It’s not unusual for me to be surly, but I’m usually friendly to thetourists, accommodating even. But after the day I had fighting with the bank over the money owed on the second mortgage and the two hours I did groveling for the extension, I’m over niceties.

“It was the truth. The truth sometimes tastes bitter,” I mutter, turning and grabbing a glass I’m not even sure needs shining as I run my rag over it.

“Take them a round of shots,” I tell Travis, closing my eyes and trying to get my heartrate to simmer.

“Hah! I’m not going over there. Look at ‘em! It’d be like walking into the lion’s den after you stole a fucking cub.”

My eyes open and fall on the redhead who started all this. Not only is she looking in my direction, but she’s seething.

Her friends are in her ear, likely rebuilding her confidence, no doubt.

“I’ll be in my office if you need me,” I tell Travis, tossing the rag down and handing him the glass.

He huffs as it connects with his chest. He fights a grin as he nods. “Got it, boss.”

Sitting back with my hands steepled on my head, I eye the clock. Eleven-thirty. I sigh as I lean forward and eye the paperwork spread across my desk. Five grand in back rent still owed.

Fuck.

This was necessary, of course. I had to do what I did, and I’d do it again, but man, losingThe Placewould kill me. This place was my dad’s.

I was doing good, too. Until the bank decided my time was up and asked for the last payment in one lump sum, threatening repossession if I didn’t pay. The extension I weaseled out ofWalter down at the bank is for another two weeks, but fuck, if I can’t figure out where to pull five grand out of my ass, I’m screwed.

As if summoned, Nick’s number pops up on my phone—the entire reason for all the paperwork on my desktop.

“Hey, man,” I say, answering.

“Hey. Feel like some dinner?” he asks.

I narrow my brows. “Why? You haven’t been trying to cook again, have you?”

He laughs, which tips my own lips up in a rare smile. “No. I haven’t, you asshole. I was going to drop by and bring pizza.”

I open my mouth to let another smartass remark, but he beats me to it.

“I was thinking Joe’s, so it’s edible.”

I laugh, which feels even rarer than the smile was. “You know when last call is, but I don’t have any stock or paperwork to do tonight, so like two-ish,” I tell him.

“Cool. Be there then.”

“Sounds good.”

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