Page 73 of Baby, It's You
I throw my apron on the bar counter and breathe heavily as I grab my stuff. I can’t stand another second in this place knowing it is going to be torn down in less than a month. I feel like I’m suffocating as I push through the front door and am blinded by rain.
“Shit,” I say as I run to my car. I’m dripping wet by the time I unlock it and get in the driver's seat. I put my keys in the ignition and try to start my car, but nothing happens. I try again. I hear nothing but my car clicking. My battery must be dead. I smack my hands on my steering wheel in frustration and scream out, “Rightnow? Are youkiddingme?”
I run around to my trunk so I can grab my jump box and realize it’s not there when I open it. I took it out last week to start my car at the grocery store and must have left it in the parking lot by accident. The universe is playing a cruel joke on me.
I look for other cars in the area and there isn’t a single one to be found. It’s past 2 A.M. on a Tuesday morning. No one is out right now, and I refuse to go back in and face Tripp. I get back in the driver's seat and tap my fingers on the steering wheel, deciding what I should do next. I know who would want to help me, I’m just not ready to face him. I sit for a few more minutes listening to the rain pour down on my car before I pick up my phone and reluctantly hit the caller ID for the only person I know who will be awake right now.
Hunter answers on the second ring, his voice laced with concern. “Olive? What’s wrong?”
“I need help. My car won't start,” is all I can say.
“Are you at work?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” Hunter hangs up then, I’m sure to rush out the door, to be my knight in shining armor once more.
He must think I’m pathetic. Always coming to rescue me. I can’t do this to him anymore.
Chapter 51
Hunter
Iwas editing some skate footage for a local brand, my insomnia getting the best of me tonight, when my phone lit up with an incoming call. Seeing that it was Olive, I instantly felt concerned. She usually doesn’t reach out to me late, and especially not in the past few weeks. I knew something was bad, and from the sound of her voice on the call, today didn’t go as planned. Her voice was curt and distant on the other end, almost robotic. And I surmised all that before she even mentioned the reason for her call.
My stomach drops now as I pull into the parking lot of Whiskey Jane’s. It’s pouring down rain, but I can see Olive outside. I park next to her and jog over to her driver’s side where she’s leaning against the door.
“Why are you standing out in the rain?” I shout as it pours onto us.
“I was hot in the car,” she says back. “It won't start.”
“Do you think it’s the battery?”
“Yes,” she responds, still robotic in her responses.
I stand next to her, just as drenched now. “I have cables. Let’s see if the rain will die down a little bit before we jump it. Just to be safe.”
Olive nods her head and crosses her arms. She’s staring at her feet, her body language completely closed off.
“Let’s go sit in my truck while we wait.”
“No. I need air,” she quietly responds.
“Okay.” I stand next to her, waiting to see if she wants to say anything else. A few minutes later she speaks.
“Tripp is selling the bar for two million dollars. He said the land is worth more now. He even laughed in my face when I asked him about buying it.”
Anger consumes me. I clench my hand at my side. “That piece of shit.”
Olive continues, “He said he has known about our attempt to raise the money this whole time. That it only helped him sell the bar for more money. He goes under contract tomorrow with the investor. The bar will be closed in less than a month.”
She sounds like she is reading off a script, not describing her own life. She’s detached. The way she is acting scares me; her lack of emotion with everything she tells me paralyzes my own thoughts.
“Are you okay?” I ask, instantly feeling like a dumbass because of course she’s not. Who would be okay in her situation right now?
Olive shrugs her shoulders. “Oh well. We tried.” She looks up at me blankly.
“Olive, we can raise the money. Let’s figure this out. I will help you.”
