Page 28 of The Hometown Dilemma
I shook my head, trying to figure out the latest roster. It felt good to have an extra name to add to the list of potential staff for once instead of trying to work out how to fill an entire week with the diminishing list I had.
“You seem happy.” Austen’s voice broke into my concentration. “You don’t usually smile when you’re working these days.”
We hadn’t seen each other in a while, so I hadn’t had the opportunity to update him on the latest developments. Well, the ones about the bar anyway. I still wasn’t entirely sure of his motives around Jaime, so I didn’t want to share my thoughts about her with him. If he was interested, I shouldn’t go there. Bro code and all that. But given how I’ve been thinking about Jaime lately, bro code be damned.
“Dad finally caved and let me get the licenses for the sports channels.” I neglected to tell him that my mom had already sorted it out behind his back anyway. “I’m planning a big reopening party the first night we show a game.” I spread my hands wide in a grand gesture. I wanted to make a big event out of it, to show the rest of Abbott Ridge that Dempsey’s was back and meant business.
“That’s fantastic, buddy. What made him change his mind?”
“He finally saw the light and realized that if we want to compete, we have to change the way we’re working. We don’t want to be a dinosaur and refuse to move forward. Can’t expect things to change if you carry on doing everything exactly the way you have been.”
“I’m glad.” Austen grinned. “It means I can get cheap beer on game night now.”
A snort escaped me. “Of course.”
At the sound of the front door opening, I cast my gaze in that direction expecting to see an early afternoon customer.
Instead, something much better entered.
Jaime strode across the bar towards us. I’d told her to dress casually, and she didn’t disappoint. A tight, short-sleeved black t-shirt stretched deliciously over her pert tits. Her shapely legs were encased in skinny dark blue jeans. Her glossy, chocolate brown hair was caught up in a ponytail, a few tendrils framing her face. Instantly, my fingers itched to tuck those strands behind her ear, my thumb trailing along her jawline as I did so.
I swallowed hard.
“Hey, Wade, Austen.” Jaime fluttered her fingers in greeting as she looked between us. “I’m not late, am I?”
“Nope. Right on time,” I blustered, wondering why the hell she suddenly made me so nervous. We’d hung out plenty of times before, worked together, and now I was a puddle of Jell-O around her.
Austen frowned. “What are you doing here anyway?”
Jaime lifted a shoulder. “Starting a trial shift.”
He smacked his hand against his forehead. “Shit, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“Tell me what?”
“Moira Channing finally got back to me. She said to thank you for your time, but none of your staging suggestions really worked for her, so she’s not going to take it any further.”
Jaime’s face fell, then she took control of her features and rearranged them into a neutral smile. “Oh, that’s fine. I thought she might have changed her mind based on the time she’d taken to come to a decision.” She blinked a few times, and I wondered if it was to try and stop tears. “Where can I leave my stuff, Wade?”
“This place hasn’t changed that much, Jaime. The staff room’s still there.” I waved her in the direction of the back. Despite the name, the staff room was a corner of the storeroom, consisting of a worn-down sofa and a tiny closet where people could put coats and belongings. If you were lucky, you could make some space between boxes of chips and pallets of soft drinks to sit down. Although if my new plans for the bar worked out, there wouldn’t be time to sit.
“Sure. I’ll drop my things there.” She held up her purse, which I was sure was a designer number, much more suited to a fancy interior design job in New York.
I watched her go into the back, a slight sashay to her hips, her ass looking hot encased in denim. Then I noticed Austen doing the same.
“Shit.” I turned my attention back to him. “Poor Jaime. She’d pinned all her hopes on that job, right?”
Austen raked a hand through his hair. “Mmm. Moira Channing’s hard work though. Jaime probably got off easy there.”
His demeanor seemed off, like there was more to it than he’d said. But I didn’t have the chance to pursue it as Jaime returned.
“You’re right. It hasn’t changed a bit.” She forced a smile, seeming more like herself again. “Even down to the crap in the bottom of the closet. Have you ever cleaned up in there?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Hmm…I guess not? Maybe that’s where you should start?”
Her mouth dropped open. “Really? You want me to clean? I thought you needed an extra pair of hands in the bar?”
“I’m teasing. Of course, I want you in the bar. Can you still pull a beer?”
