Page 74 of Bad Boy for Hire
“I can leave.” Lynx stood from the couch…and wobbled.
“Sit down.”
Lynx obeyed.
Xavier sighed. “Are you hungry?”
Lynx perked up. “Eggs and bacon?”
“I’ll make you eggs and toast.”
Sometimes his brother acted like an entitled jerk, but Xavier remembered what it was like to be twenty-one and feel invincible. From the kitchen he called out, “Text Mom and Dad and tell them you’re staying at my house. I don’t want them worrying. And I don’t want them calling me in the morning asking where you are.”
“You have my phone, prick.”
Oh, right. Xavier walked into the other room, tossed Lynx his phone, and then went to the kitchen to make his brother a very late breakfast.
The next morning, Xavier left Lynx to nurse what was probably the hangover of his young life and headed to Salty Dog.
He’d been there fifteen minutes and had learned that a busboy had called in sick, and Dean, his brewer, was quitting. So much for a smooth day.
“Can you give me a little more time?” Xavier asked Dean while simultaneously checking the liquor inventory in the back room.
“I would like to, but I start working with my buddy on Wednesday. He needs me.”
Xavier bit his tongue instead of saying what he was thinking, which was I need you here more. Instead, he said, “Can you give me until Friday?”
Dean shook his head. “I can’t, man. I wasn’t going to give any notice, but I didn’t want to leave you hanging.”
Xavier gave him a look. At least the guy had the decency to look sheepish about his bullshit. “We’ll make it work.”
Not that Dean had given him much of a choice. Xavier had hoped to slide in and out of Salty and be home in two hours. Wishful thinking.
And he still needed to talk to May. Instead, he texted her:
Stuck at the bar today. I’ll make it up to you.
She replied: Okay.
Which didn’t exactly fill him with warm fuzzies.
He wanted to make promises, but he wasn’t sure he could keep them. Between the chaos unfolding at work and Lynx sacked out on his couch, privacy wasn’t guaranteed.
By the time he left for the night, he was dog tired and no closer to solving his staffing problem. Sure, he could brew the beer himself. He had before. But with everything on his plate, that wasn’t realistic.
To add to his compounding stress, his mother called as he was walking out the door. “Hey, Mom.”
“Lynx said he’s staying with you again tonight.”
“Yeah, he needed a break.”
“From what? From us?”
“You know how I was when I was that age. He’s just trying to find himself.” And he hoped that Lynx “found himself” soon. Hanging with guys who would rather bust your lip than give you a ride home wasn’t smart.
“He said you were working tonight. So, how are you visiting each other if you’re not at home? Weren’t you going to work less?”
“That was the plan.” He started his Range Rover, his body heavy. “I lost a few employees recently.” Really fucking recently. “As the owner, I’m responsible for keeping everything running.”
