Page 62 of Small Town Firsts
What? I was on track with my to-do list. Overwhelmed with the list itself, but I wasn’t behind. All my bullshit was personal. And while me and Beckett were best friends, we didn’t really talk about relationships.
Mostly because neither of us really had them.
Beck was married to the orchard, especially now that the brothers were trying to rebrand Happy Acres into a more modern Brothers Three direction.
“Just?”
I sighed. “I had a little incident with a patron at The Mason Jar last night and it blew out my night.”
“Is that right?” His voice was tight.
“Take it down a notch. It was nothing. The dude ended up in the drunk tank and I lost a few hours of work.”
“Key, you can’t keep working eleven jobs.” His voice was resigned, but I could hear the annoyance in there too.
“I’m down to two.” And while I knew it was unreasonable for me to take on anything else with everything I had on my plate for the taproom, having that cushion in my bank account—not to mention the tips for my drawer stash—made me feel more in control.
“I know this is kind of a delicate subject, but if I’m not paying you enough?—”
“God, no. No, that’s not it. You know my situation.” My voice tightened. I hated talking money, but Beck was the only one who knew everything. Well, almost everything.
I had to have some privacy. My loans were my business. I clenched the wheel as I stopped at a red light.
“Kira, you aren’t your sister.”
I laughed harshly. “Tell that to the fourteen families she hurt.”
Fourteen families I had to pay back so my sister didn’t go to jail.
“Dammit. I’m sticking. We’ll talk when you get here. You must be almost here, you’re only ten minutes from the orchard.”
“I was running an errand this morning. I’m still fifteen minutes out.” To pick up my car for my version of a walk of shame. Even when I’d done the deed all at my own damn apartment.
Deed?
Ha.
Gold star fucking is what it had been.
“Look, Beck. I’m fine. It is what it is. You and your family never made me feel like a Webb, and that’s what matters. Period.”
“Kira Webb is amazing.”
My eyes burned. Damn him.
“Back atcha. Now go away so I can do my interviews.”
“Yeah, yeah. Won’t hear me complaining about that part. You are aces when it comes to schedules and hires.”
Much like Ronan, he didn’t want to deal with the logistics of staffing. I knew it was where I excelled even if it wasn’t the sexy part.
“While I have you, I wanted to let you know I’m interested in bringing in a name for the bar.”
“What kind of name?”
“She’s a flair artist.”
“Like the Vegas thing?”
