Page 51 of The Wild Card
“I just … I don’t know how I feel about all of this,” I say. “Pretending to date is like lying. And all of this started with Molly lying during a job interview. That’s a red flag. I’m not sure I want to wade into these waters.”
I can’t believe I’m even considering it, honestly. My moral compass seems to have lost true north. It’s spinning in circles, which is just par for my life right now.
Thayden nods, looking thoughtful as he drags a hand over his trim beard. “Usually I’d agree with you about the lying being a red flag. Especially after Liza.” He pauses. “Not that I’m excusing it, but did Molly have a good reason for needing the job so badly?”
I frown, remembering what she said about her father last night. She didn’t reveal much, but enough to make me think she was in a vulnerable position and that this job was the only way out.
“Maybe,” I say. “Do you know much about Chase and Molly’s family?”
Thayden shakes his head. “Chase doesn’t mention them. I mean, I don’t hang out with him as often as I see you and your brothers. I met his parents at Abby and Zane’s wedding but didn’t hold much of a conversation with either. Molly is the only member of his family I’ve ever heard Chase talk about. Why?”
“Just something Molly said.” I don’t feel like giving Thayden details, and I’m not sure I have any to give. Just a hunch that there’s more to why Molly wants to stay here. “Anyway, if we do this, what kind of stuff would we have to post online?”
Thayden smiles. “I think I’d ask your girlfriend—sorry, fake girlfriend—on that. She seems to have a pretty good handle on things. A hard launch sooner than later, for sure.”
“‘Hard launch’?” Thayden has a few years on me, but I swear, sometimes he makes me feel like an old man.
He laughs as he climbs into his Bronco. “Molly can explain that to you also. Have fun. I can’t wait to watch.”
The idea of Thayden watching a video with me in it makes me feel really weird. Guess I’d better get used to the thought since Molly’s million followers will be watching too.
Thayden starts to pull away from the curb but rolls down the window and leans out. “Collin—one more thing.”
I wait for what I’m sure will be something I’d rather not hear. Especially as I see Molly exit the diner with a to-go cup. She sees me and heads my way, tripping a little over the too-big flip-flops I let her borrow. The sight makes me smile.
“As your lawyer, here’s my advice,” Thayden says. “Sit down with Molly. Make some rules and expectations. Talk about what you’re comfortable with. Get on the same page. Otherwise … one or both of you are likely to end up hurt.”
“We won’t get hurt if it’s not real.” Even as the words leave my mouth, they feel wrong.
“Keep telling yourself that, buddy. I can assure you from experience that you’re wrong.” Something about Thayden’s expression is a little too smug, a little too knowing as he pulls away.
I’m still standing there, watching his taillights disappear when Molly reaches me. “Everything okay?” she asks.
No, everything is not okay. “As okay as it can be.”
She looks like she wants to say something more but then shakes her head. Pulling out her phone, she starts walking off without giving me another look. “I’ve got to go. My brother won’t stop spamming me with messages. I’ll see you later?”
I nod, thinking about Thayden’s words and how Molly and I should have a conversation to hash all this out. I should ask her to have dinner with me, but she seems eager to go.
To get away from me? Away from Thayden’s idea?
I open my mouth to call her name, then chicken out, and we go our separate ways.
I’m not sure what draws me toward Dark Horse that night. Probably loneliness. I’m not as much of an extrovert as Pat, who might expire if he were ever forced into solitary confinement of some kind, but since saying goodbye to Molly after breakfast, I haven’t seen or talked to her.
Though it shouldn’t make me feel stupidly lonely, it does.
It’s been a while since I’ve stepped through the doors at the brewery and bar. Though I’m proud of what my older brother built, I don’t have the least interest in how beer is made. As for drinking, my brothers and I do tend to congregate at Backwoods Bar. Not because Dark Horse doesn’t have a good vibe—it’s actually fantastic and busy most nights. I’m sure if it didn’t belong to my brother, we’d be here all the time. But out there at Wolf’s unofficial bar, we don’t have to beon.
We’re nevernotthe Grahams, but at Backwoods, we can be the low-key, real versions of ourselves.
“Looking for James?” Winnie asks with a smile. She’s seated at the end of the bar, laptop screen reflected in her glasses. Kyoko, Winnie’s friend and one of James’s employees, waves from behind the counter. “He’s in the back. Doing James things.”
The Sheet Cake Festival ended yesterday, which means the brewery is about half-full instead of standing room only the way it’s been for days. A relief. I know it’s good for the town, and the extra tourism is good for what my father is trying to build here, but I prefer the town at its normal capacity.
Small. Quiet. Quirky bordering on a little weird. But isn’t that the nature of small towns?
“So, James is doing James things, and you’re doing Winnie things?” I gesture to the detailed spreadsheet on her screen.
