Page 46 of Some Like It Fox

“You have no reason to be sorry.”

I lift my head, meeting his eyes. Unwilling to accept that this is it, that we’re just going to go about our lives like there’s nothing between us. “Friends.” The word pops out of my mouth without forethought. “We can be friends. Right?”

He rocks back on his heels. “Yeah. Friends. Absolutely.”

We can be friends. Friends is good. Friends is better, for both of us.

I can always use a friend.

Then why is my heart heavy with loss?

* * *

“Sounds like you were put through the wringer and you handled it like a champ.” Veronica’s raspy chuckle echoes over the speakerphone. “Vanessa called me yesterday. She said you were impressive at thinking on your feet.”

“There were a few fires,” I mutter, shuffling through the paperwork on the desk. “Everything has been taken care of. Gloria will be back tonight, and the stove is in working order.”

It only needed a new heating element, which was thankfully cheap. I pick up the invoice I’d been searching for from the produce supplier and key the info into the accounting program opened on the computer. “And you’ll be back tomorrow night?”

The ensuing silence goes on a little too long. Did I lose her?

“Veronica?”

She clears her throat. “About that. Rachel is having some complications and they’re putting her on bed rest.”

“Oh no.” My fingers still on the keyboard. “Is she okay? Is the baby okay?”

“The baby is fine, and Rachel is hanging in there. She needs to stay off her feet as much as possible until the baby comes so I need to extend my stay here a bit longer than we thought. Are you okay with continuing to take care of things there? I can search for a replacement if not.”

“I can stay on longer, of course,” I say. Words that used to give me anxious jitters, and yet they emerge so easily.

“I know it’s not ideal, but you’re staying for at least another month, right? And I’ll keep paying you more for the extra work I know you’re doing, so by the time I get back, you’ll have enough for your bus.”

Right. The bus. So I can leave. Go about my business as usual.

“Can I bring some musical acts here?” The words blurt out of my mouth as if they’ve been poised and waiting the past two days to be set free. Ever since Atticus mentioned the idea, it’s been nudging at me, and I’ve been unable to shake it.

The shocked silence emanating from the speaker is nearly palpable. “Really?”

“I was thinking, just a couple gigs here and there. Very chill.”

But like with Luke’s show, I could invite producers and influencers, and get the buzz going for some lesser-known acts.

I squirm in the chair, making it squeak. “It’s just a possibility. Forget it. It’s a bad idea.”

“Now wait a minute. It’s a good idea.”

I swallow. “I don’t know.”

“No, it’s perfect.” Veronica’s voice is eager. “Taylor, I insist you do it. You have my blessing. Hell, you have free rein to do whatever you like as long as you don’t burn the place down.” She chuckles.

A rush of excitement blows through me, along with nerves and anticipation, the ache to accomplish something, something good, something to focus on.

We chat about some other bar business before hanging up, my mind buzzing from all the ideas, thoughts, and actions I need to take.

Other than finding musicians and industry peeps and getting them to come out to the middle of nowhere, I have to consider the space and if I want to use it like they did with Luke, or if we should do an outdoor stage. After all, it is June, and the weather has been perfect. Veronica’s property is huge, extending back into the trees and to either side, probably about twenty acres.

But the area directly around the bar could use a bit of cleaning up. There is a junked-out car gathering rust, a moldy sofa with missing cushions, and an old porcelain clawfoot tub nestled under a maple tree.

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