* * *
That nightI’m out to dinner with Easton at a restaurant downtown that he wanted to go to, trying my hardest to stay upbeat despite everything.
“Don’t like it? Want to see about ordering something else?” He points to the food I haven’t eaten.
“I’m just not that hungry. It’s been a day,” I sigh, taking another small bite of the ravioli. It tastes amazing but I just don’t feel up to it.
“We could have stayed home.”
“No. We wanted to try this place and I wanted to spend time with you.” I give him a little smile but worry colors his features.
“If this is because of the draft, I told you we’d figure it out. I’ll pay for you to fly out—whenever you want, every week if it works in your schedule.”
“I know. And that’s part of it.”
“And the other part?”
“I really didn’t want to ruin dinner talking about all this,” I sigh.
“Talking about what’s bugging you isn’t going to ruin anything, Wren. It’s what I’m here for. So tell me what’s going on?” He sets his fork down, taking his drink and leaning back in the booth to watch me.
“We went to that elder care attorney. And you know Gramps is already fighting me on this whole thing. Well, we found out how much it’s going to cost today.”
“Yeah, how much?”
“Eight thousand a month. I nearly cried right there in the office.”
“Fuck. That is a lot.” His eyes go wide. “How do people afford that?”
“It’ll be less initially if he doesn’t take all the options and can do some things himself, but I don’t even know that he can. He also can’t afford the deposit, so the attorney told me we’ll have to liquidate assets.”
Easton’s whole face goes hard. “They’re gonna make you sell the bar?”
“The whole building. With the apartments upstairs.” I try not to cry, because that’s the last thing I want to do in this restaurant. It’s upscale and posh as hell, and I doubt a lot of people cry in here unless it’s out of happiness for actually getting a table. “She said we can frame the listing in a way that says we want to rent the bar back, but you’ve seen the numbers.”
“Yeah, no one is going to want to rent to you at the price you could afford. Not for the size of the restaurant and the location. What they could get on the market… But if your upswing continues, maybe in a year.”
“We don’t have a year. He needs a big chunk of money just to get in and reserve his spot at this place.”
“I suppose if I tell you that I’ll front you the money, you’re going to tell me you don’t want it.” He gives me a doubtful look.
“Absolutely not.” I want him to know I mean it. I hope he hears me. Because my heart and my pride could not take a five-figure hand out from him. “It’s way too much. And it still wouldn’t help with the monthly fees. He’ll have to sell the building. But I’m devastated about the bar, especially after we put so much work in it and things are promising.”
“I know. Fuck, that definitely sucks, Princess. I’m sorry. Maybe there’s still hope though. Don’t give up just yet… see what the attorney and the real estate agent can come up with, okay?”
“I know. I’m just trying to prepare myself for the worst. Especially after we lost out on that interview.”
“It was bullshit. We definitely deserved first place. We even had better numbers.”
“Yeah. And if he thinks it’s easy to market a bar near campus, I’d like to see him try it someday. It’s harder when there are so many options and everyone has a favorite already.”
“I mean, the fact that you kept it open so long through everything says a lot about how good you are at the job. How well you made the lack of big budget marketing work. Honestly, fuck that professor.” Easton gives me a little smile.
“Yeah. Fuck him for not recognizing our talents.” I smile back, because even though this week has been hell and today has been particularly brutal, it still helps to have someone like him in my corner. Rooting for me. Fighting for me.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Easton
