“He seemed very checked-out and willing to sell once he realized that I was serious about buying, so that tracks.”
As over it as he’d seemed to be, Larry had kept amazing records, and, as I’d suspected, the bar turned a nice profit year over year. I wasn’t worried about the financial side of running things since I knew how to keep airtight books from both my old job and helping my father out for a short time when he’d had to switch accountants.
The rest were nuances that I expected to pick up over time. I’d learned the register and how to print receipts for the night, sort of remembered how to create basic mixed drinks, and had been pleasantly surprised how fast I was able to pour and serve one busy night.
Each day, it seemed less daunting and even became fun once I shook off the initial nerves. But now that my name was officially listed as the owner of this place, it was jarring in a way I hadn’t expected.
And real. Permanent and real.
The echo of those two words in my head made me untie the bow on the neckline of my blouse in desperation for air.
“Is it okay to bring outside champagne into a bar?”
Peyton held up a bottle and balloons as she stepped up to the bar.
“You’re ridiculous,” I said, not knowing if I wanted to laugh or cry at the elation on my best friend’s face. I’d never considered myself an emotional person, but all the change thrown at me these last couple of months had done a number on my nervous system.
Ever since Jude and I had returned from Brooklyn, I’d been trapped in my feelings. It usually took a lot for me to get choked up, but verge of tears had seemed to be my baseline for the past couple of days. I’d had to walk away when Brandon, one of the younger bartenders, had hung up the painting from my parents by the front entrance. I’d rushed to my office to sniff back the tears enough to try to pretend I was the boss around here and not a crybaby.
Because now, I really was the boss. The thought again made me pull at my collar to dry the sudden sheen of sweat coating my chest.
“I don’t have liquor, but I have cookies,” Kristina said as she trailed in behind Peyton. “I found beer and wineglass cookie cutters, and the girls went to town.”
“Come on in. We can have both.” I waved them in and gave them each a big hug.
“Are you okay?” Peyton asked, eyeing me when I squeezed her a little too hard for too long.
“Oh yeah,” I said, waving a hand. “It’s just…” I raked a hand through my hair and lifted my gaze to the ceiling, as if that would make the lump gnawing at the back of my throat slide down enough to get the right words to come out of my mouth.
“It’s a lot.” Kristina squeezed my shoulder. “Good stuff, though. And I’m glad you’re staying. Everything is more fun with you around.” She elbowed my side and made her way to the counter to set down the plastic containers of what looked like very brightly colored cookies.
“Yeah, I’m a barrel of fun today.” I huffed and rolled my eyes as I placed the weight on the end of the balloon strings toward the back of the counter. “Cookies and balloons shouldn’t make me cry.”
“Good things always make me cry. When Leo is extra sweet, he can still do that. Or when one of the girls does something great or acts like they want me around.” Kristina chuckled and climbed onto a stool and rested her elbows on the counter. “Those moments are nice. Enjoy them rather than worry that you’re feeling them too much.”
“I can’t have those moments in front of customers, though.” I reached under the bar and pulled out three champagne flutes.
“The guys at the table are old friends of my father’s,” Kristina said, glancing back with a shake of her head. “They don’t notice much. Be as weepy as you want on your first day of ownership, and enjoy your first night.”
“Excuse me, can I speak to the owner?”
My head whipped around to Jude’s voice. He stood behind Kristina, unfairly handsome as always in his uniform, with a crystal vase full of roses and lilies in one hand.
“What are you doing here?” I rushed out from behind the counter. “I thought you were on duty today.”
“I worked through lunch so I could leave an hour earlier and get to the flower shop before they closed.” A slow grin curled his lips before he brought me in for a quick kiss. “Congratulations, baby.”
“Jude…they’re beautiful. I don’t know what to say—”
His bottomless blue eyes searched mine, so full of love and pride that the dam finally broke. I took the flowers from his hands and pushed the vase at Peyton just in time to collapse in sobs against Jude’s chest.
“Hey,” Jude crooned, drifting his hand up and down my back. “What’s wrong?” His effort to soothe me only made me cry harder.
“Is she okay?” he asked over my head.
“She’s fine. Just a little overwhelmed,” Peyton said behind me as she squeezed my shoulder. “It’s a big day.”
I nodded, pushing off Jude’s chest. I ran my palm down the Claudia-shaped wet print on his shirt.
