I answered without pausing to think. “A broken heart does that to a person.”
As realization widened both of their eyes, we heard the front door open. I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to will my heart rate to slow down. Erin brushed tears away, and Ben took another long sip of scotch.
“Mom? Dad?”
“Dining room, sweetie,” Ben called.
I stood. “I have to get to work.”
Erin toyed with the folder in front of her. “Ryder, will you at least consider?—”
“Not our decision,” I reiterated firmly, just as Hannah rounded the corner.
Hannah wore her work uniform, backpack slung over her shoulder. She looked tired, but brightened when she saw me. “Oh, hi Ryder! I didn’t expect to see you here.”
I swallowed hard, trying to summon my best smile for her. “I was just leaving. I have a shift.”
Just as I thought, the girl was too smart for her own good. She looked from me, to Erin, then to the folder under our hands. “What’s going on?”
I shoved the folder back in Erin’s direction. “Ask your mom.” Hannah reached out for a hug as I passed her. “You can call me later if you need to.”
I grabbed my jacket from the coat closet and saw myself out, pulling the door shut behind me.
Chapter 10
I was seethingas I left the house, but the drive to the bar gave me time to cool down. I couldn’t believe Erin’s nerve—especially since she waited untilafterI’d uprooted my entire life to spring the paperwork on me. I didn’t know what the future with Hannah would look like, but I sure as hell knew I wanted to give it a shot.
I needed to get out of my head. So I took a deep breath and headed into work, ready to forget for a while.
A cold Friday night in Salem meant that everyone and their mother turned up at the bar, and for a change, I didn’t have the patience for it. I was completely out of my element, and it threw me. Uncharacteristically snippy, I didn’t even flirt, struggling to hold the simplest of conversations. Dani, my tiny pink-and-purple-haired co-worker, zipped around me like it was a choreographed dance—one I hadn’t learned yet. We’d worked a couple of shifts together, but tonight we bumped and crashed into each other multiple times. By the third cocktail I dropped, she crouched next to where I was picking up the shaker and grabbed my wrist.
“What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing,” I snapped, wrenching out of her grip.
“You’re fuming, Ryder. You have been since you walked in.”
“I said I’m fine.”
Being the spitfire she was, she snatched the shaker from me, tossed it in the dish bucket, and was already remixing the drink I’d been making as I straightened. “Get more napkins from the supply closet. Second door on the left.”
“We don’t?—”
“Napkins.Now.” She faced me, concern in her dark eyes. “Take your time; make sure to grab the right ones.”
She was giving me an out.
“You’re sure?” I asked.
“I’ve handled worse than this crowd on my own. Go.” She inclined her head toward the hallway.
I retreated. I moved quickly, but it didn’t seem to matter. By the time I reached the second door on the left, I couldn’t breathe. My throat was tight. I was choking on the pathetic sounds threatening to bubble out of me. I entered the closet, kicked the door shut, and paced in a circle, wheezing through every lap.
My chest burned and my eyes stung, but with each step, my breathing came easier. I paced until I could breathe without choking. Only then did my steps slow. I leaned against the wall between two shelf stands, hands on my knees, head down. I needed to pull myself together.
I heard the doorknob click. “I’ll be right there, Dani,” I said.
“Oh, sorry.”
