Chapter Three
Luke
“So, when’s your friend stopping in?” I know I shouldn’t ask my employee about her friend. Quinn isn’t the kind of woman to let those simple words go. Hell, she’ll probably call her and tell her I asked.
Is that such a bad thing, Luke?
“Which friend?” the smartass asks.
I throw the bar towel over my shoulder, lean my hip on the bar, cross my arms, and then glare at Quinn. “Tayler.”
“Oh, Tayler? Hm, I’m not sure.”
I know she’s fucking with me because her voice just got all high-pitched and singsong-y. I sigh and move away from the bar. “Whatever.” I attempt to act aloof, but she must know something. Her smile is more smirk than anything else.
“Just text her if you want her to come in.”
“I….” She’s pissing me off. “No need.” Just trying to think of something to talk about since this place is dead. D-e-a-d. I swear, some Sundays are like this. It’ll pick up later. There’s a Packers game on the tube, so people will come in to watch that and eat some grub.
“She said you two have been texting a little bit.”
So shedoesknow.
“A little bit.” But the redhead won’t budge. I’ve asked her over to my place two other times, but she won’t do it. I pick up two empty beer glasses from the bar and place them in the bin for dirty glasses. “She’s stubborn.”
Quinn snorts. “You have no idea.”
I have some idea but I think I need a little backstory. Maybe Quinn will give me something I can use. “How long have you known her?”
“Forever. Elementary school.”
“That’s a long time.” That long? She’s got to have some good intel on my girl.
Notmygirl.Agirl.
“It is.” Quinn nods, pouring a beer for one of the three customers we have right now. “We’ve been through a lot.”
“She with that asshole for long?”
She turns her head to me, arching her brow. “You should really ask Tayler about that.”
“You can’t tell me how long she was with that cheating fuck?” I mean, seriously.
“Since junior year of high school. Four years.”
Four years?That’s a long time. I know because my marriage barely lasted two. “Wow.” It’s all I can think to say. Honestly, I can’t figure out why Tayler wouldn’t want to have an easy rebound. With me, of course. No one else. But you’d think it’d help clear her head. A reboot, as they say. Maybe that’s my angle. Perhaps I should propose a rebound fling that can help her get over that douchebag and get on with her life.
I smile and Quinn sees it. “What?” she asks.
“Nothing.”
“Luke, I’ve only worked here for a few months, but I can tell by your expression that you’ve got a plan.”
I lose the smile. That’s bullshit. Quinn Maxwell can’t read my expressions. That pisses me off.
“And that one tells me you’re mad.” She looks away quickly. “Sorry,” she mutters as she heads out into the bar to wipe down tables.
Yeah, run away. I don’t want to be “figured out.” By anyone.
