Me
Hey, I have a favor to ask…
Wondering if I can crash at your place again for a bit.
Attempted making popcorn again last night, and… there was a fire.
April 2nd
Me
Jesus, Gordy… what the hell, man?
You can’t even respond to an April Fool’sDay joke?
April 8th
Me
Cool, cool. Getting the message loud and clear, bub.
You want nothing to do with me.
Fuck you too.
Chapter Eighteen
Caleb and Marcus have just taken off to go deliver today’s catch while I remain down at the marina trying to cram in my monthly maintenance routine before another mid-April shower rolls in, when suddenly my phone rings.
“Sup, T-dawg?” I answer, perplexed as to why Taryn would be calling me and yet, in the same token, let down that it isn’t Gordy. Why would it be, though? The guy hasn’t even bothered to text me back since he all but threw himself a going away party for me and the girls finally vacating his apartment. Well, maybea partyis exaggerating a little, but he sure didn’t hesitate to help us gather all our things and slam the door on my ass. Thankfully, I was already outside before wood met fanny.
Now, I’m pretty sure I’m blocked, since all my texts haven’t even been read.
I half figured what we did in the shower the night before we moved out would send him spiraling. That’s why, I’m sure, he waited until Iwas asleep to spring out of bed to go sleep out on the couch. I showed him an ounce of affection, and he got spooked, of course.
“Hey, uh, I was wondering… are you going to be busy later this evening? I hate to ask, but you’re, like, my last resort,” Taryn asks.
I snort. “Nothing makes a guy feel more special than being told he’s a last resort,” I snark. “Whaddaya need?”
“Well, I only say last resort because I know you, uhm, don’t come around the pub anymore because you’re trying to stay sober, but, uh, I need a bartender tonight, and, uhm, I was hoping you might be able to, I dunno, work a shift or two? At least until I can train the new guy or track down my dad…”
Track down his dad? Huh. Apparently, I’m not the only one Gordy’s fuckin’ ghosted. That’s… concerning. Me, I can see, but his own son too?
Pushing away at the niggling worry, I ask Taryn, “New bartender you hired didn’t pan out?” No shock there, really. Wagner’s had nothing nice to say about the new face behind the bar. Not that he’s much for doling out compliments anyway, but still…
“Third no call no show in under a month,” Taryn scoffs. “And people bitch about the work ethic ofmygeneration…” He sighs. “Anyway, I hate begging, but I know you know your way around the bar, and you’re already familiar with the crowd here. I’m thinking it might be busy tonight, what with it being our first karaoke night and all. I’ve done a little last minute shifting. Morgan’s going to run food for me, that way I can pull Dominic back to man the grill. I’ll tend, but for the crowd I’m expecting, I think I’ll need a barback to be more efficient.”
“Wow, you’ve really stepped up your game,” I note, bemused. “You’ll be taking over the place in no time.”
“That’s the goal,” he replies. “Almost saved up enough to make Dad an offer. Besides, he’s been scarce since at least mid-February, so it’s notas though he’s totally invested in this place anymore. Not sure if this is his test to make sure I’m fit to take over or what, but I wish I just knew if he was okay, at least…”
“Wait, you haven’t heard from him—at all—since mid-February?” I ask, seeking further confirmation that it’s not just me Gordy’s shut out.
“No,” Taryn replies. “You either?”
Alright, now I’mgenuinelyworried. Gordy has a history of plotting his own demise—what if? God no, I don’t even want tothinkabout that…
“I’ve been trying to give him space since moving out. Figured he wanted it, so I haven’t pushed,” I admit. Not that it’s been entirely easy for me to do. No, in fact, it’s been one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.
