A laugh chuffs out of him. “It won’t come to that. Look, you need to meet with Derek and break the whole thing down. He can help you come up with a plan.”
Derek, of course! He’s been my accountant for years—he does Cory’s books too, that’s how I found him. It didn’t occur to me to meet with him.
I feel a jolt of hope as I grab my phone and text Derek. Maybe he can find some kind of loophole or unnecessary expense I’ve completely overlooked. I should have met up with him months ago.
My phone buzzes with Derek’s prompt reply, saying that he can meet me tomorrow afternoon. Fantastic.
I down the rest of my drink and pull Cory into a hug. “Thanks, Cors. I knew you’d be able to help me.”
“Of course. And if you ever need a loan, you just have to say the word.”
I offer him a grateful smile. “Thanks. Right, I’m off.” I push to my feet. Time to go home, get a good night’s rest, and prepare for a productive meeting with Derek.
5
Ireally don’t feel like doing this.
Actually, what I feel like doing is going out dancing with Alex and Geoff and forgetting my problems. What Ishouldbe doing right now, instead of sipping a drink and waiting for a date, is brainstorming every possible way I can increase sales in my store. That’s going to take a miracle.
I met with Derek at the store today, and something very odd happened; Mark showed up with the new lease agreement, at a lower rate than what he offered yesterday. He said he’d thought about it and while he still had to raise the rent, he was prepared to “meet me halfway.” I’m not sure what kind of game he’s playing, but this has not reassured me in the slightest—not even when Derek crunched the numbers and told me that if we can “just” increase sales by twenty percent we’ll be “fine.” I decided not to point out that if I knew how to increase sales, I’d already be doing it.
Instead, I accepted a Tinder date at Bounce with a guy named Shane. Well, we’d already arranged to meet, but with all the business panic I’d forgotten. When he texted to remind me, I thought it might be a nice distraction from everything.
There’s no sign of Cory tonight, but Myles is in rare form. I’ve already seen him perform for two different groups of women and I’ve only been here ten minutes. Now he’s languishing against the bar in front of me, his gaze wandering over my dress when he thinks I’m not looking. And every time I catch him and shoot him a look that saysreally?he just smiles sheepishly and shrugs. I knew he was only being reserved the other night because of Cory. Still, Myles’s presence is oddly comforting, especially with Cory not around.
“Hey, Cat.” Josie wanders over from where she’s been mixing mojitos, and leans across the bar to peek under my stool. “Stevie with you?”
“Not tonight,” I say with an apologetic smile. Josie’s been bartending here for a few years and she’s a real sweetheart—a total animal lover, volunteering a lot of her time at local shelters whenever she’s not working. Cory talks about her a lot, and sometimes I catch him watching her work with this look in his eye. It’s not surprising—she’s beautiful: late twenties, slim, short dark hair, big green eyes and a wide smile. For a while I thought maybe she’d be the one to get Cory to give up his playboy ways and settle down, but they just seem to be friends.
She straightens up and leans against the bar beside us. “Another date?”
I nod, stirring my drink.
Myles glances from Josie to me. “You have a lot of dates here?”
“Yeah. Cory likes to keep an eye on things, in case it goes south.”
“And that happens a lot?” he asks.
“What, does it turn to shit a lot?” I lift a shoulder, watching as Josie goes to clear some glasses from a booth. “More often than I’d like, yeah.”
Myles’s brow knits. “So why keep doing it? You don’t really think you’re going to meet someone this way, do you?”
“Well… I see it as a bit of a numbers game. Like, I know that a lot of the guys I meet on apps are not going to be great, or they’re just going to be looking for something casual or whatever. But I figure that if I just meet enough of them, statistically,onehas to be decent. And that’s all I need: one decent guy.”
Myles rubs his scruffy chin, contemplating me. “I guess,” he says at last. “But… whatever happened to meeting people the old-fashioned way?”
I trail my eyes over him. With his hipster distressed-on-purpose fitted T-shirt, tattooed arm and nightly performances for the ladies, he hardly seems the type to be old-fashioned. “What, you mean like in bars?”
A little smile quirks the corner of his mouth. He turns to serve a couple seated a few stools away, then focuses his attention back on me. “You could meet someone at a coffee shop, or something.”
“Have you ever met anyone at a coffee shop?”
“No.” He chuckles, reaching for the vodka to top up my glass.
“That only happens in movies.”
He nods, thinking. “Maybe at the gym?”
