I splutter in disbelief. “You’re kidding. I’m meeting a guy from adating app, Myles. What do you expect me to say? ‘Hello, I’m Catherine Marie Porter. Here’s a DNA sample and my current address’? You’re acting as though I’m giving a fake name, or—”
“Hold on,” he interrupts, glancing down the bar to a pair of young women. He gestures for me to stay put and sidles over to them. I roll my eyes, watching as he goes to perform—telling the women how beautiful they are and how lucky he is to be their bartender this evening—and try not to throw up in my mouth. It hardly seems fair that he’s here judging me when he carries on like that. So I present the best version of myself on a date, who doesn’t? At least I’m not like him; using my job to pick up women.
He returns with that cocky grin on his face again, as if he wasn’t just here a moment ago implying I’m some sort of con artist. “I had a look at your website,” he says, taking a dishcloth and wiping the bar beside me.
“My… website?”
“Yeah, for your store.”
“Oh, right,” I say, bemused. Mark made our website years ago, and it mostly just exists to give people information—all of which they can get from Google, anyway.
“How long have you had it?”
“A while,” I admit.
“Yeah, it’s quite outdated.” He gestures to my glass, silently asking if I’d like a refill, and I shake my head. “And it’s awful to navigate.”
I frown. “Yeah, well, it’s not exactly a priority right now.”
“Have you considered getting it redone?”
I exhale, setting my empty glass down on the bar, the irritation I felt from before returning. This guy really can’t read the room. “Not at the moment.”
“Well, it’s a little old, so—”
“Jesus, Myles.” I push to my feet. “I have enough going on right now. I don’t need this.”
The pair of girls at the end of the bar erupt into giggles over something and we both turn to see. One of them waves to Myles, and I glance between them and him with a knowing look. I’ve spent enough time watching him hit on women here that I have a pretty good handle on his routine. Hell, he tried to hook up with me before he knew I was Cory’s sister.
“Have fun with them tonight.” I smirk, swiping my purse off the bar. “I’ll see you later.”
And with that, I turn on my heel and head through the crowd, out onto the sidewalk. I don’t have time to stay here and argue with Myles. I need to go home and get to work, so I don’t lose my business.
6
Ikick at a clump of grass, the heat from the takeout coffee cups getting uncomfortable in my hands. Where the hell is Geoff? He said he’d be here by now.
“You’re not supposed to do that,” I hear from behind me. I turn to see Geoff gesturing to the grass.
I grunt and thrust one of the takeout cups into his hand. “Here,” I mutter. I didn’t want to waste what little money I have on coffee, but Geoff buys me drinks all the time. It’s the least I can do.
“Thanks.” He eyes me carefully. “Everything okay?”
“No,” I snap. I look at Geoff’s wary face and soften. “Sorry. Let’s walk.”
He falls into step beside me as we head north along The Highline—a public park created on an old elevated railway track, running through the Meatpacking District and Chelsea. Even though it’s one of the nicest spots in the city, I don’t often come up here. Today, it’s beautiful; the sun is high and warm in the cobalt sky, and the raised garden beds along the track are filled with gray birch trees which throw dappled shade across the path. It was Geoff’s idea to get out on our shared day off, and I’m already feeling better for the fresh air and sunshine.
He raises his coffee for a sip and glances at me as we stroll. “So, what’s up?”
“Mark is increasing the rent and I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep the store.”
“Wait.” He stops walking, placing a hand on my arm. “Really?”
I nod, shielding my eyes from the sun to look at him.
“When did you find out?”
“A couple of days ago.”
