CHAPTER ONE
“Hey, babe. Gimme another beer.”
One of the cheesy tourists from Tennessee has a leer on his somewhat handsome face that makes me want to roll my eyes, but I contain myself. He came into the bar with his friends to watch college football on a Saturday afternoon, and they’re loud. Obnoxious. They can’t stop checking me out, either. Why are they all like this—flirtatious to the point of unbearable?
I need every dollar I can get, so I flash him a smile. “Coming right up.”
I head toward the bar, where Doug, the owner of this fine establishment, has already placed a fresh bottle for my customer on the counter. I offer him a grateful smile, and he lifts a whiskered brown chin in acknowledgment.
I set the bottle on my tray before I head over to the table where the three pretty-faced college boys sit. Their focus is stuck on the big-screen TV playing the game, one of them shouting a string of curse words when the ball gets intercepted.
“Got a lot of money riding on this,” the one who ordered the beer mutters as he checks his phone. I can tell he’s on one of those online betting sites.
I deliver the beer in front of him, making sure I bend over the table as I do, flashing them a boob shot thanks to the deep V of my T-shirt. Anything to get tips.
Two out of the three notice, their gazes now glued to my chest. So typical.
“Thanks,” the other guy mumbles, finally giving me his attention.
“Need anything else?” I glance toward the TV and see the game is almost over. Meaning these customers are going to leave soon, and I hope they give me a decent tip. But they’re young and probably not big spenders, despite what their popped collars and chunky silver watches would have me believe.
“No thanks,” one of them tells me, his tone dismissive. I guess tits are less fun to ogle once the mouth above them starts talking.
I leave their table and head back to the bar, setting my tray on the counter with a too-loud clang. Doug joins me, sucking his teeth like he always does when he’s about to complain. “It’s slow today.”
Nodding, I glance about the space, noting the empty tables. A couple of regulars sit at the other end of the bar, continuously sipping from their drinks while also watching the game. Not that they care what’s on the TV. They’re here every single day, rain or shine, game or no game. I can’t imagine this sort of life. Shuffling into the same dingy bar day in and day out. Talk about depressing.
Despite the lackluster crowd, I’m still a bundle of nerves, trying to build up the courage to tell Doug this is my last shift. Most of the time, I feel like it’s a pity position anyway, but I don’t like the thought of leaving him high and dry. I’m a lot of not-nice things, but unreliable isn’t one of them. I’ve never had the luxury.
“How’s your mom?” The sympathy in Doug’s voice is obvious. Long ago, when I was a little kid, they used to date. Back then, she was a mostly functioning adult and not a complete mess like she is now. Doug came into our lives and paid attention to me, unlike Mom’s other boyfriends. Treated me like I was his own kid. Showered me with attention and gifts, but never in a creepy way. No, more like he actually cared.
Until Mom ruined everything and accused him of cheating on her. Doug’s not a cheater. His mistress is this bar. He has to work constantly to keep up with his bills and doesn’t employ much of a staff. When I came to him a year ago desperate for a job, he reluctantly gave me one, even though at seventeen, I’m not technically old enough to work in a bar.
He pays me under the table in cash, which I really appreciate as well.
“She’s doing okay,” I lie.
It’s easier than telling him the truth and admitting she’s in bad shape. That an opportunity arose for her to go back to rehab, and I don’t have the strength to turn it down, even if it means I have to drop everything and fly halfway around the world. Hard as I’ve tried, I can’t crush the hope that maybe this time it’ll stick. Maybe this time she’ll want to get better. Do better.
Doug’s gaze is assessing, never straying from mine. He sees too much—always has. It makes me want to squirm, but I keep still. “You sure about that?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” My voice is firm, but he looks like he wants to argue. When the door slams, the tension breaks and we both glance toward the entrance. The college guys are gone, their table a mess, a couple of soggy dollars left behind.
I fight the disappointment that threatens to swallow me whole and turn back to Doug. But I guess if there’s enough disappointment to go around, I might as well share it. I paste on a bright smile and dive in. “Look, I don’t know how to tell you this, but … I’m leaving town for a few months. You’ll have to find someone to cover my shifts.”
He gives me a look, one that says he hopes I’ve finally decided to leave. He hates my life almost as much as I do. His voice rises with interest. “A few months? Where you going?”
If he was anyone else, I’d tell him it’s none of his damn business. “Um, I’m going to go see Peter.”
Doug’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Really?”
I nod, knowing how absurd it sounds. Why would I suddenly cross an ocean to spend time with the sperm donor who abandoned me and Mom? Frankly, Doug’s been more of a father figure to me than Peter ever was. “He says he wants us to have a relationship.”
Lies. All lies.
The truth? Peter Vale has a problem, and he thinks I’m the only person who can solve it. In exchange for my help, I demanded he put Mom in rehab. It’s the one way I can justify givinganythingto a man who has not only given me nothing—he’s actively stolen from me. Because if it weren’t for him,Mom would never have lost herself at the bottom of a bottle.
He owes her this.
