"Well then, I'm not sure I can top that gesture. Good for you. I know Mr. Carson hired good help when he saw it, so he must have seen something special in you." The conversation is uncomfortable, awkward even. I want this man to leave because he's pissing me off. "Anyway, once again, please accept my condolences, and when you're ready to discuss the details of your granddad's will, come see me so we can hash out the details." Mr. Leigh hands me a business card, but Lenore snatches it before I have a chance to take it.
"You have possession of his will?" Lenore asks.
"Well, of course. Mr. Carson wanted to be my first client after investing so much into my education and practice. You can't blame the man for wanting to reap what he sowed. Am I right?"
"I do suppose," Lenore says, placing her arm around my shoulders. "Well, we will be in touch after the dust settles. Thank you for your kindness." Lenore is purely speaking with pre-programmed words. It's easy to tell she doesn't mean any of it.
The moment Mr. Leigh walks away; Lenore pulls me to the side of the building. "That man is trouble. We can't trust him for a second. Your granddad, rest his soul...his greatest weakness was seeing the good in everyone, even those who don't have a good bone in their body."
I've never beenbehind this bar, but I've sat in front of it more times than my liver can thank me for. "Do you know anything about mixing drinks?" Crow asks.
"Well, I've watched your sorry ass spill a million of them. Can't be that hard."
"Funny," he groans. "Here's a cheat sheet. I'll post it below the tap in case you need it."
"Got it," I tell him.
"We moved the girls into our bedroom today so you can have the extra room. I don't want you having to sleep on the couch every night after being behind bars for so long." Crow looks uncomfortable while saying this, like he's leaving something out of his explanation.
"You sure you don't have a problem with me staying with you?" I ask, grabbing a couple of the wet glasses from the crate.
"Idon't have a problem…" he says, leaving me to wonder what he isn’t saying.
"But Kacee does," I finish it for him.
Crow grumbles something I can’t decipher, and moves across the main area of the bar, straightening each stool out. "Look, you were put in prison for rape," he says.
"Statutory," I correct him. It's a big fucking difference. “And, it wasn’t exactly my fault.”
"Yeah, that's what I meant. In any case, the whole idea freaked Kacee out a bit. We have two little girls, as you know."
"Yeah, your kids are three and four, Crow.Jesus. I was only five years older than that girl."
"I get it. I do," Crow says as he slips his hands into his back pockets. "The wife made me say something, that's all."
"I understand," I tell him. I'd like to turn down his offer to let me stay with him, but winter is coming. The temps are going to drop, and I can't be sleeping outside like I used to. "Whatever makes you feel comfortable works for me."
"Thanks, man. I appreciate it your understanding. You know I don't think anything less of you, right?" I didn't do anything wrong. I was lied to. These accusations are worse than being behind those goddamn bars.
The night passes by in a blur filled with beer and smoke. The stress of figuring out some of the mixed drink recipes keeps me on my toes, and after a little practice, I think I remember most of the popular ones now. Even still, most people just order beer, which is simple to handle. I found my rhythm about an hour before closing, so tomorrow will go a little smoother.
"Dude, you made some good tips tonight," Crow says, handing me a hundred bucks in a wad of tens.
"For real? I made all that?" I ask, a little shocked, considering the place was only half full most of the night. I don't think I've held this much money in my hands since I was seventeen years old. My hand is shaking as I take the money, scared I might wake up from a dream, only to find out I'm still behind bars—or worse.
"The regulars take good care of us, and most of the guys in hereareregulars, so it's all good."
At this rate, I won't have to be living with Crow forever, so that's a plus. It feels good to be doing something too. It kept my mind off every little thing I needed to put into the back of my head for a bit. "That's great. Thanks again for the job," I tell him.
"I should be thanking you," Crow says. "You ready to hit the road?"
I watch as Crow locks up the bar, and we head into the parking lot and over to his truck. Just as I'm climbing inside, something catches my attention from the corner of my eye. A woman is sitting on the steps of the motel and her gold, flat shoes look exactly like the ones Haven had on earlier today. She wouldn't be sitting out here alone, though.
The woman lifts her head as if she sensed me staring, and the light from the street lamp fills her face. "Shit," I say out loud.
"What?" Crow asks.
"I know that chick," I tell him, pointing over at Haven.
