Jacks: I want to meet him, too. He sounds like good people.
Me: The best.
Me: I’m going to tellErik next.
Jacks: Yeah?
Me: Tyler says he already knows. Or suspects. And that if I don’t tell him it’ll become “a whole thing” involving a large Scandinavian man staring at me in silence.
Jacks: That sounds terrifying.
Me: You have no idea.
Jacks: You okay?
Me: Better than okay. I feel like I can breathe for the first time in months.
Jacks: ??
Me: Did you send me a heart emoji?
Jacks: I am deeply layered, like tres leches without all the milk. Now, go talk to your Viking.
I pocketed the phone, took one more breath, and went to find Erik.
Chapter 29
Jacks
Tuesday night at Barbacks was steady but not slammed. It was the kind of night where we had a good flow of customers, with regulars nursing their usual drinks, an older couple celebrating an anniversary in the corner booth, and a group of college kids playing pool and getting louder with each round. It was constant, but nothing that required the full-court press of a game night or weekend rush.
I was restocking the beer coolers when my phone buzzed against my hip.
PuckingSkylerShaw: Free to talk for a sec?
I glanced around.
Finn was wiping down tables.
Benji was charming a group of office workers who’d come straight from happy hour somewhere else.
The anniversary couple was settled and content.
Me: Give me two minutes.
I caught Finn’s eye and pointed toward the back hallway. He nodded, understanding the universal bar language for “personal call, be right back.”
My phone rang as I stepped into the relative quiet of the back hallway.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey.” His voice was bright, almost buzzing with energy. “So, I talked to Erik.”
“Yeah? How’d that go?”
“Better than I could have imagined.” The words tumbled out fast, like he couldn’t contain them. “Jacks, hetotallyknew. Tyler was right. He’s been putting pieces together since Calgary.”
“And?”
