“Jane?” I ask, turning to my daughter. “The usual?”
“Can you have Brittany make it? She gives me more cherries than you do.”
I laugh. “Sure. Y’all want any appetizers? We just added fried pickles to the menu last week. All on the house, of course.”
“Some fries too?” Jane asks with a hopeful look.
“Sure, why not? How about some burgers?”
They all agree, so I head to the back and put in their food order, then start on their drinks, asking Brittany to make Jane’s.
“Shouldn’t you be sitting with them?” Brittany asks, her gaze on their table.
They’re all deep in conversation, Jane too, but I feel strangely hesitant to join them. They’re all smart—my daughter included—and while I’m street smart, I’ve never been that book smart. Coding and building computers are over my head.
Help a patron pick out a new beer they’ll love? I’m your man. When a piece of equipment goes out, I can usually fix it myself. But all that coding shit is for people more intelligent than I am. If I go over there, I’ll only look like an idiot.
“So they’re not building the computer?” Brittany asks.
“I have no idea what’s going on. I think Mikey’s hoping to drown his sorrows over losing a bet on horses.”
Brittany makes a face. “Should Jane be part of that?”
I shake my head. “Hell if I know.”
A group comes in for happy hour, so I send Brittany over with the drinks and food. But the more I think about the whole thing, the more it starts to piss me off. I didn’t ask Holly to build my daughter a computer—it was her idea, and then she hounded me until I agreed. She was the one to set up the time today, and I paid extra to have that part sent here in a rush order. Now Holly’s helping her friend drown his gambling issues with a beer and burger I gave him on the house, while I’m over here looking like a chump.
Were they even going to build a computer, or was Holly just jerking my daughter around?
Just like she did to me a year ago.
Why in God’s name did I think I could trust her with my daughter’s heart when I couldn’t trust her with my own?
Good and worked up, I head toward the opening of the bar and round the corner, making long strides to their booth.
“Jane, it’s time for you to go upstairs and do your homework.”
Her mouth drops open, and her eyes widen. “But Dad, we haven’t started building the computer.”
My gaze jerks to Holly’s stunned face. “And it looks like you’re not going to get to it anytime soon.”
Holly’s jaw clenched, fury building in her eyes.
“It’s obvious you’ve got your hands full consoling your buddy here over his gambling losses, and I don’t think it’s appropriate to include my daughter in his misery party.”
Jane’s stunned expression turns defensive. “Butterscotch and Applejack aren’t horses, Dad. They’re women on a dating app.”
I blink, then narrow my gaze “What?”
Jesus, is Mikey testing the same dating app I’m using? He works with Holly, so it’s not out of the question. I didn’t think they’d be testing their own app, is all.
My imagination summons an image of Cherrybomb looking like Mikey, only with longer hair.
I draw in a sharp intake of air, but no one seems to notice. Holly is shooting Jane a look of surprise, and Mikey’s shoulders are hunched as he stares down at his empty plate.
Jane rolls her eyes. “I’m eight, Holly, not stupid. I can put things together.”
Holly’s lips pull back in a grimace.
