“Yes, I could.” I smile, then tent my fingers together on the desk. “So, what brings you by today?” I’ve adored Hope since the day she came into the bar as a tourist and customer, saw that I was shorthanded and struggling to keep up with orders, and offered to step in and serve drinks. But my personal life, or lack thereof, is off-limits, even with my favorite well-meaning sweetheart.
“Sorry if I overstepped.”
“Don’t give it another thought.” Waving my hand as if it’s no big deal, I try to keep my attention on her face, but it’s difficult not to look at her hands caressing her very large baby bump. Having a baby was on mymaybesomedaylist when I was younger. I always assumed it was a decision, that I could start a family whenever I wanted. Until I found out I couldn’t.
“I was wondering if it’d be possible to have a private party here the night before the wedding. Not in the main bar area, obviously,” she adds quickly. “We’d like to rent the small, upstairs room if it’s not already booked for someone else. And only if you’ll be able to take the night off from working so you can be at the party as a guest.”
Opening my laptop to check schedules is strictly for show. Pulling someone in to work behind the bar downstairs won’t be a problem. And the upstairs room isn’t booked. I know it, and so does Hope. In the six months she worked for me, the upstairs room was never used. Never advertised. Never mentioned.
People who know I live above The Corner Bar probably assume my living space takes the entire second floor, but my apartment is just a smidge over half. A cozy and simple one-bedroom is all I’ve ever needed.
Hope only knows about the small, upstairs bar room because she found me up there on another of her many unexpected drop-in visits. Fortunately, I was just sitting quietly on a barstool, staring at the small, empty platform. Not crying, as I stilldo sometimes, even though it’s been years since the goodbye conversation that broke my heart.
The day she found me up there, I told Hope I was mulling over utilizing the space. I’ve been a bartender nearly all my adult life, so selling a story convincingly is easy. Plus, it wasn’t a straight-up lie. Once upon a time, I did contemplate expanding my business to include that room. The perfect space for private, intimate performances—the kind a nonhuman musician might give for open-minded, trustworthy locals who were aware of “others” before the rest of the world had an inkling of monsters living on the fringes of our communities.
Then everything changed.
“Cate?”
Hearing my name snaps me out of my internal spiral. “Sorry about that.” An apology, I’ll give. Not an explanation. “Yes, you’re more than welcome to use the upstairs room for your party. I’ll need an approximate number of guests so that I can pull in extra staff for the bar. Will you want floor service also?”
“Floor service won’t be necessary, and I’ll text you later today with the number of guests.”
“Sounds good. Open bar, or will your guests be purchasing their drinks?”
“Open bar. And if the guests don’t order enough to make it worthwhile, you can charge us the average amount per person for this sort of thing.”
“I won’t be charging you anything, my dear. I’m covering all the expenses and you can consider it a wedding gift.”
“Cate, that’s too much.”
Again, I wave a hand at her. “It’s my pleasure, truly. Watching you and Ogram find happiness together and fully embrace your mate bond has been a wonderful treat for my heart.”
Despite her pumpkin-sized baby bump, Hope practically springs from the chair. She’s at my side of the desk and leaning down to hug me before I’ve closed the laptop. “Thank you. Not just for this amazing gift. For everything, starting with the wisdom you shared the first night we met. Your insight into trolls and mate bonds meant so much to me, and I’ll always be grateful because it helped me trust that even though my feelings for Ogram happened fast, they were deep and real.”
“You’re welcome.” The words come out a little rough as I swallow hard while returning her hug. Thank goodness she’s in no hurry to release me, because I’m fighting like hell to hold back tears.
“Can I tell you something?” she asks quietly. “Something personal that I’ve wanted to say for a long time, but I worried it might offend you.”
A snorted laugh pushes past the ball of emotions wedged in my throat. “Well, with a lead-in like that, how can I say no?”
Laughing softly, she eases out of the embrace. “I’m so emotional about everything these days,” she says, swiping moisture from her rosy cheeks. “The doctor says it’s possible my hormones are more heightened than regular human pregnancy levels because the baby has troll DNA, and everything about them is more intense.”
“Makes sense to me.” Maintaining my smile takes effort, but I do it for her. It’s not her fault this subject is like salt in a wound. “I’m sure your doctor will take excellent care of you and your baby.”
Nodding, she tucks her long, dark hair behind her ears, then gently pats her cheeks while exhaling slowly. “You’re right, of course. As always.”
If only being right didn’t hurt so much sometimes. I push the old hurt aside and focus on my pure-hearted friend. “So, what personal thing that might offend me did you want to share?”
She takes my gentle teasing the friendly way I intended, another soft laugh seeming to clear away the weepiness. But only briefly. The tears flow again as soon as she speaks. “My parents suck.”
“Oh, sweetie.” Standing, I pull her into my arms, as much as that’s possible with her belly. “I know, I know,” I say, gently stroking her hair and rocking her where we stand. And I do know, because she came to me in tears the day her parents disowned her after learning she’d fallen in love with a monster. “What can I do?”
“Give me away at the wedding? Because if I could choose someone to be my mother, it’d be you.”
My heart feels as if doubles in size. Hugging her tighter, I close my eyes and let the tears come. “And if I’d ever been blessed with a daughter, I would have loved for her to be just like you.” I press a kiss to her temple, then ease backward enough to bring us eye to eye. “Escorting you to your devoted mate would be my absolute honor.”
“Thank you,” she says, coming in for another quick hug before stepping back. “I planned to walk down the aisle alone because that’s how I basically did everything in life before coming to Harmony Glen. But yesterday, while I was having one of my hormone-fueled emotional moments, I realized that I haven’t had to do anything alone since I got here. Everyone I’ve met hasn’t just helped, they’vewantedto help. Especially you. You’ve given me trust, insight, employment, flexibility, friendship, and more.”
