He glances at the clock over the door. “Water, please. I have to pick Amelie up from dance class in an hour.” I get him the water, put a bowl of popcorn in front of him, and then tend to the new people who sat down. I spend longer at the other end of the bar than necessary and finally make my way back to Nick.
“All my staff listen to your radio show at night.”
I try not to smile but secretly love that his staff is listening. “What about you?”
Nick lifts his shoulder. “I’ve tuned in. I can’t believe these people call-in and talk about their lives like this. Air their dirty laundry to a complete stranger.”
“Every night,” I say and then shake my head. “Monday through Friday, but I need to change it because I don’t want to continue to miss Mack’s games.”
Nick nods. “How do you have the answers?”
I shrug. “They come naturally. A few, I’ve hesitated on. I speak from the heart though. Each time, I’m like what would I do.”
He laughs. “WWLD?”
“Something like that.” I can’t keep the grin off my face. “Regardless, I tell them what they already know or feel. Most of them have the answer before they dial. They want someone they don’t know or who doesn’t know the other party to confirm what their heart feels.” I cap the bottle in my hand. “Turns out that’s most of the job. Being the voice to the feeling.”
“Maybe I should call-in sometime,” he says. A joke, mostly. Neither of us laughs.
“Make sure you tell my producer your name so I can hang up on you.”
Nick scoffs. “As much as you hate me, you’d never do that.”
Unfortunately, he’s right. He’s important to my son, so I pretend. And I like his kid. Despite Mack dating my daughter.
Nick sets money down on the bar and stands. At the door he stops and turns around. “The amends one,” he says. “The guy trying to reach his son.” He takes an inhale of breath. “You gave him good advice. Don’t be afraid to take it yourself.”
Nick walks out the door, with those words lingering in the air, with his glass sweating a ring into the bar. Was Nick talking about us and our situation?
For as long as I can remember, Nick has been the enemy. The man who was there, raising my son. The man who asked Josie to marry him first, who shared a house with her, a bed. It took a long time for me to be able to stand in the same room with him, without wanting to put my fist through a wall. I did that for Noah and continue to do so because mine and Nick’s lives are intertwined. It’s not even small-town shit. It’s family. As much as I hate to admit it, Nick Ashford has become a part of my family.
I shiver at the thought.
But it’s hard to deny when he stopped by here, to tell me about Mack’s invites, and that says something about where his head is at.
The door opens, pulling me from my reverie. I nod toward the people who came in, and get back to work, pushing all thoughts of Nick from my mind until a song about finding love comes on the jukebox and there’s my wife’s voice, asking me find someone for Nick. As if I’m some holly jolly matchmaker.
I’m a businessman. A rock star who is moonlighting as the male version of Dear Abby. I’m not the Tinder, Bumble, or Hinge of Beaumont. Besides, I have standards, and Nick knows everyone I know.
He can do it himself.
It’s a bad idea for me to get involved in Nick’s romantic life.
Very, very bad.
He’ll want to double date, go to the movies, and have intimate dinners at some five-star restaurant where my name gets us a view of skyline.
Ugh.
The door opens and a woman pulls the stool Nick vacated. I set a coaster down in front of her. “What can I get for you?”
“I hear this is the best place in town for a beer.”
“Whoever said that I’m honored.”
She extends her hand across the bartop. “I’m Teagan Lowery.”
Her name rings a bell. “Ah, you know my wife, Josie. I’m Liam. Our daughter is Paige Westbury.”
