Margie, being the wild woman she was, turned to me with wide eyes and snatched my hand, patting it. “Every day, I thank God for you.”
I shifted on my feet, slightly uncomfortable with the praise—and the attention.
“That sounds marvelous. Will you give me a taste test?” she asked, heading to the stove.
Despite this place being a mom-and-pop type place, Margie had a five-star kitchen. It was slightly dated, but five-star, nonetheless. She hobbled over to the prep table, pulling out the menu for tonight, and fished for her glasses in the pocket of her apron. “Where did I put those darn things?” she mumbled, looking down.
I smiled, shaking my head.
Margie was a nut, but I loved her. Early on, she was one of few people in town who didn’t look at me like I was an outsider. She welcomed me with open arms and gave me a job on the spot when I walked in, my short resume clenched tightly in my hands.
The back door opened with a familiar creak that always made my skin feel itchy. I grimaced, looking over my shoulder, and found Rachel, a bartender who worked at the Buoy, storming in.Her dark skin was glowing today, but the anger burning in her dark eyes shifted my usual admiration for her beauty to concern. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
She held up a hand to me. “I just need—sorry that was rude to put my hand up like that,” she breathed, immediately dropping it. She flipped her braids over her shoulder and took a deep breath before looking at me and then Margie. “How can I be in love with a man who acts like he wants me but does nothing to obtain me?”
Oh.
This was about Joey.
Joey was the owner of the Buoy, the local watering hole. It had been around almost as long as this place and had been passed down to him after his father passed. According to local rumors, Joey was never supposed to inherit the bar. He had plans to travel the world, but those plans went up in flames. People say that the Buoy is cursed. That it prevents Joey from ever going after what he wants. The story is that if he did, the bar would take it from him. However, Rachel has been the main reason the Buoy hadn’t gone under. Yes, there were always customers, but Joey, in his grief, let responsibilities pile up.
Rachel was his saving grace.
And she was in love with him.
“It's no fault of your own, my darling girl,” Margie assured in a way that reminded me of the fairy godmother fromCinderella. “He’s just trapped in his own mind.”
“He told me he wanted me.” She let out a sigh that morphed into a regretful groan as she put her hands over her face. A second later, she let them fall, slapping her jean-clad thighs. “Anyway, I don’t have the capacity to deal with him or the bar anymore.” She turned to Margie. “I’m here for a job.”
Margie slowly lowered her glasses. “You haven’t quit him, have you?”
“No, I haven’t. I’m doing that tonight. Margo will be there to soften the blow.”
Margo.
Nine months ago, any mention of the tattooed barista would’ve had me running back to my little house in the hills. Not because she was a bad person or a threat to me. No, Margo was a damn good person, but she was connected to people I couldn’t be connected to. Or people I thought I couldn’t be connected to, at least back then. There had been outside forces that unexpectedly made the new chapter of my life a bit harder to settle into. But now, hearing her name just made me realize that I’d never texted her back the other night.
Shit.
Guilt circled above my head like vultures chanting down at me.
What an inconsiderate bitch. You can’t even text your friends back. Before long, you won’t have any.
“You can’t quit him, Rachel.”
Blinking, I forced myself back to the present. I walked over to the prep table and leaned against it, letting the cool surface ground me.
“You’re just saying that because you’re a hopeless romantic. I was always cautious with your tales of happy endings, and in hindsight, I’m glad I was,” she decreed, folding her arms over her chest. “Now, are you going to give me the job or not?”
“Or not.”
“Margie!” Rachel and I both shot out.
The old woman took her glasses off and wiggled them at us. “I don’t want to hear it. Unless you come back to me after you’ve quit your long-term position at the bar—and given up on Joey completely—then you don’t have a job.” My jaw went slack, but she wasn’t done. “Life is too short to give up on people. Yes, after a time, some people don’t change and—”
“I’ve been there for years, Marg. He hasn’t changed.”
“Not completely, but the difference between Joey and people who don’t change is that he is actually trying.”
