Page 8 of The Perfect Heart

I said it because it was the truth. This was about ensuring things ran smoothly here, a lesson I had learned the hard way, not about Halle.

Well, not just about Halle, anyway.

But my answer seemed to mollify my old friend because she took up the rag and started polishing again. “I’m not sure what I did to get on her bad side, but that girl Nicole does not seem to like me at all. The first thing she did when I walked in was glare at me.”

“Oh.” Yeah, that made more sense. Picking up another rag, I swiped at the bar beside Halle—two would make faster work. “Nicole and I were together for a short time. She had a thing for me—has, I guess.”

Halle’s rag faltered. “You and Nicole have a relationship?”

Her words were light, a little too quick.

“Had,” I responded just as quickly. “And it wasn’t really a relationship. We slept together a few times. Hung out a few times. It wasn’t anything.”

“Oh.”

I wasn’t sure, but I might have heard relief in that short answer.

“I know Nicole wanted more, but I broke things off a few months back because I needed to focus on the business.”

At the time, I thought Nicole had taken it well. She hadn’t screamed or yelled, quit her job at the bar, or stopped talking to me. But had she taken an instant dislike to Halle because she knew I had been close to her in school?

“Where is Nicole from?”

Halle’s question pulled me from my thoughts.

“Here. Leavenworth. You don’t remember?”

She shook her head. “No. Should I?”

Faster than Halle at polishing, I reached the end of my part of the counter and stowed the cloth in its cubby. “Nicole went to school with us. She was a year behind, I think.”

Halle’s mouth turned down while a line formed between her eyes, and she leaned an elbow on the table as she thought. It was so adorable, so recognizable, I almost laughed. She’d worn that same look when she was thinking since I had known her. She finally straightened, shaking her head.

“Huh. I just don’t remember her.” Then she gave a little laugh. “I guess that’s not helping me win her over.”

Running a visual check over the glasses, I flashed a grin at Halle. “You never needed help winning popularity contests before.”

Halle had been friends with everyone—except Nicole, I supposed—no matter who they were or where they came from. She had always been able to get people to open up, laugh, and smile. It was something I had always admired about her, especially as a shy kid who didn’t have a lot of friends until Halle burst into my life.

My joking nod to our past didn’t have the desired effect, however. Halle offered me a half smile and returned to polishing the last section of bar top.

“Well, anyway, I’m sure she’ll warm up if you give her a chance.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Halle’s snort only added to the skepticism in her reply. But I hoped it wasn’t true—Nicole couldn’t keep up a grudge for that long, right? She couldn’t be jealous when she wasn’t upset over our breakup, right?

Halle didn’t say anything else, and I watched her for a moment more before I finished up my own closing checks.

Halle was just pulling my beanie over her head as I came out from the back, where I had slipped to grab my coat and keys and lock my office.

“Hey, wait up,” I called, flipping off the bar lights and checking the register one last time before I crossed the room toward her, the steps of my motorcycle boots loud in the quiet. Halle was peering at me in a silent question, her eyebrows raised as she tugged on her gloves.

“I’ll take you home.”

“You don’t have to do that—” Halle had already begun to shake her head.

“I don’t, but I will anyway. And don’t tell me no because I won’t accept that as an answer, so you might as well get in the car.”