by Josie Kerr
Bile rose in Meghan’s throat. Crabtree had been calling at least once a day for the past week, demanding she meet with him, and she’d been putting him off. He kept maintaining that it wasn’t about the pub, and the fact that she’d been added to the official participants list gave her hope that their combative history wasn’t going to eliminate her from the event.
To be excluded from Cabbagetown Eats would be the killing blow for Foley’s. Every year the little bar saw low but consistent sales throughout the summer, although the sales had picked up with the addition of the deck. Then Cabbagetown Eats happened, culminating with the Perfect Pour competition, which Sully had won every year since the event’s inception. That win boosted Foley’s exposure not only in Cabbagetown but also in media around the country and, in fact, all over the world. This exposure led to more traffic and more sales. Include in the “St. Practice Day” concerts and events on the seventeenth of every month, from September through February, leading up to St. Patrick’s Day, which, of course, was the biggest day of the year, and it all added up to solvency to last them through the lean months. Yes, Cabbagetown Eats was vital for the pub’s survival, and Meghan had a sneaking suspicion that Crabtree was acutely aware of that fact. His awareness scared the shit out of her.
Geoffrey Crabtree was the type of man who did not hesitate to exploit a weakness, either real or perceived. He’d done it during their marriage, through both emotional and physical intimidation, which is why she never wanted to be alone with him. Thankfully, Jason instinctively realized this and made sure he was present at all their meetings, “just in case” something came up regarding the updates. She didn’t want to admit all her weaknesses or confess to past bad behavior and disastrous decision making. She doubted Jason would judge her because he just wasn’t that kind of person. She knew all the sordid details, and that was plenty.
“Knock, knock.” Jason poked his head in the door. “I’m here now and Ryan’s taken off. You good?”
Meghan swallowed hard, emotion suddenly getting the best of her. “Yeah,” she whispered.
Jason stepped into the office and shut the door behind him. “No, you’re not.”
Meghan wagged her head around in a half nod, half shake, laughing while tears ran down her face.
“Meghan, darlin’, what’s wrong?” He came and knelt beside her, took her hand in his, and just held it.
“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong right now, but it could all go to shit at any moment, and that scares me to death,” she confessed. “There are just so many ways this could fall apart, and then I’d have nothing. No pub, no da, nothing.”
She could see Jason swallow hard. “You’d have your friends, and that’s something. There are some people who’d say it was everything.”
“Oh God, Jason. There is absolutely no reason you should be doing any of this.” She pulled her hand from his. “Why are you doing it?”
“Because I’m your friend, and this pub’s been a place where so many of us could come and blow off steam and celebrate and commiserate and wallow. And it’s part of you, and Sully, too, and we owe it to him to keep it going for as long as possible.”
“Jaysus. You’ve got those Hallmark speeches down, don’t you?” She laughed and plucked a tissue from the box on her desk. “You’re a great guy, Jason. Really, really great.”
Jason sighed, seeming suddenly uncomfortable. “Oh, Meghan. I’m an asshole.”
She snorted. “Well, yeah, but you’re a pretty sweet asshole.”
“No, honey, I’m an asshole. I . . . did everything you asked me not to do.”
“What? Jason, what did you do?” Panic was about to suffocate Meghan. “What did you do?!”
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then opened them. “I asked Kyle to look into Crabtree’s background, and into your marriage. I know, Meghan. I know about the DV calls, about his reputation as a crook, about a lot of things.”
“Why did you do that, Jason? Why? When I specifically asked you not to?”
“I couldn’t help—”
“Jaysus! Yes, you could! All you had to do was take me at my word, and everything would have been just fine!” She shoved him away. “Get out. Go home for today. I can’t deal with you right now.”
“Meghan—”
“Just go, Jason. Please.”
For a few moments he stayed there on the floor where she’d pushed him, then he stood up and made to leave. Pausing before he walked out the door, he turned around to face her. “Call me and tell me if you want me to come back. We’re far enough along that I can hand it off to another crew. I have some people that I trust.”
Then he slipped out the door, and Meghan sat behind her desk, numb and heartbroken.
Chapter 13
What in the world did she just do? Did she just really kick Jason out of the pub? Forget that he’s the one saving her ass with the whole Cabbagetown Eats business—Jason had supported her emotionally and physically the past few years and never asked or expected anything in return.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit.
Meghan leapt from the chair and headed out of the office, intent on tracking Jason down and apologizing, even if it meant wrestling him to the ground and sitting on him. She bolted upstairs and grabbed her purse and car keys, then ran down to the pub’s main room to tell Ronnie where she was going.
“Ronnie, I’m—” She froze when she saw Geoffrey standing in the middle of the room looking around. “Geoffrey.”
“Meghan—just who I wanted to see.” He smiled and a prickle ran down her spine.
“I’m on my way out. I’ll call you when—”
“This really can’t wait, Meghan.” Geoffrey got between her and the door. “It won’t take a lot of time, but it’s important.”
“Geoffrey—” Meghan swallowed hard and inhaled deeply, trying to stem her panic. Geoffrey had a predatory nose for desperation, and Meghan knew she was radiating that in spades. Maybe it was best she dealt with him now so she could give Jason her full attention. “Okay, what?”
He smiled again, this time a little smaller, with a hint of the familiar meanness she’d not forgotten, that she’d never forget. “I have to say, I’m impressed with the work that’s been completed. Of course, I haven’t inspected it thoroughly, but on the surface, it looks fantastic.”
Oh, come ON! “Jason and his company do very good work. So . . . what did you want to talk to me about?”
“Well, I realize that your father was a very important part of Cabbagetown Eats, and he will be sorely missed this year. I’ve been looking over the events from the previous years and cannot deny the influence he’s had in the success of the Perfect Pour contest as far as national and international recognition.”
Meghan nodded, thinking to herself that all this sounded suspiciously positive. Geoffrey and Sully hated each other from the moment they met. Sully hid his dislike as much as he could for Meghan’s sake; the same could not be said for Geoffrey, who went as far as to undermine Meghan’s relationship with her father. She knew he blamed Sully’s interference for the demise of their marriage, which was not the case at all; rather, it was indicative of Geoffrey’s habit of casting blame everywhere except on himself. And Geoffrey was not one to recognize another’s hard work. The Geoffrey Meghan knew would claim the Perfect Pour competition was marginally successful until he got involved, so to hear him praise her father set her on high alert.
“My father worked very hard to make the whole event successful, but it’s true the Perfect Pour competition was his baby.” Meghan rocked back and forth, impatient for Geoffrey to deliver whatever news he was going to.
“I noticed that he was on the list of competitors for this year, and, well, that obviously isn’t happening.”
“I’m representing Foley’s for him. That was discussed and decided months ago at the competition’s organizational meeting.”
“Who exactly discussed and decided?”
Meghan shrugged, hoping she didn’t seem as panicked as she felt. “
Ben Atcherson, the guys from the other Cabbagetown pubs, the reps from the beer distributors.”
“Oh.” Geoffrey rocked back and forth on his heels, sucking his teeth as he shook his head in disappointment. “Well, as you know, there’s been some significant changes in the way the event’s run this year, and you are not on the official list of competitors we turned in to the new official sponsor of the Cabbagetown Perfect Pour.”
“So what does this mean, exactly?”
His expression changed from disappointment to mournful. “Unfortunately, that means Foley’s doesn’t have a place in the competition this year. I’m sorry, Meghan. I know this is a huge blow; that’s why I wanted to tell you in person.”
“What? That’s not—that—how—” Meghan took a deep breath before continuing. “What can I do to reclaim Foley’s spot?”
He shook his head, his mouth and set of his shoulders saying he was sorry but his eyes contradicting. “It’s out of my hands.” He shrugged. “It’s probably of little consolation, but the sponsor has agreed to let you say a few words at the event, you know, in remembrance.”
“Oh, that’s very kind of them.”
Geoffrey raised his eyebrows. “Oh, sounds like someone’s a little prickly.”
Meghan reminded herself Foley’s would definitely fail if she was in prison for killing this motherfucker.
“I’m just . . . very disappointed.” That wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth, either.
Geoffrey shrugged again. “Well, it does seem like this is an awful lot of work and money to sink into this place if it’s not really going to be featured in the crawl.”
“Wait—what? You said—”
“I said that we’d revisit after the appropriate changes were made and you were fully aware of the timeline. There were some printing and advertising deadlines that I was not aware of because I came into this event late. Trust me, if I’d been involved from the beginning, Cabbagetown Eats would be unrecognizable as the little, rinky-dink food and beverage fair from the past.”
“God, I hate you.”
“I don’t really care. These are the facts, Meghan. Looks like you have some things to think about.”
Without saying goodbye, Geoffrey walked out the door of the pub, leaving Meghan staring after him, totally in shock.
☆☆☆
Three days. She hadn’t heard from Jason in three days. Unable to stand it, she swallowed her pride and went to his house. The weekly neighborhood newspaper sat on the front porch, and she might have peeked in the mailbox when the door just happened to fall open when she’d banged on the front panel—oops—but there wasn’t much in there, either. The porch light was on, but it had been on the day she’d come over to return his wallet, too, so even that didn’t tell her much, other than she must have really, really, really fucked up her relationship with Jason.
Without the stress of a traumatic event to distract her, this time away from him made her realize made her realize that this thing between the two of them was a relationship. A weird, antagonistic, flirty, sexy, intimate relationship that she really missed.
Hiccup.
Of fucking course.
She sank down into one of the rockers positioned on the front porch and heaved a sigh. Things had gone from hopeful to utter shite in literally twenty minutes and had stayed firmly on the scatological end of the spectrum since. She desperately needed someone to talk to, to bounce ideas off of, to maybe help her blow off a little steam, because everything was getting to be too much to bear.
She got up, peered in the window, and called his home phone. She could hear the phone ringing inside the house as she stood with her face smashed against the glass like a complete lunatic, but no Jason. Dammit. Then she called his cell phone for the million-billionth time, and the call rolled directly to voicemail. Which was different from the other two days where it rang for a decent amount of time. Either his battery was dead or he’d rejected her call. Jaysus, please don’t let him have rejected the call.
She was walking to her car when an SUV pulled in behind her, blocking her in, and Alex, Dan’s boyfriend, got out of the car.
“Meghan.” He seemed surprised to see her, and not a little bit confused. “What . . . are you doing here?”
“Hey, Alex. Um, I was seeing if Jason was around.” Hiccup. “But it looks like he’s not.”
Alex’s forehead wrinkled with concern. “Jason didn’t call you?”
“No . . . ?” Another, different kind of prickle crawled up her spine. “What’s going on, Alex?”
“Jason, Dan, and Ryan all went to Texas to check on one of the guys they served with. They left late Tuesday night.”
Meghan sank against her car. They’d had their argument on Tuesday. Shit. “Have you heard from any of them?”
“Not really. Dan texted me to say they got there safely and he’d let me know when they were headed back if they were going to be more than a few days.” He sighed. “That’s really all I know, other than they all seemed upset. I mean, Dan doesn’t get rattled, but he was shaken by whatever happened. Jason and Ryan didn’t even come in—Dan just grabbed his duffel bag and lit out when they pulled into the driveway.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“No, I don’t think it is.” Alex chuckled. “I feel kind of crazy right now, not knowing what’s going on.”
“I get it,” Meghan replied with a laugh of her own. “Um, this might sound weird, but do you want to get supper? I’m starving and”—hiccup—“I have a feeling we could both use the company right about now.”
Alex nodded. “Sure. I’d love to. Um, let me get Jason’s mail and the newspaper, and we’ll head out.”
“Okay.” Meghan squeezed her eyes shut and said a silent prayer for Jason and his friends, and for the unknown Marine they’d all gone to see.
Chapter 14
“Hey, man, we’re almost to the house.” Jason elbowed Ryan, who swatted him back. Any other time, this exchange would have devolved into a lighthearted shoving match. Today, though, no one had the physical or mental energy to do much.
“Fuck.” Ryan grimaced as he shifted in the passenger seat. He sighed and rolled his neck and shoulders. “This is gonna suck for a few days.”
“It’s gonna suck for a lot longer than that.” Jason swallowed any other commentary down. They were all hurting, and he didn’t trust himself not to lash out and make an ass of himself. Ryan, of course, would understand, but Jason also knew he didn’t need to make matters more painful than they already were.
Junior was visible on the front porch from down the street, obviously waiting for them to arrive. He lifted his hand in greeting as Jason pulled into the driveway.
“You wanna come in for coffee?”
“Nah. I just wanna go home and . . .” Jason swallowed down the jealousy that suddenly threatened to choke him.
“It’s going to be okay. Jase, look at me.”
Jason clenched his jaw and turned to Ryan, who searched his face for something. “It’s all good, Bubba. Go let Junior take care of you.”
Ryan opened his mouth but ended up snapping it shut without saying anything. He squeezed Jason’s shoulder, grabbed his duffel from the back seat, and got out of the car. Just to torture himself, Jason waited until Ryan joined his husband on the front porch, where Junior embraced him tightly before reaching for the screen door. Ryan gave Jason a significant look and waved goodbye, and Jason nodded and backed out of the driveway.
He took the long way home, not even trying to avoid the early morning traffic that was already thick in spots. He debated stopping off at the usual diner for breakfast, but he knew he’d just throw it up, plus he was just so damn tired. They’d spent twenty-eight hours of the previous ninety on the road, trading off so they could drive through and still make it to Abilene without killing themselves or someone else.
He slammed his hand on the steering wheel, hard. The physical pain was a welcome respite, so he did it again, and again. Only when the
guy in the adjacent car gave him an alarmed look did he stop, and by that time, the side of his left fist was red and swollen, the skin broken in a few places. It was going to be awesome trying to grip a hammer or do any other work with that.
He pulled off the interstate and made his way into town, his exhaustion growing as he got closer to the house. When he caught himself nodding off at a red light, he knew he’d have to crash for a while before doing anything else. Hell, he might take one of the sleeping pills his doc had prescribed, just to ensure he’d stay asleep.
Jason turned the corner and made his way down his sleepy street. A streetlamp snapped off as he drove past, leaving his headlights as the only illumination. His house was set back on the lot, with an expansive front yard that was perfect for kids to careen across in the summer and for a Nativity scene or Santa display in the winter. Not that he’d done any of that so far—maybe this year.
He turned in to the driveway, the gravel crunching under the tires. There was no one on his front porch waiting for him, so he pulled into the detached garage and parked. He sat in the car for a long time, forcing himself to keep his mind as blank as possible and not to let the voices inside his head begin the litany of criticism he knew was coming.
He awoke when his head hit the steering wheel, so he grabbed his bag and got out of the truck. He must have still been half-asleep because he thought he saw a figure leaning against the railing of the back deck.
“Jason?”
She laughed when he stopped dead and blinked.
“Meghan? How—”
She stepped down the stairs of the deck and met him in the middle of the backyard. “Alex called me when Dan got home.”
“Since when are you and Alex calling each other?”
“Since a few days ago.” She laid her hand on his arm, and he swore he’d never felt anything better in his whole life. “I’m so sorry, Jason. So, so, sorry.”
He nodded, his mind still muddled with exhaustion and grief.
“Okay, I just wanted to make sure you got home. Um, when you’re ready to talk, I’d like to, you know, about, well, everything.” Meghan started to walk away, and Jason grabbed the hand she’d laid on his arm.