The Bartender (Modern Love World)

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The Bartender (Modern Love World) Page 19

by Piper Rayne


  I know better than to think someone won’t let me down. I let myself get swept up in Cole, but this is the reminder I needed.

  “Please just get away from the door.” I’m staring down at the ground by his feet. I can’t even bear to look at him.

  “Whit, you can’t do this. Please. Not like this.”

  I return my gaze to his. “I can’t believe you have the balls to say that to me after you’ve been lying to me for so long. Move.”

  With a long sigh his shoulders slump and he steps to the side to let me pass.

  I don’t glance in his direction as my shaking hand grips the door handle and turns. Before I can open it, his hand grips my arm above my elbow.

  God, I hate that the feel of his hand on my arm still has the ability to make my skin sing. How pathetic am I?

  I look over at him and I’m met with such anguish in his hazel eyes that my breath catches. “This isn’t over.”

  A lone tear trails down my cheek and my bottom lip trembles for a second before I manage to swallow past the painful lump in my throat. “It was over before it even began. I just didn’t know it.”

  He drops his hand and I pull the door open and march out into the hall, leaving my shattered heart at his doorstep.

  31

  As soon as I exit Cole’s house I call up Lennon, not caring about the time, and fill her in on everything that’s happened.

  “That motherfucker,” she says. “I’m going to rip his balls off and feed them to him myself.”

  “Agreed.” I’m walking as fast as I can away from Cole’s place, in no particular direction. Anything to put some space between us. “We need to go over to Tahl’s right now and tell her what’s been going on.”

  Lennon takes a big sigh. “Okay, where are you? I’ll pick you up on the way over.”

  I glance around the residential street I’ve ended up on. “I’m not even sure. I’ll text you a crossroads when I end up somewhere I know.”

  “Sounds good. Give me a few to get dressed and then I’m leaving.”

  “Okay.”

  “Whit… how are you doing with all this?” The sympathy in her voice has me sucking back a sob.

  “Let’s not worry about me. Right now, I’m concerned with how Tahlia’s going to handle this.”

  She’s quiet for a moment and knowing her like I do there’s something she wants to say, but in a rare show of restraint she refrains, instead just saying, “I’ll see you soon,” and hangs up.

  Everything in me wants to break down and rage and fall apart over Cole’s betrayal, but there will be plenty of time for that after I destroy my best friend with what I know.

  Tahlia sits and stares ahead at me, appearing almost catatonic in her response to everything I just told her. Once I began it all just came spewing out and she knows everything now. About hooking up with Cole before I knew it was him, about carrying on with Cole after I knew it was him, and about Chase—her cheating bastard of a fiancé.

  We’re in Tahlia’s living room and Lennon and I keep glancing from each other back to Tahl waiting for her to say something.

  To react.

  Anything.

  After at least two minutes of silence I can’t take it any longer. “Tahl? Say something.”

  She blinks a couple of times and turns her head in my direction. “You’re sure? There’s no chance this is some kind of mistake or misunderstanding?” Her voice cracks a couple of times.

  I shake my head. “No. I heard it all myself.”

  “Because you were at Cole’s place… because you two are…”

  My shoulders sag, the guilt from keeping her in the dark weighing on me. “I didn’t plan it. You have to believe me. You know how I felt about him before all of this. He’s the last person I would have guessed I’d share a connection with.”

  “I told her not to tell you at first.” Lennon raises her hand as if she’s in fifth-grade math class and the way the corner of her lips tug down tells me that she’s second-guessing that decision like I am. “We just thought you had enough going on and one more thing to worry about wouldn’t be helpful.”

  “I didn’t think it would amount to anything,” I admit, looking down to my lap. The piercing feeling in my chest betrays my expectations.

  “Do you… love him?” Tahlia asks in a small voice.

  “I don’t want to,” I admit.

  She nods her head as if she understands that sentiment completely, and right now she probably does.

  “Do you forgive me?” I ask.

  “And me?” Lennon adds.

  She looks from me to Lennon and back. “Guys, of course I do. I understand. I really do. I have been so stressed out lately and you’re right. I don’t know how I would have reacted.”

  Though I still feel badly, a little of the guilt that’s been weighing me down eases.

  “You’re worrying me, Tahl. I expected tears and maybe you throwing a few things.”

  “I just… I’m in shock, I think.” She stands and grabs her purse off her kitchen counter and heads toward the front door.

  “Where are you going?” I ask, tailing behind her.

  “I need to see Chase.” She seems eerily calm and collected for what I’ve just told her. I’m more than a little concerned.

  “You’re still in your pyjamas,” I say.

  She looks down at herself for a second and then shrugs absentmindedly.

  “Do you want us to go with you?” Lennon asks.

  She shakes her head. “No. This is something I need to do myself.”

  “Let me drive you over there,” Lennon offers.

  “Yeah, Tahl.” I reach out and still the hand that’s reaching down for her shoe. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

  She looks from me to Lennon and back, tears now dotting the corner of her eyes. “I do though. Thank you for telling me. Not everyone would.”

  I’ve never had a thank you make me feel worse than this one.

  “Call us as soon as you leave his place,” Lennon says.

  “We’ll wait here for you.”

  She nods, her eyes vacant, and turns and leaves. Lennon and I are left alone in her place, neither one of us speaking because really, there are no words that are going to make anyone feel better right now.

  There is, however, wine. I walk back into the kitchen to check out Tahlia’s wine fridge.

  Who cares if it’s only eight in morning?

  I set my pen down on the page I’m writing on and close my journal when there’s a knock on my bedroom door.

  “Come in.” The depression in my voice rings clear, but I’m unconcerned.

  There was no hiding my absolute devastation when I returned home from Tahlia’s a few days ago. Or my drunkenness. When my grandma pressed me to know why I was intoxicated by dinnertime I’d broken down in her arms and confessed to her all that had happened.

  My grandma pokes her head through my door but doesn’t enter. “Hi, sweetheart.” The term of endearment causes a stabbing pain in my chest because that’s what Cole used to call me.

  “Hey,” I manage to croak out.

  “Cole is here. He wants to talk to you.”

  I sit up ramrod straight on my mattress. “What is he doing here?”

  I know the answer so I’m not sure why I ask. He’s grown desperate. I wouldn’t take any of the hundred calls he’s made to me or return his texts. In fact, I went so far as to block him entirely so that I wouldn’t have to see his name light up my phone screen anymore.

  “He said he needs to explain everything to you.”

  “Pfft. He can shove his explanation up his—” My grandma looks her nose down at me and I press my lips together. “Sorry. He can shove it where the sun don’t shine.”

  My grandma steps into the room and closes the door softly behind her, then takes a seat beside me on the bed.

  “You know, hearing him out might help you feel better. Let you move on.”

  “I’m already moving on.” Lie. “I hard
ly miss him at all.” Bigger lie. “I have no desire to see him at all.” I wish that was true.

  My grandma wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Are you sure? He looks really torn up.”

  This brings me an immense amount of pleasure. I’m glad to know he’s hurting, too. He deserves to.

  “Are you defending him?” I pull away from her embrace and stand from my bed.

  “Of course not. What he did was wrong. But people do some stupid things when they’re scared, Whitney. Maybe you should hear him out.” The expression on her face is pleading but she’s not going to sway me.

  I’ve already proven that I’m weak by getting involved with him in the first place. Why don’t I ever learn? My experience with my boss should have taught me what happens when I mess with someone I know I shouldn’t be involved with.

  Pain.

  Devastation.

  Heartbreak.

  I’m an idiot for signing up for all of that for a second time.

  I thought Cole was different… for a second I thought that maybe he could be… the one.

  I’m such an idiot.

  I cross my arms over my chest. “You can tell Cole to go away and not to bother coming back. I won’t be talking to him—not today, not ever.”

  She frowns and stands from the bed. “If that’s what you really want.”

  “It is.”

  She leaves without another word and closes the door behind her.

  Once I hear her making her way down the staircase I collapse onto my bed and fall apart.

  We started as enemies, became lovers, and are back to being enemies again.

  Funny, I always thought full-circle moments were supposed to be a good thing.

  32

  I settle into the chair in Mr. Jeffries’ office and instead of being insanely nervous like the first time I was here, I’m more curious than anything. I have no clue why I was called here today, but at this point if he were to offer me the job of cleaning gum off his shoes I’d take it if the pay was decent.

  My last couple of weeks have been spent at rock bottom and I’m tired of the view. I’m willing to take any minuscule improvement in my situation.

  I hear footsteps and turn to see him wander in with a smile on his face, not looking as if he’s in too much of a hurry even though I’ve been waiting in here for more than five minutes.

  “Whitney! I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.”

  “It’s no trouble.” Not like I have anywhere else to be, I think to myself.

  I rise from my chair to shake his hand before he takes a seat at his desk. I sit back down and perch myself on the end of the chair, anxious to know what this impromptu meeting is about. Did they find out about that extra mint I took from the basket in reception the last time I was here?

  “I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked you to stop by today.” I nod and bite the inside of my cheek to keep from blurting out that I just want him to get on with it. “As you know when we originally filled the position you’d interviewed for we decided to go in a different direction.”

  God, I hate that term. Just say it for what it is—you thought someone was better than me. Not like I’m not used to it.

  “That decision proved to be a mistake. You’re here today because I’d like to offer you the position you originally interviewed for. If you’re still interested?”

  My adrenaline spikes and my entire body hums. Did he just say what I think he did?

  “Are you still interested?” he asks because I’m still sitting here like I lack the brain cells to form an intelligent response.

  “Yes. Yes! Yes!” I sound like some chick in a rom-com movie accepting a proposal.

  I spring up from my seat and before I can stop myself I’m around to the other side of his desk hugging him. “Yes! I’m so excited. I’m going to do the best job. I’m going to be the best damn investigative reporter you’ve ever seen!”

  I pull away. His eyes are wide and he appears slightly panicked at my reaction.

  I cower down, back stepping away from him. “I’m so sorry. That was completely unprofessional of me.”

  He leans back in his seat and smooths his now crumpled tie down his chest. Oh, my God. I basically just dry-humped my new boss. My new gay boss. He probably didn’t even enjoy it.

  “Here, let me.” I reach forward and smooth his tie for him for a few seconds before it dawns on me that this too is totally inappropriate. I raise my hands up and round the desk to my designated side.

  “I’m just going to stop touching you now, okay?”

  He chuckles and gestures to the chair on the other side of his desk so I reclaim my seat. “I like your enthusiasm, Whitney. I do. But let’s just keep our hands to ourselves, shall we?”

  “‘Can’t keep my hands to myself,’” I sing in the same melody as Selena Gomez’s song. I pinch the bridge of my nose.

  Oh, my God, Whitney, shut up before you ruin this.

  “Of course,” I finally manage.

  “All right then. I’m going to send you down to human resources. They already have a contract drafted up for you to review and sign so you can start right away. The original person who had the job had to leave suddenly.”

  “May I ask why it didn’t work out with her? It might help me to do my own job better if I know what you don’t like.”

  My boss straightens some papers on his desk before answering. “Well, if you don’t go on a bender every night and show up to work high as a kite, we should be good.”

  I bite my bottom lip and nod. “I think I can handle that. Contrary to what you might think based on my reaction here today, I’m not actually on drugs.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  I hear someone walk by the office and Mr. Jeffries’ gaze flickers to the door for a second. “Kelsey.”

  The footsteps stop and back track. A second later the girl I met while I was interviewing pokes her head in the door.

  “Kelsey, Whitney here is going to be starting with us immediately. Think you can do me a favor and show her to human resources? They’re expecting her.”

  She looks over at me, and smiles. “Of course.”

  I rise from my chair and lean across the desk to shake my new boss’ hand. “Thank you so much for this opportunity. I promise I won’t disappoint you.”

  “I believe it. Welcome to WHFI.”

  A genuine smile spreads across my face. It feels foreign because I haven’t smiled like this since … besides with Cole, I can’t remember when.

  Kelsey waits until we’re out of earshot of Mr. Jeffries’ office before she does a little squeal and grips my arm. “I’m so excited that we’re going to be working together!”

  “So am I!” I say in a low voice. “I’ve been tuning in and you’re doing a great job.”

  She smiles and squeezes my arm. “Thank you. I think you’re really going to like it here. For the most part everyone is pretty cool.”

  “I need this in my life more than you can possibly understand. So, what happened with the other girl?”

  “Treena? She was on the hot mess express, believe me.”

  I nod. “How was everyone when you came on board?”

  She slows her steps a bit and I follow suit. “I think a few people might have had a problem with it. They weren’t outwardly rude, but they weren’t exactly welcoming either, if you know what I mean. Now that some time has passed and they see that I’m not as dumb as I look”—she does a quick gesture to her blonde locks and her large chest—“they’re much better. Most people don’t like change and I don’t think they were keen on having a young girl get the job, especially for the sportscaster position.”

  “Okay. Good to know.” Nervous energy seeps in, replacing the earlier adrenaline that was coursing through my system.

  We reach the other side of the building a couple of seconds later and Kelsey points to one of the offices. “That’s where you need to be. When you’re done come find me and maybe we can grab lunch together.”

&nbs
p; “That’d be great,” I say, meaning it.

  Maybe things are finally turning around for me.

  I nix that thought as soon as it enters my head. That kind of thinking never seems to work out well for me.

  33

  Lennon tries to fix my hair for the third time since she showed up at my house to pick me up. “Will you stop? What gives?”

  “I want you to look perfect.” She tugs my shirt down a bit so that I’m showing more cleavage.

  “Why? We’re just going out for drinks. What’s the big deal?”

  “No big deal. None,” she says as she turns the key and starts her old van, then pulls her seat belt across her chest and secures it.

  I study her for a second and she’s fidgeting, which means… she’s lying. “Lennon, what’s going on?”

  “What do you mean?” she asks in her put-on innocent voice that I know better than to believe.

  “Why do you seem like you’re hiding something?” I shift in my seat so I’m facing her.

  She shrugs, but doesn’t say anything and then takes a right at the corner.

  “Why are you going this way?” I ask. “I thought we were going to go to our usual place.”

  We now frequent the pub where Lennon picked up the bartender. Apparently, she likes the atmosphere and since he’s not a clinger she’s okay hanging out there. If the mood strikes her she takes him home.

  I may not be speaking to my bartender, but she’s still speaking to hers. Sadness tries to creep into my chest, but I push it back.

  I can’t go there. The thought of Cole brings tears to my eyes almost every time and I’m determined to have fun tonight. And that means no thinking about what I lost.

  “I’m taking a different route. There’s construction going on everywhere these days.”

  “Uh-huh.” I lean back into my seat and cross my arms over my chest. She’s up to something. Of that I’m certain. I suppose I’ll have to keep my guard up and see what it is. If she’s not trying to set me up with anyone it should be fine.

 

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