Shouldn't Have You

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Shouldn't Have You Page 6

by Carrie Ann Ryan


  Now, Martin was using his title and position to pull the funding from my organization.

  I would just have to live with it.

  That meant I spent the entirety of my day trying to find new donors while organizing a gala and a few other charitable celebrations and events that could bring in money. Sometimes, it was easier to just ask for a check. Other times, I had to go through the song and dance to make things happen. This was the life I had chosen, this was my company. And I was going to make it work. I was going to stop complaining and just get it done.

  I really needed coffee.

  “I have a few more places for you to look,” Eleanor said as she walked in, leaning heavily on her cane.

  I looked up and quickly got up from my desk to help her walk into the room, then I sat her down in the chair across from mine and took the papers she held from her.

  “You know you’re not supposed to put too much weight on that knee,” I said, just slightly needling.

  “I know, but you needed these, and I want to help as much as I can. If I could go spank that Jacobs man, I would. He deserves being hit with my cane.” She winked, and I rolled my eyes.

  “You know we do not threaten with violence. There’s enough of that out in the world—as is clear, considering what we do.”

  “I know. But sometimes, I just want to break my oath and hit him with my cane just once.”

  I shook my head and took the papers back to the other side of the desk.

  “Thanks for these,” I said softly, looking over the names. Eleanor had been with me since the beginning. She was older than my grandma, yet spry. Well, at least she used to be. She had hurt her knee line dancing of all things, but she was getting back up to snuff.

  She had helped me build my organization, brick by brick, donation by donation. She came from money, just as I did, but unlike me, she had been in a marriage where her husband liked to use his fists rather than his words.

  She had gotten a divorce at a time when people did not get divorced, especially not in her circles. Her husband had tried to take all of her money, even though he had come from a wealthy family himself, but she refused to let him hurt her anymore.

  It had been a big deal back in the day, and I still thought it was. She was so strong, and she had won her case, kept her money, and then donated most of it to help others who couldn’t help themselves.

  Now, she worked with me most days, even though I told her to go home because she was hurting. Somehow, we were making this place work. It was just a little hard some days, like today, when the rug seemed to be pulled out from under our feet.

  The money from the Jacobs family had been earmarked for the shelter to help with diapers and food and other essentials.

  It just angered me to no end that something we had relied upon was now out of our hands because of what I was sure was petty vindictiveness.

  “You’re getting that frown between your eyebrows again. Stop thinking about that boy if we’re not allowed to hit him with my cane. We don’t need that. There are plenty of other generous people out there. We’ll make do. We always do.”

  I looked up at Eleanor and wiped away a stray tear that I didn’t know had fallen. I hated the fact that I was going to let down people who relied on me.

  “I hate this. I really do. I knew things were going too well recently.”

  “Of course, they were. Because there are generous, amazing people out there. And there will be more. We’ll be okay for a while. And that stack of papers I gave you has some amazing people that I know will be able to help. Then, we’ll run the next gala and the next charity drive. We’ll just keep going like we always do. You’re doing good work here, Harmony. You’ve always been an amazing girl. We’ll make do.”

  “Okay, now you’re really going to make me cry,” I said, wiping my face. “Okay. I allowed myself to wallow in pity for a little bit and let myself get angry. Now, let’s use all of that and push it through to get the job done. Because we will. We are good at what we do.”

  “Damn straight,” Eleanor said with a grin. “However, it is almost lunchtime, and you need to head out.”

  My brows rose. “What? How can it almost be lunchtime?” I looked at my phone and sighed. “Darn it, I forgot I had plans.”

  “You have plans with that nice boy, Brendon, right?” Eleanor’s eyes filled with a look of glee, and I shook my head.

  “Don’t start thinking that. He’s just a friend. And, yes, we had plans for lunch because we’re both trying to get out of our offices more. He’s working too hard. I actually offered to have lunch with him today so he wouldn’t overwork himself, and now look. I’m the one who’s stressed out and should probably cancel.”

  Eleanor shook her head and then got out of her chair, leaning on her cane again. “Eleanor, sit back down.”

  “I will sit down once you put things away and head out to lunch. You need this. You need time to just breathe, and Brendon is a very nice boy. I remember.”

  “You met him once. He’s not a boy, and it’s not like that. He’s just a friend.” I let out a sigh. “He was Moyer’s friend, Eleanor. It’s nice to just have friends. I don’t need anything more.”

  I knew I wasn’t lying exactly, but it was getting harder and harder to say that. Not about Brendon, he was just a friend, but about not being alone. Maybe I needed something more. I had gone out on a date, after all. I was taking steps.

  But knowing that I was alone was starting to be more evident in my life, turning things a little starker.

  “Whatever you say, Harmony. But go to lunch, don’t drink too much, and then come back and work. I’ll take my break when you get back because I had a late breakfast. We will get this done. But you’re so angry and stressed over the Jacobs account that I know you’re not going to work as efficiently as you can until you get something to eat and just let it all out.”

  I knew she was right, so I packed up my stuff, kissed the other woman on the cheek, and headed out. I was running about five minutes late, but I didn’t text Brendon, mostly because I was only down the street from the restaurant we were meeting at, and I didn’t want to be even later by stopping to text.

  I crossed the crosswalk and held in a shiver—as I did every time I did so.

  This wasn’t where Moyer had been killed, but every time I crossed a street, I remembered. And it hurt. Considering that I worked in downtown Denver, I used a lot of crosswalks like this. Because of that, it didn’t feel as bad as it had that first time. Or the first twenty, at least.

  Brendon was just walking into the restaurant as I did, and he smiled brightly.

  “I was running late, but I got here as quickly as I could. Sorry.” He hugged me, one of those Brendon hugs that I sank into.

  “I’m running late, too. But, apparently, about the same five minutes you are, so let’s call it a wash.”

  The light in his eyes danced. “Sounds like a plan to me.” He searched my face and then frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  Damn it. The Connolly brothers were far too perceptive sometimes. They were just like my girlfriends, they saw too much, and I couldn’t really conceal what I needed to. Not that I wanted to hide everything, but sometimes I didn’t want it to be about me. I wanted to learn everyone else’s problems so I could help.

  “We can talk about it over lunch. However, if there’s anything else we could talk about that’s a little more fun, I’d love to hear it.”

  “If you’re sure.” Brendon squeezed my shoulder and looked at my face again. I just smiled. It felt really good to have him near, to know that I could tell him anything and he’d understand. It was as if I weren’t exactly alone, even though I had felt lonely just a few moments ago. Lunch with Brendon would be exactly what I needed. I was glad that I had been pushed out of the office to have it.

  Brendon let me go, and we went to the hostess stand before taking our seats. This wasn’t a place for reservations at lunch, and I was grateful. I didn’t want to do fancy, but this place had go
od food.

  “I’m kind of sad that we aren’t going to the brewery for lunch,” I said as we sat down.

  “The brewery is about five blocks the other way, or we could have. Maybe next time?” Brendon asked as our waiter came by with glasses of water.

  “Sounds like a plan to me. And water is fine, thank you,” I added to the waiter as he left after handing us our menus.

  “So, what should we have?” I asked, looking down at the menu, smiling when I found the last thing on the left side. “Nope, I already picked it out. A chopped Waldorf salad? Amazing.”

  Brendon just shook his head, laughing. “I swear, you and that salad.”

  “I can’t help it. It’s like the most amazing thing in the world.”

  “I can’t believe that trend is coming back, though. You must be happy about that, at least.”

  “You’ve got it. What are you going to get?”

  “Well, I skipped breakfast other than coffee because I had a long morning, so I’m thinking something greasy and horrible for me. Maybe just a regular bacon cheeseburger? Oh, and onion rings.”

  I grinned. “That sounds amazing.”

  He narrowed his gaze at me. “Oh? Well, you can’t have an onion ring, I don’t share.”

  I batted my eyelashes. “I might just steal an onion ring because you made it a challenge.”

  “If you want onion rings, get your own. It’s like that meme with the people at the church when the priest or whatever says, ‘and do you promise not to steal your husband’s fries and to order your own if you want some?’ And the woman’s like, ‘wait was that part of the vows?’”

  “I remember that meme,” I said, laughing. “And no, that wasn’t part of my vows to Moyer. He let me steal the fries.”

  Brendon just shook his head, his shoulders going back. “Well, I’m not Moyer. You want onion rings, you have to get them yourself.”

  “Okay…” And so, when the waiter came by, I ordered a salad and a side of onion rings. “There,” I said as Brendon kept laughing on the other side of the table. “Now you don’t have to share at all, you greedy pig.”

  “I’m the greedy pig? You’re the one who’s a thief.”

  “It was just going to be a single onion ring,” I said, knowing this was ridiculous. I didn’t even really want onion rings, but now it would be a thing, and I was going to eat every single one. “Of course, now I’m going to be fully stuffed and not want to eat dinner later, but it’s going to be worth it just to have my own onion rings so you don’t pout.”

  “I do not pout. Connollys do not pout.”

  “I beg to differ. I’ve seen Aiden pout a few times when we go back to the kitchen and nothing is perfect enough for him or if we try to steal an onion ring from his plate. Oh my God, is it all of you Connollys? Are you all so stressed about people stealing food off your plates?”

  A look of something came over his face, and Brendon swallowed hard. I thought maybe I had said the wrong thing.

  “I’m so sorry, what did I do? Are you okay?”

  Brendon just smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “All of us do have little issues with food, but I think it comes from the whole foster system thing and living on the streets.”

  I closed my eyes and let out a little curse. “I’m so sorry. I remember that. I know we all talked about it before, I just didn’t put two and two together. Considering what I do for a living, that was inconsiderate of me. I’m sorry for making fun of you.”

  Brendon reached out and gripped my hand, giving it a squeeze that made my stomach clench just a little before he let go. “You have nothing to apologize for. I was always going to let you have an onion ring, Harmony. You’re welcome to anything I have. Always.”

  I didn’t know why he said it like that, or why it made me frown, but I was happy when the conversation moved to work, and I could tell him how stressed I was for the day, and he could do the same. We just talked about work and then our families and then our friends. It was a normal lunch. I couldn’t help thinking that maybe I had hurt him, and I was sorry for it. I would have to be better about that and not tease him like perhaps I would with someone else. Because Brendon was special, he always had been. And, somehow, I had forgotten that. Or maybe I had gotten too comfortable.

  I never wanted to hurt him, but being with him for lunch just reminded me that it was nice to get out of the office and be with someone who understood you. Who cared.

  With him, maybe I wasn’t so lonely anymore.

  Perhaps I just didn’t feel like I was always alone.

  Chapter Six

  Brendon

  I stared down at my paperwork, wondering if the stack, as well as the files on my computer, had multiplied in the time it took me to blink. I really did love my job, but sometimes it took a little bit too much out of me.

  We were having issues on the account that we were trying to get, but I knew we’d figure it out. We usually did. It was just annoying because I had to rely on others to get things done. But that’s why I was the boss, I should be used to it by now. Just because I’d rather micro-manage didn’t mean I would actually do it. At least not anymore.

  I sipped my coffee, wincing at the temperature. I either needed to get a fresh cup or go back to drinking my water because I knew having too much caffeine in my system would just make me grumpier. And I was already a little grumpy.

  I didn’t know why, things were all right, other than this particular account taking too long. But then again, when things went okay, that usually meant they were about to go to hell soon.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose and tried to focus on what was in front of me rather than anything else. I chugged back the rest of the cold coffee and then got up to get myself some water. I might as well be good and not just live on caffeine.

  I only had a couple of hours left, and most of my staff was already gone for the day since it was a long weekend, and I had given them time. Of course, I really hadn’t taken much for myself, but I would be going home a little early since I wanted to stop by the bar and make sure that everything was okay there.

  Not that they actually needed me there these days—only for the paperwork.

  I wasn’t the best bartender, something that my brothers and Beckham tended to tell me often, much to their amusement. But I enjoyed at least trying. I liked being near my family, something we hadn’t done for too long. We still had our issues, but we were getting better. At least, I hoped so.

  So I wanted to go down there, lend a hand, or maybe just sit and have a beer and hang out with my family. At that thought, I smiled and then looked down at my paperwork, knowing I just needed to work a little bit more and then I could relax. At least as much as I could when I was at work.

  The fact that I kept telling myself that while at a job I used to love told me that maybe I was either working too hard or I had other things going on that were stressing me out. I just didn’t know what they were. But I knew at least subconsciously that they would come out of the woodwork soon, and I would have to deal.

  By the time I packed up and made it to the bar, it was just before dinnertime, and the slow trickle of the late-afternoon lunch and early dinner crowds were coming in. That made me smile. Because just a few months ago, there hadn’t been a trickle at all. There’d been maybe one or two people at this point in the day. But now, the tables were filling up, and I knew we’d have a wait later tonight. Not too bad for a place that we were all afraid would close down.

  I’d been so worried that we were going to lose Jack’s legacy—our father’s legacy.

  I didn’t know why all of us called them Jack and Rose. If I really thought about it, it was probably because their names were fun to us and it tied in with the bar. There was that sign above the bathroom that would remain no matter what happened to the place. It said I’ll never let you go…unless you need to.

  That just made me smile because Jack and Rose were indeed a happily married couple, and they had been married long before Kate Winslet an
d Leonardo DiCaprio became the pinnacle Jack and Rose on the big screen.

  At least the pinnacle for everyone else. Our Jack and Rose had taken in three foster kids from the street and loved them and made them their own. They would always be the best of the best to us.

  So, yes, we did call them Jack and Rose, and sometimes Mom and Dad. It was never a slight to call them by their first names, mostly because that’s what they had wanted at first, and then it just stuck. They were Mom and Dad at important times. They had been Mom and Dad when we lost them.

  But they were Jack and Rose when we talked about the bar. And that made me feel like maybe we were doing something right. Because the bar was about the two people who had taken us in but took care of what they loved outside of that, as well. At home, they were different. They weren’t bar owners. They were parents. And the fact that I talked about them as who they were when I talked about the place that used to be theirs? I knew that was right.

  “Hey, you’re here,” Cameron said from behind the bar as he pulled two drafts. He slid them down the bar top to the two people waiting and then went to enter the order into the computer.

  I shrugged off my coat and slid it onto the hook behind the bar before going to the sink and washing my hands.

  “Anything I can help with?” I asked, rolling up my sleeves.

  “We’re not that busy yet, and you know you’re better at waiting tables than being behind this bar.”

  “He’s not wrong,” Beckham said as he came into the bar area, his arms laden with two racks of glasses.

  “I’m not that bad of a bartender. I don’t know why you think that.”

  “It’s probably a thing because you get ruffled up like a little peacock,” Cameron said, grinning before starting on another draft for another customer.

  “I am not a peacock. Why is that the animal you chose? Really? A ruffled-up peacock is the best you can do?”

 

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