by Karigan Hale
"You push everyone away. You're so hung up on showing your independence you don't allow any one in." He put up his hands in frustration. "You know what? I take it all back. You and Zander are perfectly well-suited for each other. You both have fortresses around your feelings. Have a good life, Lizzie. Don't come crying to me when you figure out Zander is just using you. You're on your own."
"You don't mean that," she said quietly.
"Oh, yes. I do. At least until you figure out that accepting help isn't the same as weakness. And take my song off the website. Now!" he said slamming the door on his way out.
She covered her face with her hands, dropped into the office chair, and sobbed. She'd just been trying to help. How did everything go so wrong? Even if she did take his song off their website, it had already been shared hundreds of times. What's done was done. No way now to take it back or undo it. She'd fucked up royally.
But she refused to be ashamed about her and Zander's fling. Lots of good people had casual sex with people they cared about. Shit, lots of people hooked up with people they'd only just met. She saw that firsthand being a bartender. Plus, since he was temporary, it made sense to hold back her feelings for him.
She did have feelings. Lots of them. So, she didn't always wear them on her sleeve like other cry-baby, drama queens. So, what? Brendan was always saying how positive she was and how much of a help she'd been to him. Especially since she became his partner.
Of course, he didn't know she paid for most of the repairs and inventory. But again, she was just trying to help. And wasn't helping others a good thing? Especially when she didn't ask for anything in return?
Then why did she feel so bad?
Lizzie heard voices in the hallway and attempted to pull herself together. She wiped her face with her hands, thankful once again she didn't wear make-up.
"Where did they come from?" Brendan said from the hallway.
"Don't know. The boxes were here when I got in," Jerry answered.
"Is Lizzie here yet?"
"I'm in the office," she called.
"Do you know anything about the televisions in the bar room?" Brendan asked.
"Yeah, they were delivered today," she said. Earlier than she had expected.
"But how? I didn't order them. We were waiting until we saw how much money we got last night before ordering," he said.
"Maybe a nice customer donated them?" she suggested.
He narrowed his eyes at her. She'd always been a terrible liar. "I don't think so. What's going on, Lizzie?"
"Nothing. I knew last night was going to be a hit, so I ordered them early," she said. Not exactly a lie.
"Let me see the invoice," he said.
"I have it filed with the others," she said. "We're fine, Brendan."
"Forgive me if I don't just believe you flat out. I've had bad experiences with my business partners and finances before," he said alluding to his brother.
She sighed. How was she going to get out of this? "I'll just have to locate them. Give me a minute," she said trying to buy time.
"Lizzie, you're one of the most organized people I know. Now, I'm asking you as your business partner and your friend. Please show me the invoices."
"Fine," she said. She went to the file cabinet and pulled out the invoices. "Please don't be mad at me," she whispered as she handed over the files.
He took the folder from her hesitantly. He slowly flipped through. Then faster. Looking at the credit card numbers on each one. "What is this?" he asked. "I don't understand. Did you take out another credit card? Wasn't insurance going to cover some of this?"
"I used my own credit card," she said quietly.
"Why? How?" he asked.
"Because I can," she said evasively.
"Please don't make me pull it out of you. Explain it to me like I'm a child," he said.
She sighed again. What alternate universe did she wake up in this morning where everything in her life went to shit at the same time?
"Lizzie!" he shouted. She jumped.
"Okay! Remember when I bought out your brother's share of the bar?" Brendan nodded. "I told you I had some money saved up. That wasn't entirely true."
"Are you a spending addict? How much do you owe in credit card debt?"
"No, Brendan. Quite the opposite. I have zero debt. And a trust fund. My parents are rich," she said.
"A trust fund?" he echoed.
"Yes. I'm financially independent. I can afford to buy the stuff, so I did. To help us out," she said.
Brendan shook his head in disbelief. "Without telling me?"
"I planned on telling you eventually..." she trailed off when she saw his expression. "You can't be mad at me. I was trying to help."
"Lizzie. We're supposed to be partners!" he shouted. "Do you know how much effort it took to allow you to have access to the finances? After Dylan stole all the money from me, I wasn't going to allow anyone to touch them ever. But I trusted you, Lizzie. I trusted you to be honest with me."
"I know," she said. God, she felt awful. She'd never even considered how much he sacrificed by allowed someone into the financial aspect of the business again. "I'm so sorry."
He threw the folder on the desk. "Tally up how much you spent. I'll find a way to pay you back."
"No, Brendan. I knew you were going to say that which is why I didn't tell beforehand. I can afford it," she said. "Trust me when I say all this barely made a dent."
"Partners, Lizzie. If you can't grasp that concept, maybe this isn't the place for you," he said regretfully.
"Are you," she gulped and whispered, "firing me?"
"Of course not. I can't fire you since we're—say it with me—partners. But I need to be able to trust you," he said.
"You can! You can trust me," she said desperately.
"I'd like to believe you," he said and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, we open soon. We'll have to talk about this later, okay? Let's just get through tonight." He went out, and she heard him call to Jerry, "Jer. Come help me hang these TVs real quick."
She sunk back down into the chair. How did everything go so wrong? Now everyone was mad at her despite her good intentions. Today had gone to shit faster than a virgin's first time. Nick, Zander, and her parents scolded her when she didn't spend her money. Brendan and Xavier scolded her when she did. Could she move to Alaska where no one could find her and start over?
She once again tried to get herself together, so she could go help Jerry and Brendan with the televisions. At least this day couldn't get any worse.
Right?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
She spoke too soon. She had no idea the shit tsunami heading her way. If she did, she would have gotten on her motorcycle and not looked back. As it were, she didn't know, and so walked right into with eyes wide open.
She helped Brendan install the televisions. In silence. She'd never wished for mindless small talk more in her life. Where was Zander? He could help ease the tension. He said he'd be back before McConnell's opened. She texted him when they finished the final television.
LIZZIE: How'd your meeting go?
ZANDER: Meeting was fine
LIZZIE: On your way here?
ZANDER: Maybe, something came up
LIZZIE: No pressure we can always hang out tomorrow
ZANDER: Ill be there just later than planned
LIZZIE: K
She frowned. Something was off. Usually he had some sort of sexual innuendo or reference to a body part in his texts. At the very least an eggplant emoji usually made an appearance. He must be in serious work mode. She smiled as she thought of how his muscular body filled out a suit.
LIZZIE: Feel free to keep your suit on
ZANDER: Only if you wear the green dress
LIZZIE: Nvmd
Okay, that sounded a bit more like him. Still, she had a nagging feeling something wasn't right. Probably just left-over funk from her not one but two fights earlier. Fights with two of her closest friends.
> She pushed those thoughts from her mind, so she didn't start sobbing again. When had she become such a crier? Was she getting her period?
Ew. That was something Nick would say. He would also say "I told you so" and agree with Brendan and Xavier. She needed someone on her side. Her eyes kept flicking to the door.
He didn't show up until after they'd been open for over an hour. He met her gaze the instant he came through the door but didn't smile like he normally did. He also practically ran towards her and herded her to the side of the room.
"I have to tell you something," he said seriously.
"Okay," she said instantly worried.
"Tiffany—" he started but a high-pitched whine almost resembling his name interrupted him.
"Zanny?" the voice called in a thick Southern accent. It sounded like Danny, but with a Z. Gross. "Where are you, baby?"
Lizzie peeked around Zander's broad frame to see a woman in a tight tube dress barely containing her voluptuous breasts. Lizzie recognized the busty bleach blonde as Tiffany from Zee's company fundraiser photos. And she was here. In her bar.
Zander rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. Lizzie furrowed her brow at him. She opened her mouth to demand an explanation but never got the chance. A loud crash sounded from the kitchen, and Wonder-Tits spotted them and trotted her tight ass over to pull Zander away.
"There you are," Tiffany said. She glanced at Lizzie—wearing a pair of worn jeans, a McConnell's t-shirt with a stain she picked up at some point that evening, and an apron—and immediately dismissed her. "Let's find your brother, so we can get out of this dump."
Lizzie felt her face flush. "I'm going to check on Jerry." She pushed passed them.
"Lizzie, wait!" Zander called. She ignored him. She couldn't handle this. Not today. Not after earlier. She'd needed Zander as a safe space. Someone to be on her side. But he'd obviously made his choice. He'd lied about being single. She stopped as another thought struck her: did he invite Tiffany here? Was that why he pushed so hard to get in her pants as soon as he got here? He knew he'd have a limited time. She didn't know whether to cry or be furious.
She leaned heavily toward furious. She'd done enough crying for one goddamn day.
When she opened the kitchen door, Jerry was kneeling in the middle of the floor trying to scoop mashed potatoes back into an enormous bowl. He glanced up when she came through the door.
"I got it. No problem. Under control," he said sloshing potatoes over his shoes.
"Oh, no doubt," she said unable to suppress a smile. "How can I help you get it even more under control?"
"Flip those burgers and shake the fries," he said. "And if you could clone me, I'd appreciate it."
"Sorry. I'm not through my PhD in particle physics or whatever yet. Plus, I don't think the world could handle two Jerry's." She stepped around his mess to help with the cooking food.
"I swear, I'm going to die in a vat of potatoes," he grumbled. "When I retire, if I never see potatoes again, it'll be too soon."
"What did you expect working in an Irish bar?" Lizzie said as she plated the burgers according to the order screen. "Leave the rest. I'll get a mop and bucket. You whip up another batch."
The back door blew open on its hinges startling them both.
"Sorry," Xavier said coming in and pushing the door closed behind him. "I think we're in for another storm. The wind is really picking..." he trailed off when he saw Lizzie in the room. His eyes darkened, but then he noticed Jerry still kneeling on the floor. "What the hell happened in here?"
"Mashed potato accident," Jerry said. "You're just in time. Start on another batch."
"I'll just get the mop," Lizzie said backing out of the kitchen. And bumping into Brendan.
"Where have you been?" he asked shortly. "I need you on the floor not hiding back here."
"Jerry needed help. Xavier just got here. I need to get a mop," she said looking at her shoes. She just couldn't catch a break today. Everything she touched turned to shit.
Brendan stuck his head in the kitchen and sighed. "I'll get the mop. You get back out on the floor. It's busy now, but with the storm kicking up, who knows what will happen in an hour. Try to keep some of them here."
"I know how it works, Brendan. I'm not a complete idiot," she mumbled as she pushed through the swinging door. Her traitorous eyes immediately found Zander. He sat at the end of the bar with Tiffany draped over him. Her bar stool was so close to his she was practically sitting in his lap. Lizzie swallowed her growing anxiety, walled up her heart, and amped up her bravado. Then strolled behind the bar to help anyone else but them.
"What does it take to get a drink around here?" she heard Tiffany drawl. "Let's go back to the hotel bar instead. It smells less greasy there."
Zander said something in response, but Lizzie couldn't hear. She pretended to ignore them while simultaneously straining her ears to listen. Until Zander called her name. Dammit. She had to engage.
"Lizzie?" he called and gestured for her to come over.
She took her time. "Can I get you anything?" she said when she finally reached them. Then felt her ears flush. She'd used that exact phrase the other night. After they'd made love. In her bed. She untucked her curls to cover her ears.
"About time," Tiffany said. "I'll take a club soda with a sliced lime, please."
"The usual?" Lizzie asked Zander. He nodded.
"The usual?" Tiffany echoed. "You've only been in town for like a minute, and you already have a usual at this place?"
"I told you, my brother works here," he said. Lizzie waited for him to say more. Anything about her. But he didn't. The color drained from her face. She was his dirty little secret with Tiffany, too, confirming her feelings from earlier.
"Lizzie, you okay?" Zander asked. He reached across the counter and touched her hand, but she yanked it away ignoring the skip of her heart hungry for his concern.
"I'm fine," she whispered.
"I need to talk to you," he said softly. Lizzie rolled her eyes. "Please," he added.
Tiffany leered as she took in Zander's concerned expression, his hand reaching for Lizzie, and Lizzie's hurt face. Her eyes narrowed. She leaned into him and put her mouth next to his ear. "Is she a bit slow?" Tiffany asked in a stage whisper, not taking her eyes off of Lizzie.
Zander furrowed his brow at her incredulously. "What? No."
"Club soda. With a lime. It's the green one, okay sweetie?" Tiffany said to Lizzie slowly and condescendingly.
Lizzie stared at her for a moment in disbelief. She flicked her eyes at Zander waiting for him to say something in her defense. When he just gave her an apologetic half-smile, she shook her head and went to fill their order.
In one swift obviously practiced move, Tiffany straddled him and pressed his face into her expansive cleavage.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Lizzie turned back around and saw Zander's face being swallowed up by Tiffany's ginormous boobs as she sat on his lap.
"Oh Zander!" Tiffany giggled running her perfectly manicured nails through his hair. "You're so naughty!" She watched Lizzie with a smug smile on her face.
Lizzie dropped the beer she held. Zander disengaged his face long enough to catch her eye. She couldn't fix her face. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't just stand there and watch.
So, she did the only thing she could do—turned and fled. Flight before fight in this scenario.
"Lizzie, what the hell?" Brendan said coming around the bar to look at the broken glass on the floor.
"I have to go. I have to—I can't—" Lizzie whispered breathlessly as she pushed him out of the way. She'd reached her breaking point. First Xavier. Then Brendan. Now this. If they had happened one day at a time, she'd have been able to handle them. She was a problem solver. A people pleaser. She'd have figured out a way to make things right.
Instead, she stuck under an avalanche of yuck. She just needed to breath and think. Focus on one thing at a time.
First of all, who car
ed if big booty Judy slobbered all over her lover? Not her. She didn't care. Zander was free to drool over anyone he pleased. It wasn't like they were an official couple. She was fine with it. If she repeated it enough times, maybe she'd even start to believe it.
So what if she felt like she'd been hit with a Mac truck? She could be coming down with a cold.
She gulped in the cool air when she finally—after what seemed like an eternity—made it out the back door of the bar. It was fine. Everything was fine. She was fine.
Her chest was on fire because of allergies. Had to be it because she and Zander were what? Nothing really. Just having sex. Casual. Two consenting adults.
"Get a grip, Lizzie," she told herself. She closed her eyes and imagined punching Tiffany in one of her overinflated tits. Okay, that image made her feel a little better.
The wind from the oncoming storm whipped her curls around her face as she paced back and forth across the narrow alley. How could she have been so stupid? She knew this was going to happen. Okay, maybe not this exact scenario. But Zander had been up front with her from the beginning. This thing between them was temporary. He was looking for a partner to share his life with. Not someone like her.
But he'd told her Tiffany wasn't it, either. And she'd believed him. Maybe his whole "mid-life crisis at thirty" speech was just bull shit to get her into bed. It was easy for him to say Tiffany meant nothing when she was four states away. But once she appeared in front of him, and he had a chance to compare them...
Lizzie observed her flat chest, chipped nails, and clunky boots. There was no comparison.
Not only was she riding the frumpy bus, but she'd also never told Zander she felt any sort of way about him. As far as he knew, she was A-Okay with their temporary, secret sexcapades. Shit. Xavier was right. She did hold her feelings close.
No wonder everyone in her life hated her right now. And every single one was all her fault. She pushed everyone away when they tried to help. She posted the video of Xavier without asking. She lied to Brendan about the invoices. She let herself feel something more for Zander. And it had all blown up in her face.