“Nah, your thing is downing a fifth of cheap whiskey before breakfast,” I say it like a joke, but I'd smelled it on him the moment he walked up earlier.
“Like I said, late night,” he tries to deflect.
“And the times before?”
“Sometimes you just need a little something to get through it, ya know? I'm not some drunk sleeping on the street or nothing.”
“Maybe not but going around smelling like the morning after St. Paddy's isn't exactly a good thing.” I didn't need him to fully admit to having a problem, just accept that maybe he'd been hitting it a little harder than normal. It would be a start.
He settles back into the booth, looking smug. “Better a little whiskey stink than a needle in my arm.”
The immediate urge to punch that fucking sneer off Joey's face turns my hand into a fist in a split second. But I keep it on the table, barely managing to pull in a breath.
“Good talk.” I toss another $10 on the table and get up.
He doesn't follow me, and I don't bother to look back.
Even though thegroup session was helpful, I'm grateful to be closing down the bar tonight. The familiar space, the white noise of patrons, the methodical nature of the work keeping my hands busy; it's exactly what I need.
Just after last call, I lift my head up to find a small bag of apples on the bar.
“I will have you know I kept myself from making a 'how 'bout them apples' joke,” Toni says, hopping up onto a barstool.
“You deserve a reward for your incredible display of self-control.” I try, and fail, to restrain the smile that just seeing her brings to my face.
“Can the reward include gin? I feel like I need gin.”
“Oh no. What did they subject you to?”
“Ye of little faith. Ooo, Negroni,” she coos. I chose thatover her usual gin and tonic since the color goes with her mini dress and cardigan. “Thank you.” She takes a sip, looking pleased. “They subjected me to a picture-perfect day.”
“So why the need for gin?”
She sighs. “My fucking ex called me.”
My hackles rise. “The one you asked to have no contact with until December? That ex.”
“Yup.” She drags the word out, popping the 'p.'
“One second.” I close a few tabs and set Sean on some closing duties. “So he called?” The question tastes foul on my tongue.
“Yeah. We'd already gotten back and were hanging by the fire pit at Lucy and Oliver's duplex.” She runs a finger around the rim of her cocktail. “It was a number I didn't know, but the area code was Houston, so I picked up, like an idiot.”
“That doesn't make you an idiot. It makes him an asshole.” She shrugs. I reach across the bar and grab her chin. “You didn't do anything wrong.”
“I know.” I let her go even though all I want is to gather her in my arms. “Just haven't heard his voice in a while and it was...weird.”
“I'm sorry.” I lift her hand from the bar and press a kiss to her knuckles. “If you want to talk more after we close, I'm free.” She nods.
After a few minutes, Toni pops up beside the register, one foot sliding behind the bar. “Want help?”
I block her entry. “Employees only.”
“Oh, come off it,” she tries to push past me.
“Aww, cute.” I scoot her to the other side. “Go drink your cocktail. We'll be locking the doors in ten.” She huffs but settles back at the bar, whipping out her sketchbook.
With the last patrons out the door, I round the bar and wrap an arm around her middle. The spicy floral notes of her perfume and the feel of her in my arms settle something inme so thoroughly and suddenly that I almost sigh with relief. “What 'cha working on?”
