11
* * *
Trick
It’s beena week since Charlie left. Nolan’s taking it hard--she’s one of the people he can actually open up around.
But me? I’m taking it much harder.
Maybe I didn’t realize just how important Charlie had become to me. She’s easily one of my closest friends. I miss seeing her at work every day, and not just because she’s the best waitress we’ve ever had (sorry, Tina). I also miss shooting the shit with her. Or having a shot after we close down. Or getting a random text in the middle of the day.
And sex in front of the fireplace? Yea, I definitely miss that. What in the hell took me so long to realize my true feelings for Charlie? She and Brady have been over for months, and even before that, they were always on the outs. So what stopped me from making my move? Maybe if I’d spoken up sooner, she wouldn’t have been so skittish. Hell, the very idea of staying in this state had her running out of my bar and my life.
It’s New Year’s Eve, so we should have a full house tonight. That’ll keep my mind off missing a woman who was never really mine to begin with.
The food is all prepped, the bar is fully stocked, and everybody on the payroll is here tonight. Even Danny is pulling a shift behind the bar, something he only does when I beg. He’s the grumpy version of me, but in the last week or so, it’s been hard to tell the difference between us.
“Mail’s here,” Danny announces, as he ties on his apron and steps behind the bar.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
He looks at me like I’m an idiot. “The mail is here.”
“Now?”
“Jesus, yes. That’s what I just said.”
“You been drinking? The mail got here a few hours ago. We got the electric bill and a flier for that pizza place on the highway.”
“Well, now you got a package,” he tells me and nods toward the doors. I turn to see, knowing that deliveries come in through the kitchen and I haven’t ordered anything that would come in the mail.
But it’s not Gary, the mail carrier, standing at the bar’s entrance.
It’s Charlie.
And she’s holding a box wrapped in brown paper.
“Charlie, what are you--”
“I said I’d mail your stuff. The hoodie and the sweats, remember?”
I nod numbly because if she seriously drove six hours just to drop off laundry, I’m gonna lose my shit. It’s all I can do not to jump the bar and lift her into my arms.
“Yea, so I was going to send then, but that’s dumb. Because I live here now. Well, not here, here, but at Tina’s. In the apartment over her garage. And it makes no sense to mail something in the same zip code. And I need a job, so…”
“So you’re here to return my sweats?”
“Yea.” She bites her lower lip.
“And to get your old job back?”
“Yes, but--”
“But?”
“But if you don’t want to work with your girlfriend, like, if you think it would be awkward, that’s fine.”
“My girlfriend?”
