4
* * *
Trick
Dammit.I pissed her off. And I didn’t mean to, but I’d have said the same to anyone--Nolan, Tina, Jake, any of my employees or family members. There’s no way I’d let someone I care about drive in weather like this if they didn’t have to. It’s not smart. In fact, I’d have been worried about Nolan, but he walked the two blocks easily, according to the text on my phone.
Charlie and I get like this sometimes. We grumble and gripe at each other, like we know exactly what buttons to push. It makes me wonder if we’d have the same explosive chemistry behind closed doors. All this fussing and fighting and teasing feels like foreplay.
But I shove that thought from my mind. I’m her boss, not her boyfriend.
Using my phone, I grab an actual flashlight from a cabinet in the back then pull on my coat and gloves.
The chill hits my face as I open the back door. Damn, this storm is no joke. The snow is piling up out here. The ridiculous eyelashes on Charlie’s car are barely visible and a thick layer of snow has accumulated on the railing outside.
She’s leaving.
She’s actually leaving.
Apparently, douchebag Brady was the only thing tethering her to my home state and now that that shitstorm of a relationship is well and truly over, she has no reason to stay.
That’s what she said-- she has no reason to stay.
And fuck me, but I want to give her a reason.
But I’m her boss. And we’re friends. And she clearly doesn’t see me like that or she wouldn’t be hightailing it up north.
Fuck.
I mess with the generator, my freezing hands fumbling around the control panel.
Unscrewing the panel is basic stuff, so I let my mind wander. What advice would I give myself? Yea, if some poor schmuck of a patron at my bar came in and started downing whiskey at ten bucks a shot and told me his dream girl told him she had no reason to stay? Hell yes, I‘d tell him to be that reason. But it’s a lot easier to listen to other people’s problems than to face my own.
But what have I got to lose, right? I mean, really, I’ve already lost Charlie since she’s leaving and she was never mine to begin with. If it weren’t for this storm, she’d be long gone by now.
So what’s to stop me from walking back into my bar and asking her for one night? One night to give into our desires--her eyes flash with the same intensity as mine every time we joke or tease or bicker.
As if spurring me into action, the generation hums to life. Well, shit.
