Dad laughed, but not because it was funny. His shoulders shook in disbelief, his eyes wet. “I don’t know if I should accept this.”
“You should,” I whispered. “He wanted you to have it. And you deserve it.”
He asked Lisa to help him find the perfect spot in the dining room and they fussed over the lighting, over the angle, over everything. Meanwhile I slipped away quietly, grabbed my bag on my shoulder and tucked those ridiculous pillows under my arm.
I was going back to Fiddlers. One last time. And this time, I wasn’t going with shame in my chest. I was going with my heart full.
Chapter Sixty-Three
WEST
Fiddlers had been closedall week for cleanup. The fight hadn’t done much damage beyond the door and some scattered glass, but I hadn’t set foot inside since. Saturday night, I finally gave in. It was supposed to reopen Sunday, and if Blue showed up to work, I wanted the place ready.
I sat at the same table where I’d been when I first saw her. The place looked different now. Not a dingy dive bar. Not a liability. It had become a second home. Four walls where I’d laughed, connected with people, and worked shoulder to shoulder with the woman my heart had chosen before my brain even realized it.
The jukebox hummed low in the corner while I tried to decide what to do next. I’d already made my apologies—to my parents, to Mr. Caldwell. The new legal team had everything handled. My people in Atlanta were keeping the office running without me. The only unfinished business was her.
My phone buzzed with a reminder about dinner with Mr. McConnell and I groaned. Not at losing the meeting, but at the memory of the lie it had been based on. I shoved the phone asideand looked around again, noticing a shard of glass glinting near the stools.
I grabbed a broom from the storage room and returned to the front to start sweeping. The music was up, my head down, and I was muttering under my breath when a sharp scream nearly made me drop everything.
My head snapped up.
Blue.
Those bright blue eyes locked on mine, wide with shock. My broom and dustpan clattered to the floor as I reached across the bar for her.
“I thought the place was empty,” she said, her hand pressed to her chest.
“Sorry.” My voice was rough. “Didn’t hear you come in.”
She didn’t back away when I reached for her. She let me take her hand, and I held it tight across the bar.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Tuffy told me you were reopening tomorrow. I thought tonight would be a good chance to pick up a few things.” She hesitated. “I picked up the pillows. They’re in the office.”
I nodded, swallowing down the relief of her being there at all. “I was just sitting here. Thinking.”
“It looked like you were sweeping.”
“Yeah. Some glass left over.” I bent, gathering the pieces again, embarrassed at how my hands shook. She surprised me by coming around the bar, holding the dustpan steady at my feet.
She glanced up at me from her crouch, and for a second I felt that same rush I felt when she told me she wanted me to feel human. She must have known where my thoughts went because she stood up quickly and emptied the dustpan into the trash.
“You’re not coming back tomorrow?” I asked casually.
“This place isn’t mine,” she said quietly. “I told you I didn’t want it.”
“You were upset. And rightfully so. You overheard the only person that knew the truth about our deal and had every reason to believe the bullshit coming from his mouth. But he was just spouting things he believed would make me happy.”
“I went there to ask why you left. Miles said your family knew everything from the beginning, and then I heard your lawyer bragging about what an amazing liar you’d been.”
“I let you walk away out of my office,” I admitted, “because I didn’t want you to see me put my fists through him.”
“You hit your lawyer?”
“My ex lawyer,” I corrected. “Because none of what he said was true. Not one word of it.”
