Griffin
Everything is off.
And it pisses me off.
I’m having difficulty sleeping, knowing that my road is no longer justmyroad. Yes, it still has my name, butsheoccupies it now. It makes me uneasy. It makes me anxious. Especially knowing that it’s someone who’s never been here before.
She’s not loud, but she just takes away my quiet.
Distracting my peace.
She moved here for what? To start a new life?
I don’t buy it.
What I mean when I say everything is off is thatshe’soff.
I’ve spent the last few nights sitting on my deck and peering like a creep through the trees in the direction of the tiny home. One night, I watched while she let her ridiculous ball of fluff outside to run around. Not only was it irritating that she let the mutt run free, but it came straight into my yard where I watched it piss on my rosebush.
What confused me the most was that she was dressed in business attire, like she was planning to go to town hall for a meeting.
I hate knowing someone is in that home now.
The bell for the door of the bar dings and I turn to face it.
My father. What a pleasure.
“Good afternoon, Griffin,” my dad announces with a smile.
“Eugene.” I nod in his direction. He takes one of the open seats at the bar and removes his cowboy hat. “What brings you in today?”
“I stopped by to have some lunch with my favorite son. Even though he can’t call me Dad, I still wanted to stop in and see him.” He smirks.
I raise a brow in his direction because I’m his only son.
Taking a moment to scan his features, he looks more like a cowboy than a mayor. He used to be one when he owned the ranch, before he ever got into town politics. This man did every job from cleaning the stalls to running the fences to repairing things that needed to be fixed. I’ve never once seen him wearing a suit and tie like a typical mayor. It doesn’t fit the town vibes anyway. He prefers his Wrangler jeans, thick, brown outdoor jacket, and cowboy boots.
“And to let you know, you might get a little busier here by the end of the year,” he adds with a raised brow, exaggerating the wrinkles around his face.
“Why’s that?” I ask, placing a menu in front of him.
“I have a ton of meetings coming up with the zoning and planning board. We’re working on getting that old ski resort on the west side of town up and running again.”
“The one that’s abandoned because Bluestone Lakes and Bonneville haven’t been able to decide who’s going to take ownership of the mountain?”
He nods. “We’re going to work together with them. An improved resort to bring a bigger crowd into Bluestone.”
Lovely.
“Wipe that annoyed look off your face.” My dad laughs. “This is great for business, son.”
I fight back a groan. Building up this town only means onething. Opening a ski resort would only turn this into a resort town. More out of town people coming here to treat us like the scum on the bottom of their feet. Rich investors would flock to my bar acting better than everyone because money lines their pockets. I can’t wipe the annoyed look off my face because it doesn’t sound fun. If I was someone who looked on the bright side of things, I’d be happy because it would bring in revenue for the bar.
It’s really a catch twenty-two for someone like me.
“Do you want something to eat?” I ask, changing the subject.
He flips the brochure-style menu from front to back. “You should consider adding more to this menu. You only have like ten options here.”
