Me
I know. Tell her I’m sorry. Work has been busy.
Eugene
Still doesn’t answer my question, son.
Me
Yeah. Soon.
“You really need a day off, man. You’re getting more miserable by the day. I take that back. The hour.”
I glare at Tucker sitting across the bar, amused by the words coming out of his mouth.
I, for one, am not.
I would love to have a day off, but this bar won’t operate on its own like the ranch does if I’m not there. If I take an afternoonoff here, it means either hiring someone else or paying someone more to cover my shift. Plus, the bar has been keeping me busy and out of the house.
And I’ve needed to fucking get out of the house, so I’m not sitting on my porch and watching my neighbor go for her morning runs.
I’ve been spending more time at Barlow Ranch just to get off my property. The issue is, when I’m taking one of my horses out on the trail, all I think about is Blair and the way she felt sitting in my truck last week when I picked her up.
I wish I had never gone to pick her up.
“Or, you could start an exercise routine,” Tucker suggests. “It’s a good way to relieve stress. There are many types of exercise you can do,” he says with a wink. “You seem tense and stressed out.”
“I agree. Is this seat taken?” Nan says, taking a seat next to Tucker.
“No, ma’am.” He smiles at her. “But even if it was, there’s five other stools to choose from. This place is deader than dead.”
“Hilarious,” I deadpan.
“I like to think so.” Tucker laughs.
“Did you both come in today to annoy me?”
Tucker raises his hand like he’s in school and has an answer to my question before nodding his head. Such a child.
“Yes and no,” Nan says.
“What’s up?” I tip my head toward her.
“I have a total of two questions for you,” she says, holding up her thumb and pointer finger to emphasize her case.
“I have time for one,” I tell her, wiping the counter in front of them.
Nan looks around, surveying the bar. “By the looks of this place, you’d have time for an entire interview. But I’m gonna keep it to two questions.”
“Get on with it.”
“One”—she holds up a pointer finger—“how would you feel about karaoke night at the bar?”
“No. Next.”
“Great. We can put a pin in that for now. I’ll circle back in forty-eight hours.”
This woman.
