With a Grain of Salt (Lindell Book 3)

Chapter 21

Walker

I don”t know who to be more pissed at, Barrett for coming up and giving her news that should”ve been done in a more personal manner than at the bar, or Hux for not taking care of his insurance and leaving his wife and daughter to flounder.

I know I should be most pissed at myself because this would”ve been a lot better of a situation if I hadn”t jumped to the wrong conclusion and brought the subject up in the first place.

”Why are you always such a fucking dick?” I growl at Barrett.

I know the man is drunk, no doubt having sucked down this entire flask of whiskey since arriving here today.

”This is a wedding, asshole,” I continue, thinking the man should have a little more decorum than how he”s acting today. ”Not a place to get drunk.”

I use the tips of my fingers to slide the empty flask back in his direction.

”You”re done for the night.”

”I couldn”t miss today, and you know it,” he says, his voice elevating some with his irritation. ”I hate weddings.”

Barrett was the youngest guy I knew who got married. He and his high school sweetheart got married the summer before leaving for college, and it was over before their first semester began. He”s been more than a little anti-women since.

”Grow the fuck up, Barry,” I snarl, ignoring the short line of people behind him waiting to get a drink.

I”m tired of the frown and we”ll talk about it later looks people around here like to give. Some things need to be addressed immediately.

”Do you have any idea about the concept of attorney-client privilege? Why would you walk up here and start talking to her about such sensitive matters?”

”You”re paying the retainer,” he reminds me.

”And as I recall, you told me that doesn’t give me the privilege to her information. Grab a cup of coffee and sober up.”

He scowls at me before swiping his empty flask off the counter and walking away, grumbling under his breath.

I”m so pissed at the man, my hands are trembling, but I can”t stop doing what I”m being paid to do and go after Claire. I may not know a ton about her, but I know she wouldn”t want me in her face, trying to make a bad situation better. If anything, I”d likely only make it worse.

I give the next person in line the best smile I can manage, all things considered, and ask them what they”d like to drink.

”White wine,” Ruth says before leaning even closer to me by putting her forearms on the counter. ”That Barrett has been drinking since he got here. He thinks he”s slick, lifting that flask to his mouth behind the flap of his jacket, but after about the eighth sip, he forgot to even try and cover his face. I”m glad Maude stayed home this evening rather than her having to witness her grandson”s disgrace.”

”Here you are, Ruth,”I say, handing her the glass of wine and refusing to engage in her topic of choice.

”Hi, Hayes,” I say to the man behind her, a hint that she needs to move on. ”Whiskey and Coke?”

”Just the Coke, please,” he says as he steps up when Ruth steps to the side with a frown on her face. ”I”m driving tonight.”

I fill a glass of Coke from a can and hand it over to him. He shakes his head as if he saw the entire confrontation, but he”s got a lot more manners than some of the folks around here and he”d never bring it up.

”I”ll make sure his stupid ass gets home okay,” he mutters before walking away with his drink.

The night continues, and when Claire rejoins me, I can see her eyes are puffy and irritated as if she spent a few minutes crying. I know today had to have been hard for her. It”s the entire reason I asked Maggie if she”d work this wedding with me instead of her.

Claire, no doubt, had plans for her life when she married Hux, and it has to be hard seeing others begin their lives together when her happily ever after was so cruelly ripped away from her. Top it off with Barrett”s behavior, and I imagine this has been a shittier day than she ever could”ve imagined. It looks like I can add one more complication to this mess I”ve allowed myself to get in the middle of.

She doesn”t speak to me when she returns. She just gets back to work and does so mostly in silence, other than when she”s dealing with those wanting a drink.

She helps with the meal service and pouring wine while I stay behind the bar and fill stronger drinks for those wanting them.

I keep my eyes on her nearly the entire time, and I hate the smile that she gives everyone. It”s the same one she uses at the bar when she’s working, only now, I know for a fact that the woman is using it to hide so much pain. It makes my chest ache and creates a longing inside of me that keeps whispering that this situation is something I should fix. But even with that urgency heating me from the inside out, I have no clue how to make things better for her. Hell, I don”t even know where to begin.

When the evening begins to wind to a close, Kristina Alexander catches the flower bouquet when Adalynn throws it, and Corbin McBride, both Kristina and Claire”s boss at the vet”s office, catches the garter. The two winners don”t even look at each other and it makes me wonder if there might be something going on there. I also have to remind myself that it”s none of my business.

”I can get this,” I tell Claire when she starts to help me load the half-empty bottles back into boxes for transport.

She doesn”t speak, but she looks at me in a way I take as a warning not to do her any favors. Maybe she”s like me. When I get upset, I want to stay busy. I want to have things to do that might take my mind off what I”ll have to face at a different time.

We make several trips to my truck, loading up the bottles and everything I can take with me tonight. Chase has agreed to help me get the actual bar back into storage tomorrow afternoon, so it”s something I don”t have to worry about tonight.

”See you Wednesday,” I tell her before entering the house through the front door. I wanted to meet up with Madison and make sure we met the needs and her expectations tonight.

The woman is slowly dancing in the living room with Chase to no music, and I do my best to slip out before they see me. I don”t want to interrupt such a private moment for them, but my movement catches Chase”s eye.

”Hey, man,” he says after pressing a soft kiss to his wife”s head.

They reposition themselves, him standing at her back and softly resting his hands on her swollen stomach.

My heart skips a beat, a craving for something I never let myself imagine before, but I shove it away almost as quickly as it popped into my head.

”Just wanted to touch base.”

”Tonight was amazing,” Madison says, a wide yet sleepy smile on her face. ”There”s an envelope for you on the entry table.”

I lift my hand, tell them thank you for hiring me, and make my way out of the house.

To my surprise, Claire”s car is still parked beside my truck in the makeshift parking lot Madison and Chase created for guests in their front yard.

I stand beside her vehicle for over a minute before she notices that I”m standing there.

Instead of rolling the window down, she opens the driver”s side door, making me believe that my assumption that the thing won”t start again is true.

”Pop the hood,” I tell her, ready to try and get her on the road like I did the other night.

Then, I notice the streaks down her face. She”s been crying again, and it guts me to see it happening in real-time.

”This is for you,” I tell her, handing over the envelope of cash Madison left for me.

She takes it, opens the flap, and looks inside.

”It”s in lieu of the tips you would”ve made tonight at the bar,” I explain when she lifts her eyes back to mine. I can read the irritation in them.

She pulls in a deep breath and counts the money before splitting it and handing half to me.

I know better than to argue with the woman, even though I know she needs this couple of hundred dollars a hell of a lot more than I do.

”I don”t want pity or handouts,” she explains when I stare down at the cash in my hand in disgust. ”But I don”t have a problem taking what I”ve earned.”

It”s commendable, honestly. There are a lot of people who would pocket the money and never look back. I hate that I made so many damn quick judgments about her.

”Come home with me,” she says, her voice soft and sweet as she blinks up at me from the driver”s seat.

”Okay,” I tell her, not wanting her to drive with how upset she”s been tonight.

Then she cranks her car.

”What are you doing?”

”Driving home.”

”You”re riding with me,” I tell her, an edge to my voice I don”t recognize.

Instead of arguing as I expect her to, she turns off the car, grabs her purse from the passenger seat and steps out of her car.

”Aren”t you going to lock it?” I ask when she closes the door and steps toward my truck.

”Believe me, someone stealing this heap of junk would be a good thing and, since good things don”t happen to me, I have nothing to worry about.”

I open the passenger side door for her. ”Do we need to go get your daughter?”

”Larkin,” she clarifies. ”No, she”s staying with the Kennedys tonight.”