Chapter 22 Paige #2
“No, you don’t have to close. We’ll grab some chips and salsa, nuts, crackers, pretzels, a bunch of veggie trays—basically cheap-ass non-perishable finger food to set out.
We’ll call it a special. Nobody has to know the cooler broke.
It will be okay. I’ll call the sisters, and we’ll head to the store. We got this.”
I took a deep breath and, for just a second, I let myself picture it—the tavern lit up, cheap-ass finger food on the menu, music drifting from the jukebox, people laughing, but most of all, spending money as they watched me for signs of mental distress or a case of the extreme feels.
But most of all, I wanted to see Hunter there.
But I couldn’t picture him now without that hollow space between us.
Piper was still watching me, like she knew exactly what I was thinking. “Let me handle the food for tonight, and I’ll have Lucy see if Spencer or any of his brothers know anything about refrigeration,” she said. “You just go to work like normal. Yes?”
“Yes.” I blew out a slow breath. “Thank you.”
Her answering smile was all the confirmation she needed.
By the time I left Something Sweet, the sugar and spice scent clinging to my sweater felt like a cruel joke because I knew my bar would be a full-on olfactory assault when I got there. My phone buzzed in my pocket as I crossed the street toward my car.
Jasper: It’s completely dead. Most of the food is bad. Smells pretty gross in here.
I stopped halfway to the driver’s side, staring down at the screen. The cold knot in my stomach tightened with every word. The bar was cursed, or maybe it was me. One step forward, ten steps back.
I wanted to text Hunter. My thumb even hovered over his name. But I couldn’t bring myself to hit send. Not when things between us were already stretched thin and awkward. Not when I was the one who told him I didn’t want to be public.
If he came now, I wouldn’t know if it was because he wanted to be near me or because I’d asked for help. And I didn’t want his presence to feel like a favor. So I slid my phone back into my pocket, jaw tight, and drove toward the tavern.
By the time I pulled into the gravel lot, I could already picture the mess inside. The heavy stench of spoiled food, the empty shelves. Another hit to the budget. Another reason for Eli to add to his list of reasons to mess with me if he found out. I shoved the thought down and got out of the car.
Inside the tavern, the air was thick with the smell of spoiled meat and dairy. Warm blue cheese reeked, and I always had a lot of it. I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth, breathing through my nose as I headed into the storage area and stepped toward the walk-in.
The door hung open. The cooler was silent. Too silent.
“Jasper?” I called.
He poked his head out from the back room, face grim. “I tried the breaker, nothing. This thing is done.”
I stared at the racks—empty trays, a few containers sweating in the heat, things I’d bought with the last of my monthly budget. “Everything is ruined.”
“Not everything. I hauled the worst to the dumpster, mostly chicken wings and wilted produce. The blue cheese smell was heinous when I walked in. The stuff that was defrosting in there was still mostly frozen, so I jammed it into the deep freeze. We just have to air the place out. It will be okay.”
My throat felt tight. “Thanks.”
But even as I said it, my phone buzzed again. I half expected Hunter’s name, even though I hadn’t messaged him. Instead, it was Piper.
Piper: You okay?
Paige: Nope.
Piper: I’ll be there momentarily with reinforcements!!!
Paige: Do me a favor and don’t tell Hunter. I’ll tell you everything later. Please.
Piper: Anything you need.
I wanted to talk to Hunter without the broken cooler in the middle. I wanted him for more than his handyman/hero thing, and I didn’t want to take advantage of his kindness anymore.
I watched the message thread blink out, then slumped against the counter. The hum of the deep freeze was the only sound left in the kitchen—a brittle, anxious noise that reminded me that it might also be on its last legs. Hunter had repaired it, but it was old; who knows how long it would last?
Outside, dusk pressed against the windows; the air was heavy with that lingering, sour smell, no matter how wide I opened the door.
I thought about Piper and her promise of reinforcements, wondered who she’d bring, and worried a little about the parade of sympathy that might march into my cramped little world.
I wiped my hands on a towel and tried to push back the rising panic.
The cooler was just an appliance, I told myself.
But the stakes felt bigger: the inventory, the money wasted, the reputation I’d fought to build from nothing.
It was all me now. I was no longer behind the scenes, as I had been when I was married.
I closed my eyes, drew in a shaky breath, and forced myself to remember everything I’d already survived—messier breakages, bigger disappointments, my freaking divorce. This was just a cooler, just a day. I could handle it.
“Come on, Paige. You can do this,” I muttered, pressing the towel to my chest like it might soak up the panic knotting there.
I dragged out the old box fan from behind the mop sink, its cord knotted and its blades dusty from last summer. Setting it in the doorway, I cranked it up to high, letting the noisy gust scatter the heavy air toward the street. It wasn’t much, but it made the space feel a little less stifling.
Jasper poked his head in from the back, sleeves rolled.
“Need a hand up here?” he asked, the hint of a smile undercutting the worry in his eyes.
Without waiting for my answer, he moved to open the side windows.
Then together, we worked silently—him wiping down the bar and tables with heavily scented lemon cleaner and me going to work on the floor.
Little by little, the smell dissipated, and I felt better about tonight.