8. An Acquired Taste
An Acquired Taste
"This is when we went to the Grand Canyon," Marlow gushes, scrolling through the photo gallery on her phone as we bask in a momentary lull of customers.
Her bright smile illuminates the bar as she zooms into the image of her kissing my brother.
I shift uncomfortably beside her, and she shoots me an apologetic side-eye.
"Sorry, you probably don't wanna see that, huh? "
"No, it's fine," I mumble, leaning against the back of the bar as a tinge of jealousy tugs at my heartstrings. We had the Grand Canyon on our bucket list. It was number four. "You guys sure seem to travel a lot, huh?"
"Oh, totally," Marlow says. "Once we have enough saved, we're off for a week or two. We try and fuck off at least once every six weeks."
"Wow," I hum, chewing on the inside of my cheek. "Lucky you."
"Right?" She grins, continuing to scroll through pictures of Beau living his best life. "Oh, this is when we went to Miami... "
When Marlow offered to show me some recent photos of Beau, I didn't think it would lead me into a place of dark envy. I figured I would feel closer to my brother if I got a glimpse into his life, but I feel further away from him than I have since he left.
I should be happy for him, but it's so unfair.
He's traveled all around the country. Colorado.
Nevada. Tennessee. New York. All the places we wanted to visit together .
But he went without me. Those memories were supposed to be ours .
We were supposed to see all fifty states and then decide which one we liked the most. Alabama is nice and all, but we've always wanted to live somewhere more vibrant, more bustling, and definitely far away from the parental units.
"Stop," I blurt out as Marlow lands on a photo with a familiar landscape looming in the background. I narrow my pained eyes, zooming into the USS Alabama Battleship. "Is this..." I swallow. I don't need to ask. I already know the answer, and it hurts. "Is that Mobile?"
"Yeah," Marlow replies, scrunching her nose. "Why..." She tilts her head, noticing my teary gaze. "Hey, you okay? What's?—"
"You guys were in Alabama?" My tone trembles with disappointment. He was a couple of hours from home—from me . And he didn't visit? "When...when was this?"
"Shit," Marlow says, instant realization smacking her upside the head. She winces, quietly replying, "Maybe a year ago? Around Christmas?"
"Oh," I mutter, hanging my head as I stare at my designer heels. “That’s nice..."
"Hey..." Marlow places a delicate hand on my shoulder. " I'm sure Beau had his reasons, right? Maybe..." She shrugs. "Maybe he was embarrassed or something? Maybe he thought you'd hate him."
I snap my head at Marlow. "I could never hate him. He's my brother. I love him."
"He is very lovable." She smiles at me, her chest rising as her eyes go all googly.
I can't help but smile back. Marlow's in love.
I don't blame her. If she knows the same Beau that I used to know, then she stands zero chance.
Her lips twist up in contemplation. "Do you wanna.
..do you wanna maybe give him a call?" She swallows.
"JP doesn't like it when I call Beau while he's out on a deal.
Apparently, it distracts him or whatever, but maybe. .."
"A deal?" I stare her phone, the urge to snap it from her hands growing stronger each second. "What kind of deal?"
"Really?" Marlow lifts an obvious brow. "He sure as hell isn't shaking hands with Howie Mandel if that's where you're thinking."
"Howie Mandel is a germaphobe," I mutter, flicking my nails. "He doesn't shake hands."
Marlow blinks at my random factoid. "Whatever, you know what I mean." She wiggles her phone in front of my face like a dog treat. "So? Should we call him?" She looks over at the clubhouse entrance. "JP's not here yet. Come on, let's call."
"Um..."
Jesse doesn't want Marlow to distract Beau. Maybe that's why he didn't want me to talk to him earlier. Beau's not on a little getaway with his motorcycle friends right now. No. He's conducting business. Dealings. It's definitely something illegal. Probably something dangerous.
"Maybe we should wait for him to come back," I finally say, images of Beau mixed up in a deal gone bad running through my mind.
I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I were the reason something went wrong.
He's probably already shaken up, knowing that I'm waiting for him here.
I look at Marlow. "I don't want anything bad to happen to him. "
"Beau's riding with the big dogs, Savannah. I think he'll be okay." Marlow rolls her eyes, pocketing her phone. "But fine. I guess it's only a couple more days." She gives me a sly smile. "Plus, JP never said I couldn't text him, so...fuck yeah for loopholes."
"Big dogs?" I glance over at the swinging bar door. An older gentleman with aviators and a denim button-up shirt looks me up and down, frowning before he strides over to the bar stools. "Who are the big dogs?"
"Billy, Jimbo, Ryder," Marlow replies, noticing table four indicate that they'd like the bill.
She pulls out her receipt pad, jotting down and calculating their order.
"Jo's with them too this time." She glowers, mentally calculating the tax.
"Apparently, it was 'Bring your Old Lady to Work' day.
I can't even call Beau, but Jimbo can bring his wife on a road trip? Stupid."
"Who's Jimbo?" I ask, pinching my brows together. "And Billy, and Ryder, and uh...Jo?"
"I keep forgetting you know shit all." Marlow sighs, giving table four a fake smile as they continue to draw the international symbol for "I want the damn bill" in the air.
" Fuck, these townies are impatient." She shakes her head, gathering her thoughts.
"Right, so Billy is JP's dad; he's the president of The Sons.
Jimbo is Billy's brother, and Jo"—she rolls her eyes—" Joanne is Jimbo's wife.
Oh, and Ryder's their son. About your age, I think. "
Table four yells something incoherent at Marlow, and she whips her head in their direction. "I'm fucking coming! Calm your tits, Poe!" she grumbles under her breath as she nods at the man sitting at the corner of the bar. "At least that dude's always patient. Go, I'll give you more deets later."
"Okay." I blink, memorizing the Paxton family tree as I stride toward the man in the denim shirt. "Hi there, what can I get for you?"
"I haven't seen you around here before," the man says in a velvety tone. He slowly removes his sunglasses and places them on the counter. His dark brown eyes flicker across my face with pointed curiosity. "Are you new?"
"Third day," I say, swallowing as my cheeks burn up. Crap, he’s good looking. "I'm Savannah."
"Savannah," he rasps, nodding as he looks around the bar. "Interesting."
I tilt my head. "What?"
"It's just..." He licks his lips, resting his forearms on the counter as he leans over and whispers, "You don't really fit in here."
"You don't say," I snort, patting his arm. "I'm just helping out for a few days 'til my brother comes home."
"Your brother?" he asks, raising a brow. "Let me guess..." He gives me a cunning smile. "Radley?"
My eyes spring open. "You know him? "
The man shrugs, clicking his tongue. "I know everyone, Savannah." His lips curl up into a smirk. "Except you, that is."
"Oh, there's not much to know about me," I say, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind my ear. "I'm not that fascinating of a person."
"I would disagree," the man says, turning his attention to the boisterous laughter coming from the clubhouse.
Yeti emerges through the doors, Jesse strutting behind him. I catch Jesse's stiff gaze, and he frowns at me, changing his course away from the booths and guiding Yeti toward me.
The man tips his head at my employer. “JP, Tiny, nice to see you guys sober for once." He nods at me. "I was just chatting with your new bartender here." He gives me a subtle side-eye as my name slips off his tongue like silk. " Savannah ."
"Miguel." Jesse's expression hardens as he squeezes the man's shoulder. "Back so soon? What? Got tired of the Mexican sun?"
"The sun, I don't mind," Miguel says with a light chuckle.
"It's my mother that drove me back to California a week early.
" He pats Jesse's hand, removing it from his shoulder.
"Figured a two-week visit was more than enough to tide her over for a while.
" He flashes me a grin. "Mothers are something else, aren't they? "
"Oh, you don't need to tell me twice." I giggle. "My momma makes mosquitos look like dang ladybugs."
"Is that so?" Miguel asks, chuckling. "Maybe we can swap horror stories one day."
"Oh, I've got journals full," I say, ignoring Jesse's icy presence. What is his deal? So rude. I smile at Miguel. “It might take more than a day for the great retelling of Caroline Kingsley, though."
"Lucky for me, I'm on vacation for another week," Miguel says, craning his head as he grins up at Jesse. "You might see me in here a little more often now."
"You're welcome anytime," Jesse states with an edge as he briefly flicks his hazel eyes at me, hints of anger brimming the outer green ring. "But don't distract my bartender. She's here to work, not play."
"Oh, come on, Jesse." I roll my eyes. "A little socializing won't burn your flapjacks. Plus"—I motion around the bar—"it's not that busy in here mid-day."
Jesse blinks. "Flapjacks?"
"Yeah, JP," Miguel chimes in, cocking a knowing brow. Jesse rips his gaze away from me, stiffening as he looks down at Miguel. "Let the girl live a little. She's come a long way from..." Miguel pauses, glancing up at me. "Alabama, right?"
"Mhmm," I hum. "Good guess."
"I don't guess," Miguel says, winking. "I always know."
“Oh?” I perk a brow. “Is that so?”
Miguel smirks. “Yes. Always .”