5. Mac
“Bryony,” Shelby’s mom says, throwing her arms around Shelby. She’s pretty, with a silver chin-length bob and a perfectly tailored pink dress suit. Those are the parts I was expecting. The look on her face when she pulls back isn’t. It’s like she just found a young child who’d gone missing.
Fred frowns at me, obviously thinking the same thing. “We all right, miss?” she asks Shelby, propping her hands on her ample hips. She looks at me like she’ll be happy to be rid of these two.
“Yes,” Shelby’s father says with a little wave at our chief of police. He’s tall, slim, and silver haired like his wife, with piercing blue eyes and the kind of expression that makes it clear he’s used to being listened to.
His dismissive attitude raises my hackles. Nobody disrespects Fred. She may look more like a grade-school teacher with her silver-streaked black braids and glasses perched at the end of her nose, but she’s tough as shit. And she’s our chief.
“Maybe let your daughter speak for herself,” I growl.
His daughter, for her part, looks completely bewildered at her mom’s attention. But she backs away from her mom and says, “How did you…”
“The staff said you ran off. You left your purse; your shoes were on the dock. They tried to call you?—”
Shelby sucks in a breath, patting herself, then seeming to remember she’s not in her own clothes anymore. She groans. “Shit, my phone was in my pocket.”
“When they couldn’t reach you, they called Richard and?—”
“Where’s Richard?” Shelby asks.
The boyfriend.
“He had to go,” Shelby’s mom says.
Shelby looks stunned, but she recovers quickly, pressing her shoulders back and her chin up. “I see.”
I hate the guy already for existing. Why, I couldn’t tell you. But him not being here when his girlfriend clearly needs him most? Fucking asshole.
“We’ve got it from here, officer,” Shelby’s dad says.
“It’s Chief,” Fred and I snap at the same time. I get as pissed as she does when people don’t respect her.
Shelby’s dad frowns and reaches into his breast pocket. “Oh, right.”
He pulls out his wallet, thumbing out a couple of hundred-dollar bills. “For your trouble,” he says, thrusting the money at me.
I grit my teeth. Only a minute in, and I’m done with pleasantries. “Respectfully,” I growl, “put that shit away.”
What the hell is it with rich people and money? I’ve got some myself. I’ve been saving since I was fifteen, and my best friend is an investor. But I don’t go throwing it at every problem I see.
The man turns to Fred, holding the money her way.
Fred’s nostrils flare. “You’re not serious.”
“Suit yourself.” Shelby’s dad slips his wallet back into his pocket.
Fred waves at me with an eye roll and heads back to her cruiser.
“Bryony, let’s go,” her father says.
Shelby clears her throat. “No.”
He frowns, like he doesn’t understand the word.
“Mac,” Shelby says to me, “I’d like you to meet Vita and Andrew, my parents. Mom, Dad, this is my new boss, Mac.”
I wouldn’t exactly say that characterizes our new relationship, but I still take great pleasure in the way their jaws drop in unison. “Pleasure to meet you.”
I get the sense they won’t shake my hand if I offer, so I don’t.
Her dad laughs, and I’m about to tell him exactly what’s what, but Shelby shakes her head. Then she folds her arms. “Mom, Dad, let’s go for a walk.”
She doesn’t wait for them before she starts walking.
Her mom hurries after her. “Bryony, wait!”
Her dad turns to me, opening his mouth to say something, but I beat him to it. “Better hurry if you don’t want to miss it, sir.” Then I shut the door in the man’s face.
Damn it if I’m not proud of this woman I don’t even know.
An hour later, they’re still not back. I consider going outside and looking, but that’s ridiculous. Plus, on top of feeling anxious about Shelby, I feel like shit because of another parenting fail.
Nate came by twenty minutes ago. He asked me what happened with Shelby, and when I told him I was expecting her back here any minute, he’d nodded and headed out again. I was so distracted it wasn’t until ten minutes after he left that I registered he wasn’t wearing his regular all-black outfit. Or he had been, but it was the sporty version. Running shoes and sweats.
I promised I’d take him to the gym this morning before opening. I completely blanked. I ran outside to try to flag him down, but he was long gone. He didn’t answer his phone, either. When I texted, apologizing and asking if he wanted to go tonight, he just wrote, “it’s fine.”
It’s not fine. It’s rare he wants to do anything with me, especially something physical. Asking him to lift weights as a way to bond was a total shot in the dark. I’d been shocked it worked. Now he’s probably out for good. With my guts twisted into a knot, all I want to do is go after him, but it’s almost time to open.
Which leaves me here, in the exact same spot, now agonizing over both my son and this woman I don’t even know who most likely changed her mind and left with her parents.
In fact, that’s the most likely scenario.
Is it stupid that I feel a crush of disappointment in my chest? Mostly over never seeing her again but also about getting my long-dead hopes up about actually doing something with this bar? The one bright light in a day that just keeps getting shittier.
I’m so miserable I resort to paperwork. I’m just stewing over a cup of burned coffee in my office when the cordless landline on my desk rings.
“Dinghy,” I bark.
“Hey…Mac? It’s Shelby.”
My stomach flips at the sound of her voice. I stand up. I’d convinced myself I was never going to hear from her again.
I tell myself It’s going to be goodbye. to keep my stupid hopes from lifting.
“Hello?” she says.
“I’m here,” I grunt, standing up. Adrenaline pumps through me. “You change your mind?” I croak. I walk out of my office, into the empty bar, unable to stand still.
“What? No. In fact, I’m delighted to be up here for two months…helping you.”
I freeze as relief washes over me like a wave. Even though I haven’t done one since I was ten years old, I swear to God I feel like doing a full-on fist pump.
I don’t know why. My life would be a fuckload easier if things carried on as normal.
But then I register the stilted way she said that. “Is everything okay?”
A beat passes. “I’m not sure, honestly. I feel like they might be. But I wanted to let you know my parents dropped me off in town. I got a room at the Oceanside Inn for a few days until I find something more long term. My phone’s toast, but I’ll let you know when I’ve got a number. You can reach me here if you…change your mind. I’ll be in town for the next couple of months, regardless.”
I pace the bar. “I haven’t changed my mind.” I thought about changing my mind. I thought very much about it. But in the hour since she’s been gone, I’ve felt something dangerously akin to hope.
I badly want to ask how it went with her parents, but it feels intrusive. So instead, we talk about the job. I ask if she wants to start next week.
She hesitates, and I say, “Or the week after?” I get the sense she needs some decompression time. I’m about to tell her I don’t care when she starts—I don’t even care about the promise she made me to triple my business. If I’m being honest, even though it doesn’t make any sense to the logical part of my brain, I just want to see her again.
Shelby lets out an audible sigh of relief. “Yes. Please. I think I just need to catch up on about five years of lost sleep. Is that okay?”
“I’m really not in any rush, Shelby.”
“Shelby,” she whispers like she’s trying the name on again. She lets out a small laugh. “Okay. That’s great. I know time is tight, but once I get started, things will move quickly. And we’ve got plenty of time before the festival.”
She’s talking more to herself than to me. But I happily listen, leaning back against the wall, enjoying the up and down of her voice.
While she’s hammering out details, my weekday server Lana comes in, along with my cook.
I stand up straight, turning my back to them. I lower my voice as I respond to her questions, then remember I’m on the cordless and make my way back to my office.
“Okay, I think that’s just about everything,” she says, stifling a yawn.
“Okay,” I say. “No problem.” I feel stupid.
“Thank you,” she says. “For everything.” There’s a pause where we should probably hang up. Then she says, “Hey, Mac?”
My heart does a little double beat at her saying my name. This is not fucking good. “Yeah?”
“You didn’t happen to see a piece of jewelry anywhere around the sink, did you?”
“What’s it look like?”
She describes the item; a blue glass pendant.
I mopped up the floor after she left and didn’t see anything; I tell her as much.
“Okay.” The disappointment in her voice is palpable.
“I’ll keep my eyes open.”
“Thanks. It’s not valuable or anything, just…kind of irreplaceable.”
She sounds almost like she’s going to cry.
She has to be exhausted. “You should get some rest, Shelby. It’s been a day.”
She laughs softly. “You know, Richard told me the same thing earlier. But somehow it feels better coming from you.”
I don’t know how to take that except to once again despise this man I’ve never met and simultaneously puff up my chest just a little at the idea that she likes my word over his.
When we hang up, I feel bereft.
But when I turn around, Lana’s standing in the door, an eyebrow up.
“The hell?” I say, startled.
“Who was that, boss?” Lana pulls on her apron. At thirty-eight, Lana’s my age and also a single parent, with two small girls. Like Chris, my other server, she’s a royal pain in my ass. The two of them are deeply invested in what they call Operation Find Mac a Wife. I let them have their fun since they’re so picky they’ve never actually done anything practical about their plans.
But somehow, I know they’re going to have a field day with Shelby.
Which can’t happen.
She’s still waiting for me to tell her who was on the phone.
“No one. And it’s none of your beeswax who your boss talks to.” I stride past her out of the office.
“Don’t boss me. And it sure didn’t sound like no one. I haven’t heard you sound that soft since…well, never, actually.”
I grit my teeth as I head for the kitchen, ignoring her. When I get there, I bend down to inspect the floor under the sink.
My cook looks up from where he’s pulling items out of the fridge. “Everything okay?” he asks.
“Tell me if you see a necklace,” I say.
Jed, who’s a big fuckin’ gossip, waggles his brows at Lana, who’s followed me back here.
“Yours?” Lana deadpans.
“Jesus. No, not mine.” I turn around and prop my hands on my hips. “Listen. There’s going to be someone here over the next few weeks looking at upgrading the bar.”
“Upgrading?” Lana’s suddenly serious. “You mean all the menu updates you’ve been working on?”
I scowl. “Maybe. I don’t know. Getting the place ready for Oysterfest. Just answer her questions and be nice.”
Lana and Jed exchange a look.
“She might say I’ve got redundancies on the staff,” I warn.
One of Lana’s eyebrows lifts. “She?”
I throw up my hands. “Seriously? I could fire you right now if I wanted to.”
“No you couldn’t,” Lana says. “I used to be a lawyer.”
“Well, just…stop it,” I say as I stalk past her. “And she doesn’t know shit,” I say to Jed, who’s leaning in to see what Lana might share.
It’s just a little business arrangement. Nothing more.
Nothing. More.