Chapter 7 Duke #2
I wasn’t sure if she was looking for honesty, but I was going to give it to her anyway.
“Seems to me like you’ve had a shit day and are trying to drown out the noise in your head.
” I looked around the room. An old country ballad came from the jukebox, breaking up the silence save for the soft hum of conversations at the bar.
“You knew we’d be slow. That people would be too preoccupied to notice you slipping into the back booth.
Your back’s turned to the bar, signaling you don’t want to be bothered except for the occasional refill.
And you seemed specifically bothered by seeing me standing in my own damned establishment, which makes me believe Lukas either doesn’t know you’re here or doesn’t like that you are. ”
If my best friend knew his little sister was getting drunk in the afternoon, he would’ve tagged along so that she wasn’t alone. Unless something had happened between them. Was he the reason she was here? Had they gotten into a fight?
Olivia’s face screwed up so tightly, I almost thought she swallowed something sour—not that I really wanted to think about her swallowing anything. If I did, I might just embarrass myself in my own bar. I couldn’t seem to keep my head on straight around her.
“I didn’t realize you were a fucking therapist,” she said.
“I tend a bar. Of course, I’m a therapist.”
That was something I’d had to get used to when I started here.
I wasn’t the type of guy people normally spilled their secrets to.
Sarah always said I had “RBF,” whatever the fuck that meant.
But once I stepped behind that bar and poured their drinks, people couldn’t help but tell me all their problems. Sometimes I’d try and help them work it out. Sometimes I just listened.
Olivia snorted. “Well, I pay top dollar for a professional to tell me how fucked I am. I don’t need you piling it on for free.”
“Is this your way of saying I’m not getting a tip?”
The tiniest twitch of her lips was enough to not make me feel like a complete asshole.
What the hell did she mean she paid someone to tell her she was fucked up?
Was that truly what she thought? Granted I didn’t know her like I used to, but Olivia gave off the impression of having her shit together. I never would’ve assumed anything less.
“The other bartender was better company and quicker with the refills.”
“Well, she’s gone for the day. If you’re planning on sticking around, you’re stuck with me.”
Olivia turned around as though to verify that Sawyer was, in fact, not behind the bar. With a huff, she faced me once again. “Well, where is she? I promised her a tip when I sat down. I don’t want her to think I was lying just to keep the liquor flowing.”
I could’ve easily told her some bullshit about Sawyer going home or her shift being over. Instead, I found myself saying, “She watches Harper in the evenings while I work.”
“Really?”
I shrugged. “It isn’t an ideal arrangement, but it’s what I’ve got for now. Sometimes Lukas watches her when Sawyer can’t.”
“My Lukas?” Olivia asked, shock coloring her features. “As in the bachelor extraordinaire?”
“Being single doesn’t make someone incapable of watching kids. You trust him with Charlie, don’t you?”
“In a pinch, sure, but she’s normally with Grady or Cleo.” The way she was staring was unnerving. Like she was trying to unearth all my secrets and figure me out. It made my skin crawl.
As she opened her mouth to speak, I cut her off. “Give me your keys and I’ll get you another drink.” I held out my hand, waiting for her to hand them over.
Olivia’s gaze dipped to my waiting palm before flitting away. “No, that’s okay. I think I’ll call someone to get me.” She offered a tight-lipped smile. “Thanks, though.”
For some reason, disappointment hit me hard and square in the chest. I wasn’t sure why I wanted her to stay. It wasn’t like we were friends. Hell, we were barely acquaintances. I should be celebrating her getting out of my hair.
“Just doing my job,” I muttered, dipping my head and heading back to the bar.
As I checked on the other patrons, I found my gaze wandering to her slouched form in the corner.
She was on the phone with someone, smiling softly as she spoke.
I couldn’t help but wonder who was on the other line.
If she were calling Lukas or Cleo or Grady like she said she would, or if this were someone else.
Someone who was probably much better company than I was.
Why the fuck does it matter, Duke? Why do you care?
Before I could dig too deeply into that downward spiral, Too Drunk Johnny stood up. His barstool clattered to the ground, sending every head in the room his way. “Damn legs fell out from under me,” he cursed, swaying as he bent forward to set it upright. “Need some better chairs here.”
“Maybe if you weren’t drunk off your ass, it wouldn’t be a problem,” I said, rubbing my temples. “You’re a fucking liability.”
“That’s not a very nice thing to say.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not very nice to fall off my furniture.
I’m calling you a ride, and they’re taking you home.
” Pulling out my phone, I put in his address and ordered a cab.
“They’ll be here in ten minutes. That water better be gone by the time they get here,” I said, pointing toward the still full glass I’d given him earlier.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He waved me off. “Quit your whining or I’ll go to the bar across town.”
Gerald, one of my regulars, shook his head. “Johnny, you’ve been banned from that shithole since 1997 after you started that bar fight. ‘Member? There was a goddamn town meeting ‘bout it.”
Johnny’s lips tipped up. “Oh yeah. Forgot about that.” He faced me again. “Guess you’re stuck with me then.”
“Lucky me,” I muttered. “G, make sure he finishes that drink for me, yeah? I gotta run to the back.”
Gerald reached down and grabbed his cane, raising it above the bar and shaking it in Johnny’s direction. “I’ll beat him if he doesn’t.”
I turned my back to the men, praying like hell there wouldn’t be a goddamn dead body on the floor by the time I grabbed more napkins.
That was the last thing I needed on my plate.
Thankfully, the two were still bickering like an old married couple and Johnny’s glass was half-empty when I returned.
I listened to them trade barbs as I refilled the dispensers along the bar.
“Oh, Duke,” Gerald said, cutting into my focus. “Blondie wanted us to tell you she was gonna hitchhike home with a random stranger.”
“The fuck?” Instantly, my gaze shifted to the booth Olivia had occupied not even five minutes ago. Had she really snuck out while I wasn’t looking? Surely she got a ride home and wasn’t really going to be that reckless?
Gerald and the guys busted out in laughter at my reaction. “Oh shit, man. I’m sorry. I had to. She said she’d cover my tab if we said it.” He pulled a bill from his wallet and flashed it my way. “Keep the change, loverboy.”
I narrowed my eyes on them. “You just like stirring the fucking pot, don’t you?”
He flashed me a shit eating grin. “An old man’s gotta get his kicks where he can. Not much excitement left in these bones.”
Blowing out a breath, I grabbed the cleaning supplies and headed over to the booth.
To hell with them, and to hell with Olivia.
It wasn’t like I was disappointed she skipped out without saying goodbye.
In fact, it was better that way. No more awkward small talk necessary.
Just the transactional relationship between a bartender and his patron.
It wasn’t until I was laying my head down for sleep that night that I realized I was a fucking liar.