Chapter 20 #3
“Orange juice, please.” Molly rolls her eyes but bends down and grabs a carton from one of the fridges beneath the bar.
“Hey, we all wanted to tell you what a great job you did tonight,” Reggie says, gesturing at the small group around him. Francis nods in agreement, one arm looped around his husband’s waist.
“You were awesome.” I recognise the redhead as the barista from Beans & Bakes. Gem’s here too, and the tall guy who returned my purse that day, who I’ve since learned is Jeremy, the owner of the gastropub.
“Thank you.”
“You should join us all for coffee on Monday morning, right girls?” Mei asks, looking toward the other women for approval. Sounds of agreement bubble up from the group. “Great, it’s settled. I’ll text you the details.”
“OK, thanks.” Did I… just make friends? Or at least potential friends?
Mei leans close so only I can hear her say, “You can tell me all about whatever it was I interrupted in the office earlier. Sorry about that. Again.”
“It’s fine. And there’s not really anything to tell.”
She shrugs. “If you say so.” The tone of her voice makes it clear she doesn’t believe me in the slightest. Oh well. That’s a problem for Monday.
We all take our seats. Austin’s close friends were obviously invited to stay for the after-hours celebration too.
Mei, somehow sensing I’ve hit my limit for the night, makes up a plate of food for me as well as the one she fills for herself.
I manage a grateful smile, then stare down at the delicious-smelling food, zoning out of the chatter happening around me.
Austin and Molly hand out everyone’s drinks, then join the rest of us at the table.
Of course one of the last empty seats left is opposite mine.
Never thought I’d see the day I hoped Molly would sit with me, but that’s what I do right up to the moment Austin’s denim-clad knee brushes mine beneath the table.
“Sorry.” He scoots his chair back a little.
“It’s fine.” Then, because I know I should put our near-kiss behind us since that’s clearly what he wants, I add, “Congratulations on a great night.”
His answering smile is unfairly perfect.
“Speaking of great nights, can we take a sec to talk about the other major success of the night?” Mei interjects loudly, grabbing the attention of the rest of the table. “When were you going to tell us you’re a rockstar?”
My cheeks heat and I duck my head, uncomfortable beneath the weight of everyone’s attention. “Hardly. I only performed because the band couldn’t make it.”
“But you were awesome,” Sam says with a grin. “We could hear you in the kitchen. This one nearly lost a fingertip because he was too busy bopping along.”
The guy next to them shrugs. “Worth it.”
“You really were wonderful,” Abby says, leaning forward to smile at me from the other end of the table.
“You were. Thank you for tonight, all of it.” There’s no hiding from Austin’s penetrating stare. Why does it feel like he’s talking about more than the music when earlier he was so eager to brush off anything else that happened?
“It was only a few songs,” Molly grumbles.
“Seriously?” Mei growls, leaning forward to glare at her.
“What?” She crosses her arms defensively. “You’re all acting like she saved the night, but that original song was depressing. It brought the mood way down. We’d have been better off with a playlist.”
Even knowing she’s only voicing her unsolicited opinion because of her jealousy over the attention Austin’s giving me, my heart sinks at her assessment of my song.
It’s one I wanted to include on my last album, but everyone shot me down.
They couldn’t have the princess of country seeming ungrateful.
It would damage the brand. Still, I thought tonight’s crowd enjoyed it.
Was everyone in my old life right? Is what the real me has to offer not enough?
“You wish you could sing like Cassie.” My spirits lift slightly at how Mei immediately leaps to my defence.
“Who says I can’t?”
Mei snorts. “Oh please, we all know you couldn’t even get cast as ensemble in the school musicals back in the day until your mum kicked up a fuss.”
“Alright, let’s settle down,” Austin interjects before Molly can voice a reply.
He lifts his bottle of beer. “Thank you for your hard work tonight. Bowman was a surname, then thanks to my grandparents, it became Bowman’s—a family business.
That business wouldn’t be here today without all the hard work my mother put into it over the years.
Now, thanks to all of you, we have the new Bowman’s—a place everyone can call home. ”
“To Bowman’s.” Abby lifts her wineglass in a cheers motion, her eyes suspiciously shiny.
“To Bowman’s,” we all echo.
“Alright, enough of the soppy stuff. Dig in so we can all go home to bed,” Sam instructs, eliciting laughs from around the table.
Looking around at everyone, even Molly’s sour face, I can see what Austin described offering his customers. Bowman’s is home to these people. Pine Grove is home to them. Maybe it can be my home too, at least for a little while.