Chapter 2 #2
Declan pulls his phone out, scrolls to something, then slides the device across the counter to me. Jordan is standing next to a round man with blond hair and blue glasses. Both look as happy as can be.
“Well, aren’t they cute?”
“Right?” Declan laughs. “That’s Miles. He’s working in Salt Lake City for now, so Jordan went to be with him. He’ll be back in December.”
I can’t hide my surprise. Two more months without his lead bartender? “That long?”
Declan shrugs. “I’ll manage.” His tone suggests it’s harder being without his friend more than anything.
“Well, tell him I say hi. It’ll be weird not to see him around.”
“Will do. Be right back with those onion rings.”
One by one my employees show up, still dressed in their grubby work clothes. I can’t complain when my jeans have paint splatters on them too. It’s part of the job.
We circle around a table near the front of the room, clinking glasses and cheering the end of the lengthy remodel. Platters of onion rings, loaded fries, and nachos disappear as fast as they come. It’s good to see my team smile again. It’s like the last two months of hell never happened.
My brother, Darren, praises the team as much as I do.
We both know we wouldn’t be here without them.
For three years, it was just us—two brothers with a heart for reinventing beautiful things.
Then we hired Cynthia to help with marketing, and things exploded.
Now, we have a team of twenty-two employees working multiple jobs across the city.
It’s overwhelming, honestly, to think of how far we’ve come.
A burst of noise at the front door draws my attention away to where a group of younger twenty-somethings wait in line to have their IDs scanned. The woman in the center is wearing a sparkly crown and a silver sash that reads HAPPY 21ST BIRTHDAY!
Everyone around her nudges her playfully as they brag about her big night. Their enthusiasm makes me chuckle. Oh, to be that young again.
Vince directs them to the Newbies poster on the wall, where a row of rainbow-colored Sharpies are tied to the bottom, encouraging newcomers to sign.
Beside it, someone added a Birthday Besties poster to celebrate not only twenty-first birthdays, but anyone’s birthday.
The woman doesn’t hesitate to sign that one, and the group huddles in front of it for a photo.
As they disperse, Vince turns away, his smile disappearing faster than the winter sun.
For a brief moment, he closes his eyes and presses his lips together in a thin line.
Under the glow of the overhead lights, I can see a sheen across his forehead, and he looks pale—too pale.
His shoulders are tight, too, as if he’s holding himself up by sheer willpower.
It’s impossible not to notice now—he’d looked the same way last weekend after breaking up the fight… and the weekend before that.
More and more, Vince looks like a man fraying at the edges.
What’s going on with him?
Darren taps my shoulder, pulling me back into the conversation.
“Sorry, what?”
“I was saying, we need to have a Christmas party this year for the crew,” he says. “Get the whole team together in one place for once.”
“Oh, definitely.”
He and Del start throwing out ideas, including ugly Christmas sweater contests and silly games. I try to listen, but my attention keeps drifting back to the door.
Vince isn’t the type to share his personal life. He’d turned me away the other night when I’d tried. But to see him suffer this long worries me. Should I check on him? Or would he think I’m butting in on personal business?
My ex tells me often that I care too much. But I think it’s better to care too much than to not care enough. I’d rather keep an open heart and help others when I can than watch people suffer. We all need help eventually.
I finish my drink, laughing with the team until it’s time to go. As we climb out of our chairs, I still haven’t shaken the feeling that something’s wrong. So I let everyone push ahead of me through the door. When I reach Vince, I can feel the exhaustion rolling off him like heat from pavement.
I stop next to him and say in a quiet voice, “Need me to cover for a few?”
His head snaps toward me, fear flickering in his eyes for a harsh moment—real, raw fear that makes my chest tighten. Then it’s gone, just as fast, smoothed over with that impassive mask he wears so well.
He shakes his head once, forcing a small smile. “I’m fine.”
The words seem to fall from numb lips, like he’s said it so often it’s the only reply he knows.
I hesitate. The man is clearly lying. Every instinct tells me so. But when he turns away, refusing to let me in, I decide there’s not much I can do.
“Okay. See you then.”
He flinches as I touch his arm on my way by.
I let the door swing shut behind me, his burden sitting like a lead weight in my chest. Something is definitely wrong, and Vince is trying hard to hide it.
Maybe a better man than myself would let that go, respect his boundaries.
But something tells me this isn’t so much a boundary as a thick wall that needs to be penetrated. Vince isn’t used to people seeing him.
Too damn bad. He has my attention now.
I’ll keep an eye on him. With any luck, whatever this is will sort itself out and he’ll be himself again in a few days or weeks.
And if not, well… if not, then I’ll make sure he knows at least one person sees the man behind the struggle. Even if he doesn’t want me to.