Chapter 21
A few days later.
I stare at the eviction notice in my hand, the words blurring together as hot tears prick my eyes. This can't be happening. Not now. I was planning to surprise Ryan at his next game. It looks like I’ll need my shift back at the bar.
It's only been a month since my landlord raised the rent, only to backtrack it a week later. I thought I was safe, that I'd bought myself some time to figure out a better solution. But apparently, this has all been temporary.
Because now I'm holding a piece of paper that says I have thirty days to vacate the premises. Thirty days to pack up my entire life and find somewhere else to live while maintaining my work schedule.
I want to scream. I want to march down to the leasing office and give that weaselly little property manager a piece of my mind. But I can't, because I have to be at work in twenty minutes and I can't afford to lose even a single shift.
Bartending at Taylor's Sports Bar isn't exactly my dream job now that I’ve been at it for a few weeks, but it helps pay the bills. But I might be shit out of luck with that now.
I took a risk by starting Baddie Addie’s Coffee Shop, and I pray that I don’t ever have to close her. She’s my pride and joy.
God, what a mess.
My coffee shop pays for itself, but I don’t get much as the owner. This shit is backward, I swear. The headaches and stress that come with being a business owner are hard.
I take a deep, shuddering breath and toss the notice onto my couch. I can't deal with this right now. I have to focus on getting through the night without falling apart.
I throw on my Taylor’s Sports Bar uniform, a snug black tank top, and fitted jeans, and pull my hair into a messy bun. A swipe of mascara and some tinted lip balm and I'm as ready as I'll ever be. I stare in the mirror at myself and mutter, “No crying.”
When I push through the front door of the bar, the familiar smells of stale beer and greasy pub food wash over me. It's not exactly a five-star establishment, but it's clean and the regulars are mostly harmless.
“There she is!” Arianna, my fellow bartender, calls out from behind the counter. “Cutting it a little close, aren't we, Addie?”
I flash her a tight smile as I skirt around the bar and glance at the clock, not realizing I’m late by two minutes. “Sorry, I got held up. It won't happen again.”
She waves a dismissive hand, her bracelets jingling. “No worries, doll. We've all been there. Now get that perky little butt in gear, we've got thirsty customers to serve!”
I take my place behind the bar, pasting on my customer service smile. “What can I get for you?” I ask the middle-aged regular named Kenny.
“Just a Bud Light, sweetheart,” he says, his eyes lingering on my chest a beat too long. “And maybe your number, if you're feeling generous.”
I snort as I grab a glass and fill it from the tap. “In your dreams, Ken. We both know I'm way out of your league.”
“And here I thought we had something special, Baddie.”
Ugh, that nickname is getting to me now that I have the coffee shop. It was cute when only Ryan would call me that, but now it’s a thing and I don’t want it to be a thing.
“The only thing we have is a bartender-patron relationship,” I say, sliding his beer across the counter. “And even that's on thin ice, buddy.”
He grins good-naturedly as he takes a swig. “Fair enough. Can't blame a guy for trying though, right?”
I just shake my head, fighting a genuine smile. Kenny's harmless, for all his flirting. He's been coming in here for a long time according to Mr. Taylor. He’s always with a cheesy pick-up line and a wink. It’s not only towards me, so I don’t think much of it.
I let myself get lost in the rhythm of pouring drinks and cracking jokes, a perfect distraction from the stress of being evicted.
I'm in the middle of mixing a round of cocktails for the woman waiting for a friend. I glance up to see Emma meeting that customer. Emma is the woman who gave me her business card to pass on to Ryan. This should be interesting.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” I say to her friend as I drop off the drinks. They look like they stepped out of a fashion mag, and I'm suddenly painfully aware of my basic work uniform and messy bun.
“Hey!” Emma shouts with a giant smile of perfect teeth. “Just the person I was hoping to see.”
I glare at her, wondering why she would want to see me.
“Can I get you something else?” I ask Emma.
“Sure, a vodka soda.”
I turn to leave and she says, “So, your friend never called me.”
I shrug. “I passed the card to him.”
“Listen,” she says politely. “There’s going to be a party tomorrow night. You should come.”
“Me?” I question.
She nods with a smile. “And bring your friend.”
I press my lips together. “Let me get you that vodka soda.”
Wow. She is determined. It seems like she wants Ryan Wilder badly, and I’m at an awkward standstill, serving my customer and protecting what Ryan and I currently have. He is mine. Kind of. Well, almost…but he is mine to some degree.
As I make her vodka soda, I glance over the crowd to see if anyone needs tending to. Then I see Ryan Wilder walking toward the bar with Colton. He waves at me right as I’m done making Emma’s drink. When he sits right next to her, a deep surge of emotion stings my chest.
I've lost too much already — my mom, my apartment, my sense of stability. I'm not losing him too. When I glance at Emma, she doesn’t notice him yet. She is notably beautiful, and Ryan loves beautiful.
I straighten my posture and remember that nothing in life is permanent.
I can’t project my stress of being evicted on anyone.
Emma can mean well, so I give her the benefit of the doubt.
Even though, in the back of my mind, I know damn well that she cares about status and image.
Ryan is quite the image. He’s fresh off the ice and looks crispy.
He’s showered but still hot as ever with his slightly red face from the cold ice rink.
“Hi,” he says as I drop the drink off to Emma.
“Thank you,” she says to me. “I need to get your number.”
“Baddie Addie,” Colton shouts. “What do you have going on, girl?”
“Oh my god,” Emma says once she realizes who’s next to her. She glances at me as Ryan looks over his shoulder. “Hi.” Her face lights up.
Someone down the bar is hollering at me, but I need to stay to watch this.
“My name’s Emma,” she says with a blush.
“Hi, Emma,” Ryan says, treating her like he does with any hockey fan. He clearly doesn’t recognize her name from the business card.
Colton says to me, “Two beers.”
Emma says, “You never called.”
Ryan chuckles. “What?”
“Yeah, I had Addison give you my business card.”
He nods. “Oh, right. Yes, I did not call. Are you like an agent or something because I––”
“No, no,” she laughs. “No, it’s not business. I just think you’re cute.”
Ryan is smooth like he gets this compliment all the time. Nothing about his reaction seems flattered or shocked, he is cool, completely normal. Colton is staring at the TV, pretending not to hear the conversation, which is the ultimate giveaway that he knows about me and Ryan.
“I’ll get the two beers,” I say awkwardly as all four of them look over at me. Now Ryan’s face changes, but I have to get back to work.
I do my absolute hardest to move around the bar without glancing at Ryan and Emma. Whenever I’m behind them, I see that she is talking his ear off. Leaning a bit too close, ignoring her friend, and Colton is quiet too. He normally isn’t quiet.
“Baddie,” Ryan says as I walk by. “I’m going to head out.”
I nod. “Okay.”
“Do you wanna come hang out when you get off?”
The term hangout sounds casual, but I’m happy he put it that way. I need to talk to him about the eviction.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah?” he asks, standing up with a hint of excitement in his eyes. He and Colton leave cash on the bar.
Emma stands to hug him bye and then asks him for a picture. Ryan smiles big for the photo, then glances at me.
She says, “Come to the party tomorrow, Ryan. It’ll be fun.”
He shrugs. “Sorry, I can’t, but it was nice meeting you, Emma.”
As he walks away, Emma and her friend are reiterating their entire interaction.
Emma is blushing, and I start to blush with her because I understand.
I’ve been on that side of the fence before, and I know the exact feeling bubbling inside of her.
Ryan is naturally warmhearted and a sweet man.
He has no disrespect or an ounce of a confident prick like most athletes.
Though, I’m surprised he wasn’t screaming yes to the party invitation tomorrow. He must have work.
“He is the definition of a cinnamon roll,” her friend says as I am walking back to the bar. It makes me smile because she’s right.
“Hey, girls. Do you need anything else?” I ask, tapping the bar as I come around the corner.
“Yes, I need your number. If he can’t come tomorrow, we can do something another night.”
I tell her my phone number as the feeling of annoyance leaves my attitude. Now that I’m looking at Emma and can see past her beauty, I think she’s a lot younger than I thought. A girl will shoot her shot––and I give her that.
“Does he come here often?” she asks, almost whispering.
I chuckle. “Actually, no. But you might catch him at my coffee shop in the mornings.”
She nods. “We’re closing the tab. I will text you the next time something’s happening.”
“Thanks, Emma,” I say, realizing that I just told her to come buy coffee at my shop in trade of possibly seeing Ryan. That’s one way to sell my soul.