9. Avery #4
“You?” Jake lets out a low whistle. “Gray's nanny?”
“Yes. Me. And not Gray's nanny, his niece's nanny. Try not to die of shock.”
He snorts. “And Nicole? I remember her well. In fact, her and me, when we were—” He coughs loudly. “Well. That doesn’t matter. But anyway. What the hell happened?”
I shift, getting more comfortable. “Some sort of boating accident in Florida. Gray had to fly down there to verify the body. The funeral was today.”
Jake exhales heavily. “Damn.” There’s a pause, then, “How’s he holding up?”
I shake my head, even though he can’t see me. “About as well as to be expected.”
“Listen, I’ll give him a call later, maybe arrange to meet up with him.” His voice softens just a fraction. “Okay, little sis, you take care. I’ll see you soon.”
Before I can even say another word, the line goes dead.
Classic Jake.
I sigh, pulling up the Uber app. God... I need a drink. Or five. Cassy better have something strong lined up.
A few taps and swipes, and boom—ride confirmed. Five minutes out. Perfect.
I stand, smoothing my hands over my jeans before heading downstairs. The last of the caterers are still here, clustered near the door as they talk to Clara.
One of them, a woman in a navy blue polo, nods politely as I pass before following the others outside. They pile into a white van, headlights flashing as the engine rumbles to life.
As they pull away, another set of headlights sweeps across the driveway. My Uber.
I step toward the door, but Clara’s voice stops me. “Well, that went about as well as could be expected. But somehow, I don’t think it’s hit the little tyke properly yet.”
I pause, nodding. “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean... but unfortunately, it will.”
Clara sighs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Have a nice time, wherever you’re off to. I’ll keep an eye on both of them.”
I blink a thank you, then step outside, the chilly Westhaven air slamming into me.
Damn it. I didn’t put on a jacket. Too late now.
The door clicks shut behind me, sealing me into the cold. I hurry into the Uber, rubbing my arms as the driver gives me a polite nod.
We roll down the driveway and pass through the large concrete posts and out onto Drayton Close. A few minutes later, we turn onto Main Street.
The town’s alive, but barely. A few shops glow under the streetlights—boutiques, a coffee shop, and that's when I see it. Dad's old bookstore, still empty with the “Closed” sign hanging crookedly in the window.
That was his pride and joy. He had it for years until he just couldn't afford to keep it open. Nobody was buying books, at least not in the paper form anymore.
My mind jumps back to the present as a couple walks past, the woman laughing. And then, as we turn onto Dorset Street, it starts to rain.
Of course, it does.
The quiet backstreet is slick with water by the time we pull up to the Park Inn. Raindrops streak down the windshield, hitting harder now.
Great.
I thank the driver, push open the door, and make a break for it, because I refuse to walk into this bar looking like a drowned rat.
The Park Inn looms in front of me, warm light spilling through the windows. Inside, it’s not full, not empty—a typical midweek night. A few tables occupied, some low laughter, the clink of glasses. The kind of place where you don’t have to yell to be heard.
“Ave... over here!” Unless you're Cassy, that is.
I glance toward the bar. She's already downing a shot, chatting with Carlos the bartender, looking like she wants to eat the guy.
Typical.
I weave through the tables and slide onto the stool next to her. “Okay, girl. What are we drinking?”
Cassy grins, turning to him—“Carlos, four J?ger bombs, please.”
Carlos is tall, dark, and probably responsible for at least a dozen broken hearts. He smirks as he pulls out three more glasses, takes the one Cassy just finished, and starts mixing.
The honey-colored liquid sloshes into each glass as he pours J?germeister, followed by the hiss of an energy drink filling the rest. With a quick flick of his wrist, he sets four shot glasses on top, sliding them across the bar.
I pick one up and nod at him. “Thanks, Carlos.”
He winks. “You ladies planning on remembering tonight?”
Cassy ignoring him, grabs her glass and raises it. “To staying single and keeping it that way!”
I tap mine against hers. “But I thought you were with…”
“Oh, I’ll tell you all about that later.”
With that, I down it in one go. Mistake. The burn nearly sets my throat on fire. Jesus. That’s aggressive. I slam the glass down, barely recovering before Cassy shoves another one my way.
She’s already calling for another round. Of course, she is.
“So…” she leans in, elbow on the bar. “You obviously never left that Gray and his little niece.”
I grab the second shot but sip it this time, pacing myself. “His sister died.” I swirl the liquid before taking another sip. “It just didn’t seem right to leave.”
Cassy blinks, then stares at me. “Jeez… you’re joking.”
I give her a look that says, ‘Do I look like I’m joking?’