Chapter 2 Prove Himself
PROVE HIMSELF
“Look at you getting your flirt on.”
Chance turned to see his grandmother behind the bar next to him, her typical smirk when she caught him doing something she wanted to bust on him about.
“It’s hardly that, Grandma.”
“It’s most certainly that. Not your normal type either.”
“That’s right,” he said. He took the order that was brought over and began filling the drinks. “Someone way out of my league.”
“In your mind. I saw the way she was looking at you.”
His grandmother was almost snickering while she said that.
It didn’t matter how Jocelyn McCarthy looked at him. He knew attraction when he saw it. But that was all it’d be for her. All it’d ever been even in high school.
He’d never be good enough for the likes of her and her family.
“It’d be all about sex, Grandma.”
His grandmother laughed and rolled her eyes. Who could talk to their grandparent like that and not get in trouble for it?
Their dynamic hadn’t been the typical family norm.
No polite dinners with place settings perfectly arranged. No bedtime stories or happy photo shoots.
Sitting on Santa’s lap, hunting for Easter eggs, or blowing out candles on birthday cakes? Yep, none of those things existed.
But she gave him lessons in life. She gave him the drive to be something and someone better than what she had or gave his mother.
“One of these days it should be for more than that, Chance.”
“No one can take care of me like you. Why would I give another woman a shot at it?”
“Now you’re just yanking my chain like you’ve been doing for years. And why are you here? I thought Cooper was opening.”
“He’s sick,” he said. “He called me.”
“You just got out of work a few hours ago,” his grandmother said, her lips thin, her brows together. “So you haven’t gotten much sleep. He’s supposed to call me. I manage the bar and I would have filled in.”
His grandmother took an order before he could and filled it, proving she could handle anything that came her way.
“You’ve got inventory and scheduling to do. Then you man the hostess stand.”
Right now a waitress would run over to deal with it. His grandmother was here before him this morning, but he hadn’t bothered her in her office and just moved to the bar to get ready for the day.
“I can run it all and have been for decades.”
“There is no reason for it now,” he said.
He’d spent years building a savings and trying to get some kind of retirement plan in place for his grandmother.
Buying the bar she’d worked at most of her life and letting her call the shots and slow down hadn’t worked out the way he’d hoped.
“I’m not letting all your hard-earned money go down the drain. The first year of any restaurant is the hardest.”
“And we made it,” he said. “I wouldn’t have without you, but that doesn’t mean you have to work more.”
“I’m not and you know it,” his grandmother said. “It’s different when it’s yours. Right?”
“Yeah.”
There was a pride there he’d never felt in his life.
Something he was bringing to life. Caring for. Nurturing.
His baby in a way.
He had another career. He loved being a fireman. Had been for six years. He hoped to move up to captain next, then assistant chief, but positions didn’t open up often and there were a lot of men ahead of him.
But he took on any other responsibility he could to prove himself.
Even had the family there he didn’t have growing up.
It gave him a glimpse into everything he’d missed out on as a kid with no need to ask. Just watch, listen to their stories, and quietly swallow his envy.
A few of the guys he worked with filled in part time here. Some wanted to invest in the bar with him. He could have used the money to reduce the loan, but decided against it.
It was going to be his and his grandmother’s. Something to call their own they’d never had.
The bar was more than staying afloat and he had money in the bank like he’d never had in his life.
Didn’t mean he slept any better at night.
“I know I don’t tell you this often, Chance. But I’m proud of you. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”
“Are you going to get all sappy on me in front of customers?”
“Don’t be a dickhead,” his grandmother said, then moved away from the bar once she finished her order.
Roger, a regular who came in a few times a month for lunch and a drink had been sitting at the bar. “Got to love your grandmother being brutally honest.”
“You’ve known her for years,” he said. “Did you think she’d treat me any differently than anyone else?”
“Nope,” Roger said. “She’s always been able to handle herself and customers better than anyone I’ve known. Has their respect too.”
He was happy to hear that.
Once he grasped what her job really entailed, there were times he found himself stressing over her late nights, her safety, and all the risks that came with the work.
But the previous owners treated her well even if they worked her hard.
When they sold, he knew his grandmother would struggle to find another job, and at sixty-eight, she wasn’t ready to retire even though she could.
Maybe she didn’t think she could financially, but he was hoping he could change that for her.
“Anyone who gives my grandmother a hard time has to deal with me.”
He’d grown into his lanky six-foot-two height and packed on a ton of muscle with it.
He was ruthless and relentless in a fight and had his fair share of them in his early twenties.
Found his ass in a cell a few times to cool off, but there were no charges on his record.
He did a lot of stupid shit in his youth and was grateful it didn’t hinder his future.
The one he was trying to alter. Yet the hot Jocelyn McCarthy was quick to say he hadn’t changed.