Chapter Six
Sunday, October 30
Dallas, TX
Ian
O f all the days of the week, Sunday is always one of our busiest. The moment the clock strikes noon, customers come walking in for a good drink and a good time.
I think that’s what keeps me loving my job. There’s always a new day and new faces to meet. I never know what kind of person will walk through those doors. And I may only see them once or, like Jonathan Knight and Jake Hall, they become some of my best customers, as well as my—even more rarely—friends.
I just finish serving a group of guys their beers on tap when Jonathan and Jake walk in.
“Hey, Ian,” Jake greets.
“Hey, guys. Want your usual?” I ask.
“You’ve read our minds.” Jonathan puts down his credit card.
My family has always beamed with pride at the bar’s legacy. But when life as I knew it was crashing down around me, I ran the risk of losing the business.
I’d spread myself too thin taking care of Mom and arranging a funeral, all the while trying to stay financially sound.
That time of my life was very lonely and chaotic. The days always ended with me feeling emotionally and physically drained.
Things got better though, when I met Jake and Jonathan. They stumbled into the bar one rainy night, we got to talking, and we all quickly became friends. They eventually found out about my family’s situation, so they helped bring in business until I could get back on my feet. I don’t know where I or the Brick would be without their support.
I set down a glass of scotch and a glass of vodka when I notice both men are dressed in their usual work attire. “What brings you into work on the weekend?” I ask.
“Last minute touching up before we pitch this upcoming product,” Jake groans before downing the glass of vodka and turning to Jonathan’s direction. “How soon can I get this fucking monkey suit off me?”
Jonathan sits beside him, nursing the scotch. “Believe me, I’d rather be at home with my girl unpacking boxes than this shit.”
They both look worn down, their ties loose around their necks.
“Sorry about that, y’all,” I sympathize.
“Better to have business than no business at all.” Jonathan downs the rest of his drink.
I nod in agreement. “I’ll be right back and get y’all another round.”
I pocket another customer’s bill and tip when the landline next to the cash register rings. I pick up the phone.
“Thanks for calling the Brick. This is Ian. How can I help you?”
“Is this Ian Brown?” I hear a woman’s soft voice coming from the other end.
“Yes, ma’am, that’s me.” Do I know this woman or something?
“Oh, thank goodness. I was worried I called the wrong bar.”
“How can I help you, ma’am?” Despite the odd conversation, I maintain my professionalism.
“I’m sorry, let me explain myself. I’m Kami’s mom.”
I stand there frozen in utter astonishment. Of all the people that could have called…
“Oh, hi, Mrs. Hernandez. How are you?” What the fuck do I say? It’s not every day the mother of the woman I’m pursuing calls me at work.
I notice Jake and Jonathan looking my way, their facial expressions similar to mine: confused, surprised, and curious.
How does she know me, or that I know her daughter? How is she calling me? More importantly, why?
“Better now that I’m talking to my daughter’s mystery man. I swear, that girl barely tells me anything.”
Her what?
Did I hear what I think I just heard? Her mystery man? No. That can’t be right. Her mystery man doesn’t exist.
As I work to gather my words and tell this woman the truth I stop myself.
What if I didn’t have to?
Since Kami had walked into my bar, I’ve been trying to get her to hear me out to no avail. Maybe…this is the next best thing.
Kami would kill me if I played along and claimed myself as her boyfriend. Yet I’m faced with too many reasons not to not do it.
Offering myself as a fake boyfriend to the curly-haired bombshell not only keeps her lie to her family intact, but it also gives her the chance to get to know the real me. Sure, it’d be against her will, but it’s for both our benefit.
This is almost too perfect.
“So that’s what she’s calling me?” I laugh as I turn on the charm. “I have to say, I’m flattered. I apologize we haven’t had a chance to talk sooner. Kami wanted to be sure our relationship was serious, and I imagine you know how stubborn she can be.”
“Oh, yes. Stubborn as a mule just like her father. Exactly where she got her cynicism, I have no idea.”
I had a suspicion the feisty Latina was a bit cynical when it came to love and relationships, but to hear her own mother say this about her daughter gives me some perspective and clarity.
I realize it’s not just toward me that she’s resistant to love. She’s resistant to love in general.
Her father is also something to put onto my ever-growing list of questions. Are Kami’s mom and dad separated? Divorced? Is her dad no longer living?
“Your daughter is very independent, for sure. It’s what I love about her.”
“To be honest, I’ve been calling you ‘mystery man.’ Like I said, she hardly tells me anything.”
I wonder why that is. Could the anger and disappointment on Kami’s face when talking to her mom on the phone have anything to do with it? If that’s the case, she must hold some kind of resentment toward her mom. Could it be over her sister? No. It feels much bigger than that. Whatever the reason, Kami shows clear signs she’s not talking about it any time soon.
The woman on the phone continues, “I usually stalk her on social media, and I know her friends through past pictures, but I saw a more recent photo she was tagged in with them, and you were the only person I didn’t recognize. I saw you were tagged too and knew we should talk. You two look so cute together,” she gushes.
Photo? What photo?
That’s right. Last night at the party, Kiera had a group of us come together to take a selfie. Posing for the photo, I stood close to Kami as I wrapped my arm around her waist. Her body was stiff, with her arms at her sides, as she pasted on a smile. She immediately walked off when it was over a few seconds later.
I spent the remainder of that night, though enjoying myself, watching her.
“Thank you, ma’am. Your daughter and I love each other very much.”
She just hasn’t admitted it yet, but it’s fine.
I glance over at my two friends again. There’s a shocked look on both of their faces.
“I’m so glad to hear that. Sorry about this, but I stalked you a bit on Instagram and saw you own a bar. Is that true?”
“Yes, ma’am. I own a sports bar run by my family.”
“A family-owned business. I love it,” she gushes some more. “I have so many questions to ask you, but I’d rather ask you them in person.”
“That makes two of us.” Given how Kami’s phone call with her mother went back at the party, I have an inclination about what she’s going to ask.
“In that case, would you and Kami come to Thanksgiving this year? I swear, it’s like hitting a brick wall with that girl trying to get her over to Abilene with you.”
“We’d love to come,” I say with a wide grin on my face.
“That’s amazing. Yay! I’m so excited to have both my babies home. My younger one just eloped this weekend so she’ll be bringing her husband. I hope you two are thinking about tying the knot as well. I’d love to see both my daughters married and starting families of their own.”
I know I should stop here. I’d be crossing a line if I said anything about marriage. But if I’m going to sell the boyfriend, and potentially fiancé, card, I need to do it right from the get-go. Otherwise, Kami’s lie will come crashing down and so will my chances with her.
“Actually, we’ve been thinking a lot about marriage lately.”
“Any chance you’ve thought about buying a ring?”
I pause. I may be laying it on thick but…
“I’ll be bringing it with me.” Mom’s engagement ring from Dad should do the trick. Inexpensive and convenient. Though the thought of that ring on Kami’s finger sounds incredibly enticing, ruse or otherwise.
She gasps. “You will? You’re going to— Oh, I’m so happy. Got to go. We’ll talk soon.”
“Yes, we will, Mrs. Hernandez. It was lovely talking with you.” The call disconnects, and immediately my two friends burst out laughing.
“What the fuck was that, man?” Jake blurts out in laughter.
An opportunity. “Kami’s mom. She thinks I’m her daughter’s boyfriend.”
“Why didn’t you say you weren’t?”
I tell them how I met Kami, her resistance to giving me the benefit of the doubt, and how I had lied to her mother to get closer to her.
“Do you have any idea what you just did?” Jonathan’s voice fills with warning.
“I know.” I smirk. “Any chance Kiera could give me Kami’s number?”
If it weren’t for her constantly dodging me, I’d already have the damn thing in my phone by now.
“She’s going to fucking kill you; you know that?” Jake points out.
“I know, but she can’t. At least not until Thanksgiving is over.” While I feel a twinge of guilt about lying to such a sweet lady, the curiosity trumps that in comparison. “But seriously, could Kiera give me her phone number?”
“And do what with it?” Jonathan sends a knowing look.
“Just to tell her the wonderful news.” I can’t help but let my sarcasm run free.
“You know she probably won’t see it that way, right?” Jake shakes his head, still laughing.
“Oh, I’m counting on that.” I pause. “I only plan to tell her not what I did, but what I had to do.”
“Had or wanted to?” Jake challenges.
“Tomato, tomahto.”
“Don’t be surprised if a very angry woman walks into your bar today,” Jonathan warns.
“That’s the plan.” I smile. Anything to get her attention. Especially when she’s left me with no choice.
“You sure do have a death wish,” Jonathan shakes his head this time.
“Death wish or big balls? I can’t seem to tell,” Jake quips.
Jonathan texts Kiera, asking her to send him Kami’s number. I input the digits into my phone a few minutes later.
It’s true. She’ll definitely be pissed that I took advantage of her situation but will eventually understand I had no control. Not much, at least.
Her mom called me, not the other way around. Not my fault she jumped to conclusions.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Hope you enjoy her tearing you a new one.” Jake smirks.
I laugh, then walk into my office and close the door.
I press the phone to my ear and wait to hear her voice come from the other line. Instead, I’m met with her voicemail. Not ideal but still doable.
Once the beep goes off for me to leave a message, I start to give her a brief summary. The more I say, the more I start to wonder if I should find some protective gear for my balls.