6. Sawyer
SAWYER
NINE WEEKS LATER
“There’s a cab waiting outside. You don’t have to leave, but you can’t stay here,” Duke said, tossing a rag over his shoulder. He was in some kind of staring contest with the old man across the bar from him. Neither of them so much as twitched a muscle. It was like watching two statues at a museum.
To his credit, Too-Drunk Johnny was always that. Too drunk. I wasn’t sure what had happened to him in life that would make sober living a nightmare, but he spent his days drowning his sorrows in cheap liquor and bad decisions. He spent damn near every day here.
I asked Duke why he allowed it one day, and he told me he’d rather have him here, where he knew someone would always be able to look out for him, rather than ban him from the bar like every other establishment in a thirty-mile radius had done.
“He’s gonna drink regardless. Might as well be somewhere I can keep an eye out for him. ”
Duke was just that kind of guy. He’d tried giving Johnny a job, but that failed spectacularly. He even tried to help Johnny get into rehab a time or two, but it never stuck.
Johnny would just show up the next day, and begrudgingly drink the water Duke slid his way.
“Fine. I’m going,” Johnny said, pushing the empty glass toward Duke. “Gerald’s probably missing me anyway.”
Lately, Johnny had been staying with one of our other old, grumpy regulars. They were fast friends, and I think Gerald enjoyed the company more than he let on.
“Tell the old man I said to feel better. I don’t know how to do my job without him barking orders and telling me I don’t know shit about making drinks,” Duke snorted. He took the glass and placed it in the dishwasher before turning it on.
I waited near the exit, watching the exchange with a forced smile, as Johnny trudged to the door. The stench of alcohol hit me like a punch to the gut. I tried my best to breathe through my mouth, but that somehow made it worse. I could practically taste the cheap tequila wafting off him.
“Night, Johnny,” I said, giving him a slight nod. “Get home safe.”
He paused at the threshold, looking like he wanted to say something, but shook his head instead and walked out the door. The moment he was clear, I flipped the lock and turned off the neon ‘Open’ sign in the window.
“That’s a wrap,” I muttered, walking toward the bar. Duke was smiling as he sprayed the lacquered surface with a disinfectant. Saturdays at Frank’s were always hectic. Tonight was no exception. But this one had kicked my ass.
It’d taken every bit of energy I could muster to give the patrons a smile that never met my eyes, or not gag at the scent of straight liquor every single time someone asked for a shot.
“You good?” Duke asked, watching me carefully as I sank onto one of the leather stools.
I reached up and unfastened the claw clip holding my hair in place, running my fingers through the tangled tresses. “I’m just tired. Haven’t been sleeping well.”
It wasn’t a lie. Not entirely.
The part I failed to mention was how my sleeping schedule had been shit since I called his wife to pick me up after my first and only one-night stand over two months ago.
No matter how hard I tried to get it out of my mind, it always came back, forcing me to relive one of the greatest nights of my life, knowing I’d never experience anything like it again.
Was I being dramatic? Sure. But I’d earned it.
Looking back, the whole situation had been a terrible idea.
I knew what a hopeless romantic I was. Knew how hard it would hurt when I walked away and he didn’t try to follow.
It would’ve been for the best if I’d kept to myself and never found out what it was like to be kissed within an inch of my life.
Maybe then I wouldn’t be replaying it every night with my hand between my thighs and could get some actual sleep instead.
But it was too late for that.
My best bet now was to put my crush to rest for good and get back to being the wallflower of Pinecrest—watching everyone else get their happy ending.
“You look a little pale,” Duke murmured, coming to a stop in front of me. “When’s the last time you ate something?”
I cringed, knowing my answer was going to earn me a severe look of disappointment. “Oh. Um, I ate a protein bar earlier.”
Duke crossed his arms. “What’s that mean?”
Instead of answering him immediately, I ran my finger along the woodgrain pattern on the bar. “You know… Earlier.”
“Sawyer—”
“Uh oh. What’d she do?”
Duke and I glanced toward the back of the bar where Olivia had just strode in.
She was wearing one of the new t-shirts they had designed for Frank’s brand refresh.
A cowgirl in a martini glass winked at me as Olivia came to a stop beside her husband.
I gathered the shirt must have been his because it damn near swallowed her.
He smiled, giving her a once-over before leaning in for a chaste kiss. I should’ve looked away, but I couldn’t. Not when I could see every ounce of love he felt for her shining in his eyes. “I asked Sawyer when she ate, and she said earlier.”
Olivia’s smile dropped as she turned to me. Had I said Duke’s disappointment was worse? I lied. His wife’s put him to shame. “So, you haven’t eaten since you left your house this morning?”
It hadn’t been intentional, but today was busy.
On the weekends, I volunteered with my grandma at the assisted living home where most of her friends lived.
Somehow, she’d roped me into helping tend the community garden they were planting which is where I’d spent nearly every Saturday morning for the past few months.
By the time I dropped her back at the house, it was nearly time for my shift at Frank’s. We ran out of lunch meat for sandwiches yesterday. My check hadn’t hit the bank yet, so the grocery store was out of the question. It was a little hard to pack a lunch with an empty fridge.
“It’s fine. I’m fine,” I said, pushing to my feet. The moment I did, a wave of nausea almost sent me to my knees. I braced my hands on the bartop and let out a shaky breath. “Okay, maybe I spoke too soon.”
Duke muttered a curse as Olivia rounded the bar. She placed her hand on my back, rubbing comforting circles as I closed my eyes and tried to focus on not throwing up all over her feet.
Guilt washed over me at their concern. Duke and Olivia had enough on their plates to worry about without adding me to the mix.
I was twenty-four years old. I should’ve been able to take care of myself, right?
And eating definitely fell into the category of basic needs.
If I couldn’t do that, what right did they have to put so much trust in me when it comes to their bar?
Lately, I felt like all I’d done was make mistakes.
I’d been late to work twice in the past few weeks because I’d overslept, which never happened to me.
I’d forgotten multiple customer orders and received a well-deserved dressing down from some prissy tourist about her watered-down vodka cranberry.
And last week, I’d forgotten to lock the back door as I was leaving.
Thankfully, nothing happened, but Duke’s worry felt a hell of a lot more like disappointment.
A knife to the chest would’ve hurt less.
The sound of a wrapper crinkling had me prying open one of my eyes just in time to see Duke sliding a protein bar my way. “Eat,” he said, dipping his chin.
I shook my head. “I’m fine. This place is almost cleaned up anyway.
I’ll be out of here in an hour. Two, tops.
” Even when Duke closed with me, I usually took it upon myself to stay late and batch our receipts for the evening.
He had a wife and two kids at home, while my grandmother slept most of her day away.
“Actually, you’re done for the night,” he said. “I’m sending you home.”
“What?” My head shot up as I stared at the man in question. “You can’t be serious. I’m fine. It was just a head rush. You know how it gets this time of year. The season change always brings on a new wave of people.”
Olivia’s brows furrowed, but Duke didn’t budge. “You said it yourself. Most of the shit that needs to be done is already done. Olivia and I can finish the rest.”
“But the girls—”
“Are with Grady and Cleo tonight,” Olivia said, offering a smile. She placed her arms around my shoulders and squeezed. “They’re fine. We’ve got this.”
If that was true, why did I feel like the world’s biggest disappointment as I grabbed the meager protein bar from between us and slipped off the stool? “Are you sure? I promise, I’m better now. I can help.”
Duke’s response was to march to the back door, grab my purse and keys from the cubby there, and set them in front of me. “Text one of us when you make it home. I want to know you made it there safely.”
As I gathered my things, I realized how lucky I was that my bosses actually gave a damn about me. Others had it far worse than I did. This was a gift, and my grandma always said I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
But that never made much sense to me. Try telling that to the people of Troy. I bet they wish they’d looked a little bit closer.
There was no point in arguing with either of them. Duke and Olivia were a match made in heaven. Both stubborn as hell and unyielding when it came to their decisions. “Come on. I’ll walk you out,” Olivia said, gesturing toward the back.
“Okay,” I said, refusing to meet either one’s gaze.
I followed, mumbling my thanks to Duke as he finished cleaning, and Olivia held the door open as we walked into the night.
The seasons were starting to change. The green of summer was slipping away, leaving the burning red and orange foliage of fall in its place.
This was my favorite time of year. The air was crisp, smelling like freshly baked apple pie from the last local bakery off of Main Street.
In just a few months, we’d see the first snowfall of winter.
It was all magical. Like something out of a movie.