12. Bailey
Bailey
“He slept in your bed? You naughty girl!” Harper exclaimed.
“How is that all you got from our entire conversation?” I sighed. “The lines are blurred. The lines are so freaking blurred. I swear housekeeping gave me the side-eye when I walked downstairs.”
“Okay, so the lines are a little blurry, so what? Is he docking your pay because you won’t sleep with him? Slapping your ass in the lobby?”
“Of course not!”
“I just don’t see what the harm is, Bailey. He’s clearly obsessed with you,” Harper snorted.
“The harm is he’s still technically my boss, and I’m here on a trial basis. If I don’t impress him, he doesn’t have to renew my contract.” I paused and took a breath. “And I don’t want to confuse impressing him professionally with impressing him…romantically. I can’t tie my worth up in that.”
Harper sighed. “That’s fair, babe…but you deserve happiness, too. Your parents sucked the life out of you during school, and you never did anything for yourself—never took a wild shot in the dark. What if this is your shot?”
“And what if it isn’t?” I shot back.
“What happens when I admit the room gets brighter when he walks in? Or how I’ve never met someone who understands my cues so effortlessly, or who always leaves a cup of coffee on my desk on Monday mornings?
What happens when I let myself feel joy, only to have it ripped away?
I can’t ask him to be all in on me when our time might have an expiration date—when I might be temporary. ”
Those were thoughts I hadn’t planned on ever speaking out loud, but it almost felt cathartic to finally get them off my chest.
“Are you still seeing your therapist?” Harper asked.
“Shit, can you tell we’ve been off since I moved here?”
Harper burst into laughter. “What happens when you get to live happily ever after and have cute-as-fuck babies with him? Sometimes the payoff is worth the risk.”
But how would I know if sometime was now?
“Thank you for listening to me bitch and moan. I appreciate you and our friendship dearly,” I said.
“Back at you, B.”
I ventured into the lobby, where Grant rolled cases of wine into the restaurant.
“Need any help?” I asked.
He furrowed his brows. “Are you actually offering?”
“No, not really, but I have to keep up appearances,” I chirped with a smile.
Grant shot me the bird. I was an only child, so having this kind of brotherly camaraderie with him and Eli was unfamiliar but comforting.
I peeked into the bar area, intent on continuing to tease Grant, when familiar voices pricked my ears.
“Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay longer? I miss seeing you around here,” Noah said.
I looked around the corner and saw Tessa talking with him.
“If I stay any longer, you’re going to try and get me to crack about the secret to my award-winning latte,” she said, giving him a pointed look.
Noah raised both hands. “Fair enough, fair enough. You know how much I like having you around, and you’re always welcome at the inn. I hope you know that.”
She gave him a hug that screamed familiar rather than friendly, and I felt my left eye begin to twitch.
It shouldn’t have bothered me. Noah was friendly with everyone.
Well, actually, he was quite grumpy with strangers and people new to town…
still, I found myself cataloging the distance between them, the angle of his smile.
Grant gave me an odd look. “You sure I can’t get you a drink? Or maybe a mild sedative…” he muttered.
“It’s one in the afternoon,” I said with a pointed stare.
“Yeah, and you’re about two hours behind already,” he replied with a smirk.
“Let me say hi to Grant before I head out,” I heard Tessa say in the other room.
My eyes widened, my brain scrambling to avoid a run-in with her.
“Oh shit, Grant, hide me behind the bar,” I whispered.
“You’re joking, right?”
“Does this look like the face of someone who’s joking? Hide me before I tell Noah how many free shots you gave out last weekend,” I hissed.
“You pinky fucking promised,” he whisper-shouted before gently shoving me between a case of beer and the ice bin.
“Hey, Grant,” Tessa said.
Grant popped up from behind the bar, no doubt looking guilty and flustered.
“Hey, Tess. Funny seeing you here! Looking for Eli?” he asked.
I heard grumbling and, “Why does everyone assume that I’m looking for Eli?”
“Do you want to stay for a drink?” he said.
I kicked his foot. We did not have time for anyone to stay for a drink and talk about how in love they were with Noah.
“It’s the middle of the day,” she said flatly.
“What is up with you people?” he exclaimed. “Ever heard of it’s five o’clock somewhere?”
“And it’s a Wednesday,” she retorted.
“What the fuck does that have to do with anything? Jesus, now I need a drink, and I’m the one working,” he mumbled.
They finished catching up, Tessa talking about new additions to her menu and Grant attempting to convince her that five shots of espresso was a perfectly normal amount of caffeine to consume.
“Don’t be a stranger, Grant. Come by the shop sometime, and I’ll make you that sugar bomb in a cup that you love so much,” she teased.
“Six pumps of vanilla is perfectly reasonable,” he mumbled before they exchanged goodbyes.
Thank goodness, my knees were killing me down here. I prepped to stand when I heard yet another voice that I was avoiding. My back cried in protest, and at this point, I planned just to make this bar crevice my new home.
“Have I seen Bailey?” Grant said, exceptionally loudly. “Excellent question, brother.”
I punched his thigh before finally peeking my head up from behind the bar.
“Hi there,” I said. I stood up and winced as I unfolded my spine from its cramped position.
Noah tilted his head but didn’t question my peculiar hiding spot.
“Can I talk to you in my office?” he asked.
I nodded, following him out while Grant teased me about heading into the principal’s office. I closed the door behind me, taking a deep breath to steady myself before turning around.
Damn, he looked good. His slacks hugged his muscular thighs, and he wore a crisp green polo that would make other men look like douchebags but made him look delectable. He leveled me with a stare, eyes roaming over me like he was seeing me for the first time.
“Bailey, are you free this Friday evening for dinner? With me?” he asked. His voice never wavered, but the way he wrung his hands together implied a semblance of nerves.
My conversation with Harper was fresh in my mind, and the lingering jealousy of Tessa was still tight in my chest.
“Are you asking me professionally or personally?” I asked.
He licked his lips. “Personally.”
I let myself picture it for just a moment. A candlelight dinner or drive-in movie, sneaking around like teenagers, and making out in the back seat.
“No.”
“No?” he asked.
“No is a full sentence, Noah,” I replied.
Now appearing flustered, he blinked. “You do realize I’m asking you on a date, right?”
“I do.” I met his gaze, forcing myself not to look away. “And I’m saying no because I won’t risk my career. Not here. Not when I’m still proving myself and when my future depends on whether or not I succeed in this role.”
His brows pulled together, something wounded flashing across his face. “Bailey—”
“You’re my boss,” I continued, my voice calm even as my heart hammered. “And I worked too hard to get here to blur that line now. I need to know anything I earn here is because I deserve it—not because of who I’m sleeping with.”
I exhaled, shoulders lifting in a controlled shrug. “Maybe ask Tessa. She seems available.”
His confusion was immediate, brows furrowing. “Why would I ask Tess—”
“If that’s all, boss,” I cut in evenly, “I’ve got a major festival to prep for this weekend. You know, the one you hired me to run and staff?”
I walked out of the office, Noah’s mouth still slightly gaping behind me, feeling in control of my actions for the first time since moving to Bexley.
The festival mattered. I needed it to matter more than him. I just hadn’t expected how hard I’d have to convince myself.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, the stress of the day catching up with me. My remaining to-dos for the festival were… daunting but certainly achievable; anything was, when you were desperate enough.
I needed to decide where the balloon arch would go, work with Eli to finalize the booth layout, and have a backup plan for crowd control in case the entire town showed up.
I spotted Eli at his desk and sprinted my way over, relieved that I’d get to speak with a Whitaker that I wasn’t embarrassingly attracted to.
“Hi, do you have some time to chat with me?” I asked.
“Time to chat with my favorite event planner? Absolutely,” he replied.
“Flattery will get you everywhere, Eli,” I said in a sing-song tone.
He pulled a chair over for me and turned to face me as I settled in.
“I’m assuming—” he started.
“Noah asked me on a date,” I blurted out. I seemed to only know how to do that when I was around Eli. His eyebrows raised, and he crossed his legs, leaning back in the chair.
“Oh, I’m just getting comfortable because it seems like we’re going to be here for a minute,” he said.
I rolled my eyes but gave him the shortened version of my encounter with Noah.
“And then you told him no?” he asked.
“And then I told him no.”
“Interesting,” he said, rubbing his chin. “I mean, no means no, and if you can expect anyone to respect that, it would be Noah.”
He must have seen the conflict on my face because he quickly added, “If that’s what you want?”
I paused. My brain was on one side of the spectrum, my heart on the other, and I was in the middle, being pulled around like a brutal game of tug-of-war.
“It is what I want. I think?” I said. “Everything I told him was one hundred percent the truth. I can’t take unnecessary risks here.”
“Have you thought about whether he might fall into the category of a risk worth taking?”
I narrowed my eyes. “That was oddly poetic for a man.”
“What can I say, I’m multifaceted.”
I opened up my laptop, the opinions of Harper and Eli bouncing around in my head. I would have to consider them at a later date; right now, I had work to do.
“Okay, let’s go over the booth layout, if you don’t mind. They need to be close enough together that the event feels cohesive and it’s easy for guests to jump from one to another, but also far enough apart that folks can mingle and spread throughout…”