Three Months Later… #2
My laugh was watery this time as I struggled to hold back tears—that was one of the things I’d been working on.
It was okay to be emotional. I didn’t need to hold it together all the time.
The last thing I needed was to lead myself into another panic attack that landed me in the hospital, thanks to my asthma.
That had been another small miracle. When those bills arrived, they’d been catastrophic.
No one should ever have to choose between their life and keeping a roof over their head, but that was what the American medical system did.
We’d called the hospital, and they’d connected us with a social worker.
When I explained my situation, about how I’d just lost my job and was about to lose my apartment, she said the most magical thing I’d ever heard anyone say. “Don’t worry about it.”
And just like that, my bill was gone. She explained that most people don’t realize that they can call and talk to the billing department.
That they understood that people went through hard times and were often more than willing to offer payment arrangements or even write off the hospital visit.
It was still stupid that they had to do it to begin with, or that the knowledge should be more common.
But I needed to answer Victor’s question. He’d been such a stable rock through everything. There were times that I felt bad that I couldn’t return his feelings. He’d find the right person for him, eventually.
“Do I have a choice?” I asked.
He chuckled and placed a kiss on my forehead. “Of course you do, love. You two are partners—if you’re uncomfortable with anything, you should be able to tell him that.”
“You mean, like, I’m uncomfortable with this?”
We jumped apart to see Whiskey leaning on the back doorframe.
He’s been quiet when he entered the room.
That was one of the things he’d gotten good at over the last month or so since we’d been working on opening the new bar.
Out of everyone who had followed Victor, I was most thankful for him and Justine, who would be starting work as soon as she had her baby girl and finished her maternity leave.
Because once Victor had found out about her situation, he insisted that he pay her for her time off. There was a fight. She took the money.
Justine was still battling sickness, causing her to be admitted to the hospital.
Another reason she ended up accepting the help.
The stay there would end up being astronomical.
At least in her case, she was able to talk to a social worker upon admission.
They were able to talk about her financial situation.
I tried to make it over there at least once a week to see her, despite how skinny she’d gotten from being so sick—her belly was huge.
I had to keep asking her if she was sure there was only one baby in there.
“Why the hell does this make you uncomfortable?” Victor asked.
Whiskey’s cheeks turned a bright shade of pink, but he said nothing. If I had to guess, he had a thing for Victor, but after how things had ended with me, he’s sort of sworn off people he worked with. On top of it, he was technically the boss now—he didn’t want to cross any weird lines.
I let go of Victor, walking over to Whiskey, throwing my arms around him in a tight hug. “Admit it, you just want some love, too.”
He giggled, returning my embrace. At least I’d been able to lighten the mood.
“Before I forget, there was this lady outside. I told her the bar didn’t open for another hour or two, not that she looked like someone who should be drinking, anyway.”
That got my attention. “What do you mean?”
Whiskey shrugged. “She said she knew one of the people who worked here and was hoping to talk to him. Wanted to run it by you first since she mentioned Orion.”
It surprised me because Orion didn’t technically work at the bar.
He’s agreed to help Victor out if he needed it, but most of the time he’d probably be too busy with the garage.
If things were getting more intense with the involvement of the law, Victor wasn’t going to be getting much help from Orion at all.
“What did she look like?” I asked.
Whiskey bit his bottom lip. “Pretty lady. Long red hair. Obviously going to have a baby. That's why I said she didn’t look like she belonged in a bar.”
I closed my eyes and cursed. This was probably the worst time for Whitney to reach out to her ex-husband, but Orion would want to know. He’d been so worried about how things had been going with her pregnancy.
“Is she still here?”
Whiskey nodded. “She said she didn’t mind hanging out and waiting for the place to open.”
Fuck, it was hot outside. I could understand why Whiskey wanted to check with me first, but there was no reason to leave a pregnant woman out in that heat.
When I walked back out into the main bar, Orion was by himself.
The detective had already left, reaching into the small fridge behind the counter to grab a bottle of water.
On my way out the door, I chanced a look over my shoulder. Orion looked so damn confused. Not that I could blame him. The most I could do was try to warn him I was about to escort his ex inside the building.
I detoured back to him, dropped the water on the counter, quickly looped my arms over his shoulders to lean in and give him a quick kiss. Go figure that he wasn’t about to let me get away with something small, but I was on a mission. As tempting as his mouth was, there were more pressing matters.
“Whitney is outside.” The words hung heavy in the air as they broke free from my lips the moment we broke the kiss.
Orion only stared at me. “What do you mean she’s outside?”
“Exactly what I said. Whiskey said he talked to her and told her she had to wait for the place to open. There’s no way I’m letting a pregnant lady hang out in that—”
“The heat,” Orion cut me off. He tried to stand, but I pushed him back onto his stool.
“Let me talk to her. She doesn’t know who I am, and I want to bring a peace offering.”
Orion stared at the water bottle on the counter before looking at me and nodding. “Just please be careful.”