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I feel lost. I never felt lost when Inez was around.
Ronan throws an arm around me and gives my shoulder a hard squeeze. “It’s safe to talk about your feelings, Nolan. This is a safe space.”
“A safe space? Be for real.” Shooting him a dangerous look, I roughly shrug him off. “And would you quit touching me?” So clingy, this guy. My twin brother is a six-foot-three professional hockey player with the soul of an over-stuffed teddy bear.
Safe space or not, there’s no way to say what I’m actually thinking without looking like I’ve lost my mind.
How do I tell them that I’m worried about her? The Inez I know is outgoing, vibrant, larger-than-life. Meanwhile the Inez on that TV screen? She’s just a pretty shell of herself, thirsty for the validation of some clout-chasing actor.
This Hollywood dude is slowly sucking all the juice out of her. He’s going to turn her into a bland Stepford wife, then he’s going to stick her on his shelf of trophies and leave her there to wither away. And there’s nothing I can do about it. This whole thing is fucking with my head.
Karli props her chin on Mason’s shoulder and scans my face, one eyebrow arched knowingly. “Admit it—you miss her.”
I toss the clipboard aside, folding my arms over my achy chest. “Of course I miss her.” I start rambling. “She left the bar in a crappy place. She was my best bartender. All the new employees I’ve hired to replace her are straight-up incompetent. Everything has been a shitshow around here since she quit on me.”
Daphne watches me, her eyes full of sympathy. “Are you sure that’s all it is?” she asks softly.
“Yes, that’s all it is.” At least, that’s all I’m willing to admit out loud.
None of them believes me.
“Sure, sure,” Darius mutters without looking up from where he’s typing on his phone.
Archer sits there, staring at me, like he’s waiting for me to lose my cool.
Felix purses his lips, clearly trying to keep from saying the wrong thing and starting a full-blown argument.
Ronan just smirks.
Boy, this is fun.
I’m about to defend myself—with more denial and lies—when a loud crash draws my attention to the other side of the room. My head swings around just in time to see the last of the drinks sliding off the new waitress’s tray.
Glasses smash and shatter on the floor. But Suzy barely takes her eyes off the flat-screen long enough to glance down at the mess at her feet. She’s too damn busy gossiping about the reality show with her customers.
I have a fucking headache.
With a sigh, I grab some rags and a broom from behind the bar. “Look—Inez is on TV, getting her happily ever after. And I’m here in this version of reality, where I have a business to run and a daughter to raise. That’s all there is to it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go clean up that mess before someone hurts themselves.” My aching feet move in the direction of the spilled drinks and shattered glass.
When she sees me approaching, Suzy finally gets her butt in gear and hustles off to replace the spilled drinks. “Sorry, boss.”
Yeah, yeah. Whatever.
As I sweep up the mess, cheesy upbeat music pours from the speakers and the show’s end credits run.
A bubbly TV announcer in a glittery evening gown pops up on the screen. “Stay tuned, folks. We’re experiencing a slight technical difficulty at the moment,” Sabrina Whatever-Her-Name-Is says, her fake smile faltering subtly. “But don’t go anywhere! Up next—Vance and Inez’s much-anticipated two-hour wedding special is coming to you ‘live’ from Sin Valley, Iowa! We’ll be right back after these messages.”
Fuck.
Inez is getting married. To that guy. On national television. Tonight.
It’s making me physically sick.
I can’t fucking watch anymore of this. If I don’t step away, I’m going to snap and say something I’ll regret.
Anxious and annoyed, I duck into the kitchen.
“Hey, Joe.” I tip my chin, offering a tired greeting to my cook.
