Page 19 of Gravity

The door to my office opens and Ryan walks in, shocked to see me. He’s one of my top bartenders, and I can rely on him over everyone else.

“Jesus, Gray. Sorry. I thought you’d gone home hours ago.”

“Why do I have to call Nora?” I ask, hearing the hint of frustration in my own voice.

“Shit. I forgot to mention it. She applied for the job.”

My back straightens as he clarifies what I’ve been questioning all along. “When?”

“Earlier today.”

I wasn’t here. Is that why she came by?

“And you’ve given her the job?” I question.

He studies me for a moment, trying to work out my mood. “Well, yeah, kinda. I mean, given the fact it’s Nora, I didn’t think you’d mind. Do you mind?”

That’s a million-dollar question, and an even bigger challenge my desires will have to face.

“No. Not at all. But what do you mean, kinda?”

Heading over to the safe, Ryan enters the code before placing some money inside. “I sort of gave her the job but said I’d get you to make contact and confirm her start date.”

Well, he’s really thrown me under the bus with this one.

I pick up the post-it note and stare at her name, knowing now that I’m going to have to make contact with her.

“Right.”

“Gray, are you all right? You don’t seem yourself.”

Other than Asher and Mark, Ryan is the other person who knows my history with Mom. Watching her slowly deteriorate somehow educated me on the long-term outcome, so although her death was devastating, it somehow wasn’t unexpected. But these last two years have been a lot fucking harder than I anticipated.

“I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me,” I sigh, tossing down the post-it and scrubbing my hand over my face. “I’ve been staring at these damn papers for hours. My head’s all over the place.”

He takes a step toward the desk and looks at me sympathetically, which irritates me. I’ve seen that look too many times before, yet it’s my transparency that I’m pissed with more.

“Go home, Grayson. Get some down time.”

I don’t want to go home. There’s nothing but memories there.

“I haven’t got time for that. Things need to be done around here. It’s not easy running a bar, you know.”

I’d never wanted to run this place as a partnership. Being a man of determination and power, I’d decided to run it solo.

When I first took it on, the place had been a shithole. The walls were in need of a facelift, the flooring was old and outdated, and the bar area wasn’t all that great either. The décor that had been here previous wasn’t anything like I’d imagined and was certainly nothing that showed off my own personality either. So, I’d stripped it all back and worked every hour possible to get it looking how I’d visualized it.

Those had been the days when Mom seemed to be enjoying life; she’d come down here to keep me company or bring me food if I were working longer than I said I would. While I’d be painting the walls, she would be behind me, clearing up as I went, telling me I should remain tidy like she’d brought me up to be. I don’t know how many times I’d told her that you can’t possibly keep the place clean when you’re in the midst of a transformation.

“There’ll be no bar to run at all if our top guy is in pieces with exhaustion. You look like crap.”

“Thanks,” I say flatly.

“Go get some rest. I can close up here.”

“You did that last night.”

He folds his arms, making his biceps pop as he stands looking at me with determination in his eyes. “And it’s not going to matter that you don’t do it again tonight. Gray, you work your ass off every damn day of the year, and even more so since your mom died. Go home. That’s an order.”