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His dark brows angled into thunderbolts. “No, I’m not kidding. Beau approves, and I—”
“Oh my god, Beau approves? You talked to my brother about dating me even though I’ve never shown a drop of interest in being anything more than what we are? Come on, Nick.” I shook my head, spotting my tray and silly little hat sitting on the table he always kept empty for me. There was no way I could bear putting my costume back on tonight. Not after this.
“Just calm down.” He laid his hands on my shoulders and lowered his voice like he was talking to a child or hysterical woman.
I wasn’t hysterical.
I was pissed off.
“You tried to ruin my friend’s life for absolutely no reason.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “You trash-talking Miles, your friend, should have been my first clue about the type of man you are. Now, I know for sure. I’m going to get my things and take my friends somewhere else. Their drinks are on the house, by the way.”
“Daisy,” he bit out, his hold on me tightening, “there’s no way I’m letting you—”
The door swung open behind him, and Bea sauntered in, her tray tucked under her arm.
“How’s tricks, kittens?” she asked, her eyes sliding back and forth between us.
I shrugged out from under Nick’s hands and backed up a couple steps. “I was just telling Nick I’m taking off early. He’s not too pleased.”
“Hmmm.” Bea popped a hip, considering the two of us. “Your friends asked me to check on you. Looks like I showed up just in time to help you pack your things, huh?”
“Daisy…” Nick tried, “please. Let’s have a conversation.”
“We just did,” I said flatly. “Thanks for everything. I’m going to head out as soon as I get packed up.”
He waited another few seconds, then stomped to his office, slamming the door behind him. I was relieved he hadn’t gone into the bar. At least Elise wouldn’t have to see him again.
Bea helped me gather my things in silence, then she spoke, a tentative edge to her words.
“I want to say Nick’s an asshole.”
I grinned at her. “True. You called that one.”
“Yeah. I have a good spotter.” She tucked her blue hair behind one ear. “I’m thinking, if you don’t mind, I’d like to keep assisting you.”
My head jerked up to look at her. “Of course you’re going to keep assisting me.”
“Okay, good.” She exhaled, pressing a hand to her stomach. “So, I have a sister. She does monthly book clubs. I told her about your business, and she wants to buy a board for her club. Like, a monthly thing.”
I nodded. “That’s awesome. Get her on the books.”
“I will. But I was thinking, maybe you’re missing a demographic by going after all the rich people. What about Millennial wine moms? They’re always doing book clubs or crafting parties or fundraiser shit. My sister is on the PTA at her kids’ school. I think it’s an untapped resource.”
“Bea!” I never exclaimed, but I did this time. From the way she jumped, I’d alarmed her with my sudden display of enthusiasm. When I threw my arms around her, she actually yelped. “You’re brilliant, woman. Millennial wine moms. I love it so much.”
She wiggled out of my arms, eyes wide. “Yeah, so, I could probably get us a lot of bookings for boards.”
My toes wiggled in my boots with happiness.
“Let’s do it.”
She shot me a full-wattage smile for probably the first time in our acquaintance. “Let’s do it.”
After that, I walked out of High Bar for the final time, my girls helping me carry my boxes and bags, cautiously optimistic about what was to come.
Professionally.
That was what I’d hang onto for now.
