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“Okay,” I say softly, “you have a date.”
“Good, how about tomorrow? That way, you can’t change your mind.” I laugh now. “I’ll text you my address.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I reply, and this time he winks at me before walking out the door.
“So how did it go?” Brady walks back into the distillery from the bar.
“He took twenty cases.” His eyes about pop out of his head. “Twenty-five percent instead of twenty commission, but it’s not zero.”
“Fuck.” He runs his hands through his hair. “I can’t believe you did it.”
“And he asked me out,” I say, and he rolls his eyes, “so high five.” I hold up my hand.
“I am not high-fiving my sister for having a date.” He slaps my hand away, making me laugh as he turns and goes back to the bar. “Proud of you,” he tosses out right before he walks out of the door.
Six hours later, I’m behind the bar looking at the eight people who are in tonight. All of them from out of town, not one face I know, which is fine by me. I have just kicked Brady out of the bar and told him to go home. I’m walking around the bar to make sure everyone is okay when Darren walks in the door again. He takes a look around before heading to the bar and sitting on a stool.
I make sure everyone is taken care of before going back behind the bar. “What can I get you?” I ask him, tossing a napkin down in front of him.
“I’ll take the special blend,” he orders. I turn to pour in two fingers in the glass before walking over and putting it on the napkin in front of him.
“Fifty bucks,” I tell him and he tries not to laugh.
“It was twelve bucks the other day.”
“Inflation,” I inform him. I expect him to get up and walk out the door, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes out his cash and puts three twenties on the counter. “You can keep the change.” I start to walk away from him. “I would like to ask you some questions.” I raise my eyebrows as he takes out his notepad.
“Thought I made it pretty clear to you I wasn’t interested the last time,” I remind him and look up when I see someone coming in the door, and everything in my body stops dead. It can’t be, but as he gets closer and closer to the bar, there is no mistaking that my eyes are not playing tricks on me. He comes straight to the bar, standing between two stools, looking at me, and the only thing that comes out of my mouth is his name, “Charlie.”
Chapter Fifteen
Charlie
I lean against the bar, looking at the blood rush out of her face, her lips looking like they are going to tremble. “What are you doing here?” She looks at me and then at the man in front of her.
“Was out for a walk, decided I would come in and have a drink.” I pull the stool out and sit down. “This is where you get drinks at, isn’t it?” I look around the bar at some of the people sitting down, and I have to admit, I’ve never seen them in my life.
She walks down the bar, and I take her in. The past couple of days I’ve only seen her in shorts and a tank top. “What can I get you?” She stands in front of me with her button-down top loose around her.
“I’ll have the house whiskey blend,” I tell her. Turning, she nods and walks down the bar to get me my order, placing it down in front of me on a white napkin. “Thank you,” I tell her, picking it up and bringing it to my lips as she walks away from both of us sitting at the bar and makes her rounds. She comes back to fill two drinks before going back to the table. It’s a lot fuller than it’s been in the past couple of months. Actually, the past years, to be honest. I left my house after dinner, my feet going to the crash site and then turning off course to her house. The house was dark, as always, but I knocked twice before I walked around to the front, seeing her car wasn’t there. Before I knew it, I was making my way to town, telling myself I was just going for a walk, but also lying to myself. I have no fucking idea as to why I’m here, but I’m here.
“Can I get you anything else?” she asks the man sitting beside me.
“I have two questions, three at tops, and then I can get out of here, and you never have to see me again,” he replies. Something about what he says has the hair on the back of my neck standing up. “You were the one who came forward and started the investigation into the Cartwrights.” The hair on the back of my neck stays frozen in time as my body turns to stone.
“No,” Autumn snaps, “I’m not doing this. I don’t want to answer your questions. You need to leave.”
“It’s two questions.” He tries to make his case.
“The woman is telling you to go,” I speak up from my stool and turn, his beady eyes looking at me. “You asked him to leave before?”
“Yes,” Autumn says softly.
“Then I guess you should go.” I turn back to the guy, who picks up his drink and finishes it in two gulps, hissing.
“See you around,” he tells her as he walks out with his pad.
“Thank you,” she says, and I finish the whiskey in my own glass.
