Page 10 of The Perfect Heart

The tattooed bartender’s wicked grin was all the answer I needed, and I turned away, two bottles of beer in one hand, a plate of the appetizer sampler in the other.

Joseph’s compliment felt good. I had been working at the Tipsy Tiki for a week and was finally getting the hang of the job. There had been a few hairy moments, including one where I had forgotten the trick to the tap and beer had flooded the floor—a mistake apparently the entire staff made at some point, including Nash. I had dropped a few plates, gotten more than a couple of orders wrong, and there was still too much foam on top of the beers I pulled. But Nash had shrugged it all off, saying everyone made mistakes, especially their first few weeks.

And true to his word, I’d begun making fewer mistakes. I remembered orders. And I made sure I pushed the tap handle all the way back so it didn’t leak. I even had a few regulars who asked for me specifically to make their drinks or food, even if I had to whisper to Joseph to ask for their specific orders.

“She’s doing great, isn’t she?”

Nash was leaning against the end of the bar, grinning, his arms crossed. I meant to reply, but my gaze lingered there for a moment too long, taking in the way he had drawn back his sleeves to reveal his defined forearms.

I managed to tear my gaze away, only to find Nash’s grin had grown, tipping slightly higher at one end in a mischievous quirk. Did he know I’d been staring?

Flushing, I nudged him out of the way with my hip, throwing a smile over my shoulder as I passed on my way to the table.

That wasn’t the first time Nash had complimented me about my serving and bartending skills. The words of praise came frequently, and they boosted my confidence. But it wasn’t all about me, either. Nash seemed to subscribe to the school that believed in more praise than criticism, each correction sandwiched between two positives.

Not that I would have expected anything less from him. He had been unfailingly kind even in middle school, those difficult years of changes and discoveries.

But I liked the self-assurance that had grown alongside the kindness. I had been joking that first night when I’d said his assertiveness was sexy. Maybe sexy wasn’t the word—come on, it was Nash, the guy who had been my best friend—but it had certainly stirred something in me.

Even now, watching him run the bar, there were moments I had a hard time taking my eyes off him. He had a grin for every local and regular, words of welcome for the visitors. He would sit down with a beer and talk to the older couple who visited every year, make kids laugh, and flirt harmlessly with the young women who came in the door. All with an air of confidence that told anyone nearby he was in his element, doing what he loved, and he was damn good at it.

I loved that he had become so much, that he had seen his dreams through and was enjoying every moment. It was all I could have hoped and wished for him, for the guy who had once meant so much to me.

“Halle, order up.”

The shout from the kitchen jerked my attention away from Nash and back to the present.

“Coming!”

I nearly reached the kitchen when a laugh echoed across the room, and I almost tripped over my feet. Wheeling around, I peered at the bar from the safety of the shadows behind the bar, looking for the owner of the voice, my heart pounding against my ribcage.

The laugh reached my ears, sending my pulse skyrocketing higher. Until, at least, my gaze settled on the source—an older man, probably a tourist from his jacket with the logo of a football team on the other side of the country.

But most importantly, he wasn’t who I expected.

I let out the breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding, sagging back against the wall while I tried to bring my heart rate down.

Settling in and getting the hang of my job was one thing, but would I ever get over the fear Jack would find me? I saw him everywhere—in the shadows, on a park bench, through a shop window, down the grocery store aisle. Which was ridiculous because that man would never set foot in a grocery store. But I was both free and trapped, safe but not safe, held captive by the fear that he would find me.

At the apartment at night, I’d added an extra travel door lock to the regular locks and the chair forced under the knob. Heaven help me if the place caught fire because the firefighters wouldn’t be able to get in. I slept with the lights on and my phone by my pillow. I let Nash drive me to and from work, not because it was cold but because it was safer.

“Halle?”

I opened my eyes to find Jack the cook peering at me, two plates in his hands he had yet to deposit on the window.

“You okay?”

Gathering myself with a deep breath, I nodded. “Fine. Just didn’t sleep too well last night and needed to rest my eyes for a second.”

From the crook of his mouth, Jack didn’t believe me any more than I believed it myself. But I flashed him a smile I hoped was reassuring and took the plates from him with a chipper “Thank you” that I didn’t feel.

It hadn’t been a total lie, anyway—I wasn’t sleeping well at night.

The rest of the lunch shift passed uneventfully, though I was glad I didn’t have to serve the guy with the unnerving laugh. I did have a big table, though, and stood staring at the large number of drinks in front of me I had to carry across the bar. I didn’t yet have the hand strength or whatever it was that the other servers had to hold more than two at a time. Maybe three on a good day if one of them was a stein.

“Hey, Nicole.”

Passing by on her way to the kitchen, the other server looked my way. But her eyes narrowed when she realized who had flagged her down. I forged on anyway.