Page 6 of The Perfect Heart

For a moment, staring at the paltry selection of clothing and the even worse situation in my wallet, I had considered calling Mom to ask for money. But I’d put my phone back into my purse and handed over the cash. Not only did Mom not have a lot of money herself, but I was not going to drag her into this situation, one I had created myself, any more than I had to. Plus, I knew questions I wasn’t ready to answer would come with that money.

Rinsing my mouth out, I returned to the bed and considered my choices, choosing a sweater dress over leggings and the boots I had found. The pair had seen better days, and I wasn’t convinced they would keep out any of the cold or snow, but, well, all I had to do was get over to the bar and back.

A glance at the clock told me I was running low on time, and I hurried through the rest of my routine, severely truncated to the few finds from the drug store instead of the parade of products I had left behind. I glanced at the kitchen and the small collection of food I had collected with the last of my cash, hoping tips would give my wallet a boost by the end of the day. But I decided against breakfast—my stomach, twisted in knots, rejected the thought very clearly.

It didn’t help that I could still feel the last whisps of my nightmare, the voice echoing around the back of my consciousness. Going around with this shadow over me was not how I wanted to start my first shift.

The day was blindingly cold—or maybe I had become unaccustomed to the temperature in the middle of winter up here. It was also blindingly bright, the sun reflecting off the snow, making it glitter wildly, and I had to dig in my purse for my sunglasses. My spill onto the pavement had chipped the paint on a corner, but at least they hadn’t shattered.

As I had suspected, the boots didn’t do a thing to keep the elements out, and by the time I got to the Tipsy Tiki, my toes hurt from the cold. At least I had the coat and gloves, though. And Nash’s beanie, which still smelled faintly of him.

As I reached the door, my hand hesitated on the pull.

I had worked various jobs from the time I was fourteen—grocery store bagger, retail in the shops up and down Front Street, even at a call center for a bit, taking complaints and abuse when I had started design school. But it had been several years since I had worked any type of job, and server and bartender were not among them.

Well, the only thing I could do was try—move forward, one step in front of the other.

Just one more step. Then one more. And another after that.

Behind the bar again, Nash looked up as I pushed the door open. From the way his shoulders tightened, I could tell he was getting ready to tell me the bar wasn’t open, just as he had the other night. But the warning brightened to an enormous smile that lit his face.

“Halle.”

My name on his lips said with such affection and eagerness at seeing me set off an odd sense, one of warmth, and a shift, as though something had moved that had gone cold from neglect all these years. It left me a little stunned, and my feet stayed glued to the floor even as Nash came out from behind the bar toward me.

And again, he stopped just short of me, his hands moving for a moment like he wanted to hug me but had stopped himself.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, reaching out to squeeze my shoulder before he turned and gestured at me. “Hey, everyone, this is Halle. She’s starting with us today, so go easy on her, okay?”

He gave me one of his dazzling smiles and winked, and despite the nerves flipping my stomach over and around, I smiled back. How could I not?

I got a few small waves from the other employees and even a smile from a guy messing with a keg behind the bar.

“C’mon, let me show you around.”

I followed Nash, my boots squelching enough that a dark-haired woman wiping down tables noticed. She had scarcely given me a wave at Nash’s introduction, and her look now held barely checked contempt, her eyes taking in my boots, traveling up to my clothing and jacket. But they narrowed as she saw the beanie before she jerked her attention away.

I didn’t understand the hostility. Did she know the beanie was Nash’s? Why would she care?

“I’m glad to see you’re dressed more warmly,” he said, leading me to the back, and I laughed.

Nash showed me around the back, including his office, the storeroom, and the kitchen, where he introduced me to the cook, Will.

“So I’m going to have you trail Joseph around today.”

Nash waved at the guy behind the bar, still fiddling with the keg. Relief washed through me at the realization that he wouldn’t put me with the woman, and the guy, Jack, seemed friendly.

“Jo, this is Halle. Show her the ropes behind the bar today?”

“You got it.” Joseph smiled again and held out his hand to me. “Nice to meet you, Halle.”

I took his hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you.”

“Okay, well.” Nash clapped his hands together and took a step back. “I have some work to get done in the office, but Halle, let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“I will.”

The smile I offered him was warm, and I hoped he could see the thanks in there, grateful for this chance to work. I had expected to go hungry for a few days while searching for a job.