Page 20 of Run to Me

Catching a break between demanding customers, I approach her table. And what does she do? She runs away, leaving me to chat up Tatum and the actor in the green button-down who has everyone’s attention.

While I’m bummed about not talking to Maisy, I earn a consolation prize. Tatum offers to put on a show at Bruno’s, which will be great for business. She hasn’t performed in Walford in over a decade, and people will arrive in droves to hear her sing.

The second our chat ends, I make a beeline for the bathroom to trap a flighty bird. Only, when I get to the hallway leading to the restrooms, a long line of women blocks my path. Guess I’ll add ladies’ bathroom expansion to my research list. Since my mother didn’t raise an asshole, I stop myself from barging through the line. Instead, I spin on my heel and stride toward the bar.

I’m stopped seven times during the twenty strides it takes to cover the distance. Twice, I’m asked if the election rumors are true. Two other times, older women offer to set me up with their granddaughters. The other three people complain that Ainsley hasn’t returned with their drinks.

I peer over the crowd, craning my neck in all directions while searching for my employee. When I don’t spot her anywhere on the floor, I change trajectory and slip into the kitchen, cursing because the chances of Maisy leaving the bar increase with every minute that passes. And I want to talk to her before she escapes again.

Ainsley’s tucked in the corner by the cubbies where the staff keep their personal effects. With puffy pink eyelids, it’s obvious she’s been crying. I keep a safe distance of ten feet because she’s a female employee and I’m not an idiot. Despite being frustrated with the Maisy situation, overwhelmed by the number of customers, and pissed about the pressure to run for mayor, I gentle my tone toward the upset girl.

“You okay, darlin’? Did something happen out there I should know about?”

With an adamant shake of her head, her ponytail swings. “No. I just needed a minute. We’re slammed tonight.” Her dark eyes remain pinned to her beat-up white sneakers as she lies to me.

Ainsley’s been working here for three months, and I don’t know a thing about her other than she’s in college. She only shares information about herself if it pertains to her job, like needing Wednesdays off so she can attend a night class. There’s a small university half an hour away from Walford, and I assume she’s enrolled there.

I’ve never asked because I’m not one to pry into anyone’s business, but people open up to me because I own a bar. Being a good listener comes with the territory. However, Ainsley keeps her secrets, personal life, and past locked up tight. The only person she interacts with, albeit reluctantly, is Brody. His name coming to mind piques my curiosity but also puts me in protective mode.

“Has Brody done something?”

Her brown eyes snap to mine. “Why would you think that?”

“He’s always showing up, watching you like a hawk,” I say, unable to hide the accusation in my tone. “If he’s making you uncomfortable, and I need to put a stop to it, say the word. He’ll be out of your life by tomorrow.”

Brody doesn’t pursue women for anything beyond a good time. For all I know, he has one night only tattooed on his dick as a message to all the ladies, which is why his constant presence in Ainsley’s orbit confuses me. Plus, he’s nine years older than her. My mind can’t wrap itself around the thought of him taking advantage of a twenty-year-old college girl, but there have been several recent moments when I’ve wondered if any of us know the real Brody.

Ainsley supports this theory when she narrows her eyes at me. “Brody’s not who you⁠—”

“Am I supposed to sink this ship alone?” Javi says while pushing through the swinging door. “Get your asses out here. People want to drown in liquor now that Rock and Lucy’s duet ended. It was a nightmare.”

“All your negative energy is hindering my shadow work,” I tell him with a frown, feigning disappointment. “I’ll have to start from the beginning.”

He’s been preaching to me about the benefits of shadow work, which entails identifying all my worst traits and accepting them as part of my true identity. Yeah, I’ll pass. I’m more than familiar with my grey areas and prefer to keep them hidden.

Javi flips me off on his way out. Ainsley trails behind him, eager to end my line of questioning about Brody. When they’re gone, I revel in a moment of solitude, ignoring the loud music and louder conversation pressing against the door.

Remembering Maisy’s on the other side of said door, I shove it open and enter the fray. Tatum and her bodyguards are gone, leaving Maisy and Graham behind, and he’s trying to help her into her coat.

She’s drunk, swaying and laughing while he works her arm into a sleeve. Someone calls my name, but I’m already stalking toward my girl, annoyed that this good-looking rich dude gets to touch her and take her home and I don’t. As I reach their table, she rises on her toes and kisses him on the jaw. My teeth clench together, so it’s difficult to speak.

“Need some help?” I ask, wishing I didn’t have to address Graham. Wishing I could be the one helping Maisy. Hell, I would’ve never let her get this drunk. At this point, she’s sagging against his chest, half asleep.

“I’ll carry her if you can grab her bag and phone,” he says. I want to carry her.

“Sure.”

He scoops Maisy into his arms. I snatch her purse and phone off the table, then I follow him outside and down the sidewalk.

“Isn’t he pretty?” she slurs, smiling with glassy, hooded eyes as she talks to me. “He wants to fuck me. Most guys do.”

Graham chuckles, but I’m not laughing. Red paints everything in my field of vision because she’s looking right at me but talking about him and other guys.

“He’s such a good kisser. A smooching god. I bet he has a mega dick.”

The smile on her face is so big and beautiful, it’s painful to witness. Seeing happiness touch her face because she’s thinking of another man hurts more than I ever imagined it could.

She tries to whisper in Graham’s ear, but every slurred word reaches me. “Do you think he’ll show it to me?”