Page 2 of Fae Farewells

“Can I get a soda, please?”

“What kind?”

“I don’t care,” I answered as Bowers stood from his booth.

The guys would be here in twenty minutes, so I was content to ignore him as he left, but he finally spotted me.

“Don’t you work for me?”

“Depends on who’s asking,” I teased.

“I hired you last week, right? Vince?”

“This marks my second week. I’m Vaughn,” I corrected, then clenched my teeth.

I should have agreed to the new name.

“I used to know another Vaughn,” he told me, suspicion in his tone. “He’s an Englishman.”

“Must be a handsome guy.” Who needed to shut the fuck up… “I’m not English, as you can tell.” I pointed to my mouth. “Seattle. Sort of. Not the city center.”

Bowers nodded. “Yeah. You look similar, but he was a scrawny lad. I don’t imagine he’s—”

“Vaughn,” the man at the table called out to me. “Are you getting a drink or flirting? It doesn't take that long, mate.”

I closed my eyes for a brief moment, and Bowers chuckled.

“It’s guys’ night,” I lied. “We left the ladies at home so we could argue over finals in peace.”

“NBA or NHL?”

What the fuck did that mean? I didn’t have the slightest clue.

“Both if we have time,” the man joked, walking over to join us. “You wanna jump in the betting pool?”

“I’m due for dinner with my wife soon,” Bowers smoothly declined.

“Suit yourself.” The man shrugged, then slapped the bar top. “Joseph, a pitcher please.”

“I told you yesterday,” the bartender fussed. “My name is not Joseph.”

Ralph Bowers tipped his head at me before leaving, and I leaned back against the wall, relieved that he hadn’t recognized me.

This trip had nearly been a disaster. I couldn’t get that close to him again without compromising the investigation into my father’s abduction and murder. It would only take one slip for him to know I wasn’t some other Vaughn from Seattle, Washington.

I should have used a different name when I’d applied.

Though Nate King had assured me he’d built a believable backstory with all my forged documents.

“Come on.” The man motioned me to follow him to a new table away from the door. “It seems we’re both early. I’m York Briar.”

“Vaughn Winter,” I stated, taking a seat. “You’re the druid?”

“Surprised, Fae?” he whispered.

I dipped my chin in acknowledgment. “I am now.”

“You look like your father,” he told me.