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This is a mistake. Surely he can fix it? “Okay, but look—Ethan—I’m a total grafter. I can work double shifts with no notice, and I’m popular with customers. You can ask—”
Ethan held up his palms. “Listen, Ben, I get it. Stavros made you a promise, but it’s not my fault he didn’t tell me. He left in quite a hurry and I guess some things got lost in the transition. My hands are tied. I wish I could help, but…I’m sorry. Look, I’m sure you’ll find something. If you need a letter of recommendation, gimme a call.” He grinned tightly and returned to his invoices.
With no visa, I’m fucked. Ben gulped, a sick taste burning his throat. What am I gonna do?
• • •
Hunter scratched his bare chest. Even in his cramped courier office, he worked half-naked. “Ben-dude, you okay? You look like you ate some bad shrimp.”
I’m sweating like I’m in a sauna. “I’m in trouble, mate.” Ben sagged into a chair. “The diner didn’t hold my job—they didn’t renew my visa. The three weeks left on it are tied to that job in that restaurant. I can’t legally work here anymore.”
“Jesus, yeah. Lose the job, lose the visa—and hey, good luck finding another restaurant to hire you and file paperwork in time.”
“Cheers.” Ben exhaled, worry gnawing at his gut. “That really makes me feel better.”
“Sorry.” Hunter grimaced as he shifted a bike made from spare parts.
“What the hell am I going to tell Riley?”
“Hey, maybe she’ll marry ya!”
“Fuck, I wouldn’t marry me.” Ben frowned and picked the peeling paint on the wall. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m crazy about her, but I’m nowhere near ready to be a husband.”
Hunter tapped his fingers against his lips. “Hmm, there is a guy I know who might need bar staff. Would be legit, too. He got that same visa for some guys a few months back. I saw on Facebook he’s chillin’ in Miami, but I’ll call him this weekend when he’s back.”
Hunter’s impressive contact list saves the day again. “Ah, that would save me. Thanks, mate!” Ben’s smile gave way to a yawn, his stamina still not back to normal. “And I’d really like to get back on my bike, do some deliveries—is that cool? Some tax-free cash would be really helpful.”
“Job’s yours, you know that, but you sure you’re ready to ride?”
“Yeah, no problem!”
“But they cut your stomach muscles, man.” Hunter picked up a spare tire. “I’m no doctor, but I know a bit about abs. You need your core to cycle. If your muscles aren’t completely healed, you should probably wait—”
“No, I’m good. Never felt better! I can start tomorrow…if that works.”
“I could definitely use you, but I dunno…”
“Hunter, dude, I’m ready!” Ben looked around the small room. “Where’s my bike?”
“The new guy has it.” Hunter’s phone began to ring. He motioned to three bikes near the door. “Grab any of those tomorrow.”
“Brilliant!” Ben’s grin faded as Hunter answered his call. But what if the bar job doesn’t come through…?
• • •
Ben set plates down on Riley’s tiny counter. I’m not hungry, not after the day I’ve had. “How was therapy?”
“Good.” Riley filled a tortilla with romaine lettuce, chicken, and Caesar dressing. “We talked about Pip leaving and me living alone again, and we did another CBT exercise together.”
“Coping strategies…that cognitive behavior stuff works, eh?”
“Yeah, it takes practice. It’s not easy replacing negative thoughts with positive ones, but I’m really trying. I feel like I’m rewiring my brain—in a good way!”
“Well, I think you’re amazing—and brave. Asking for help is a huge step. I’m proud of you, Riles.” Ben leaned over, kissing her temple.
“Thanks.” Riley glanced over her shoulder. “Last night was so quiet without the chaos of Pip.” She pouted. “I miss her.”
“Have you spoken yet?”
