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“Why did she do that painting?”
“Some other artists had grown jealous and had tried to destroy her career. They had sent people to give her horrible reviews, and they’d gone to social media making up things about her life. They did podcasts and blogs just…hating her. It had hurt her income, hurt her legacy, hurt the reputation she’d built for so long. She knew and had been kind to some of the artists, and had even considered them friends. Her painting ended up selling for a stupid amount of money. She’d felt she couldn’t address the online bullying because it would make it worse, so she painted her feelings. She gave her pain to her art. Now, those other artists are nobodies, just like they were before, and Brooke took her career back. She did it with that painting. I had dreamed of it, and then it came to fruition. It was Brooke’s healing moment, but for me, it was the worst moment of my life.” Lucia rubbed the back of her neck. “I can’t believe I’m telling you all of this. In a bar. Surrounded by people. I hate talking.”
“It won’t go anywhere but here,” he promised.
“My shero cried for me.”
“Your mom?” he guessed.
Lucia nodded. “She’d been praying none of her kids got the sight, and now she had two.”
“Weston and you,” he uttered.
“Weston was lucky because he found people who understood. A mate who loves him despite it. For me?” She shrugged. She wanted to say it. She wanted to tell him her dream—the one where Smashland Mobile Park was burning, but she had come to and her brain was trying to understand why she’d just regurgitated all of that personal information. Heat tinted her cheeks. “You’re up.”
“I mean…none of my stories are going to be that cool.”
“Uh, that is not a cool story, and I meant you’re up in pool.”
“Oh. Ha. Right.” Landon stood and took the offered pool stick from her hand, then chalked it and shanked the cue ball. It landed suspiciously close to the blue two ball, which happened to be sitting in front of a side pocket.
“You’re a reverse cheater,” she accused him.
“I once had a dream that I was a pigeon.”
Surprised, she rocked her head back and laughed. “You’re dumb.”
“It wasn’t even a healthy-looking pigeon either,” he admitted. “And it was purple.”
All of the insecurities that had tried to rear their ugly heads were silenced with his silly dream. Landon was a mess, but compared to her he was soooo…normal.
He didn’t need to hear it, but it was nice to be around him.
For the next ten minutes, Landon had her laughing and trying to remember that she was a badass, quiet, immoveable female.
As they battled in what had to be the longest game of pool in history—because Landon kept missing on purpose to keep her chances of winning alive—she realized she was actually having fun. Lucia looked around, baffled at how different she felt in this place right now. This was where she worked. It was business as usual, except she felt entirely different than she usually did when she was in this bar.
On his next turn, she made her way to the table in the corner and took a sip of her drink. She had that fuzzy little buzz that made her relax a little more.
“Do you know who he is?” a man said.
Lucia didn’t realize the man was talking to her until he said, “Hey, lady in the green dress. Bartender. Do you know who he is?”
She slid an annoyed glance over to the bearded man in a red-and-black flannel. He was about her age, and leaning on a round table.
“She knows who I am better than you know who I am,” Landon said smoothly from where he was lining up a shot. “Why don’t you do us a favor and piss off. She don’t want to talk to you.”
“Oh he’s one of them protective ones, isn’t he?”
The man looked familiar, but she couldn’t put a finger on who he was. “I’ve seen you in here before,” she said.
He slid off his baseball cap and ran his hands over a mussed mohawk, and now she really recognized him.
“You and your friends are always by the pool tables. You never order your drinks. You have a blonde lady order them for the group.”
“We got a beer bitch,” he said with a grin. “That’s what she answers to. I bet you make a pretty good beer bitch, too.”
Well, now she had murder on her mind.
