Chapter forty
Girl Who Drank Wine
Quinn
So, as it turnedout, I was wrong about my dad partying it up in the Caribbean… But when Hux and I ventured up to the main house Sunday morning, we found him packing his things to head off to the Bahamas instead.
Hux and I had stayed at his parents house late the night before, figuring out details for the event next weekend, as well as logistics for Hux’s dream for the ranch.
Not gonna lie, I was a tiny bit disappointed when Hux hadn’t even gotten halfway through his proposal and Dad said, his words a bit rushed, albeit a bit hopeful, “You want the ranch? It’s yours.”
Hux and I had worked so hard on the proposal, and I was more than prepared to have to fight my dad on this to convincehim, so his quick acceptance was a bit—okay, a lot—of a let down.
But in the end, we got what we wanted.
My dad had mentioned he’d work with his loan company, work up a fair deal, and get it to Hux asap. Perks of being a realtor, I guess. He also said he’d help make some calls to get the ball rolling on any of the permits and licenses and other things we might need to turn this ranch into a therapy center.
The rest of the week was chaotic and hectic, but really productive, thanks to Hux and his family. But even as Saturday morning rolled around, my nerves wouldn’t settle. Not completely unheard of. I always got a bit nervous on the day of an event.
But this was different. This wasmy first event.If anything went wrong there was no one to take the blame but me. Anything forgotten: my problem.
“Okay, the florist should be here within the next half hour,” I said, walking into the living room of my guesthouse. Whit, Walker, and Dotty were already there, chatting quietly amongst themselves. “Caterers are coming around 4. The party rental company is getting the pool planked, while Hux and the guys set up chairs and tables. Oh, the DJ should be here around 3:30 to set up, and the mechanical bull and 360 camera thingy should be here sometime this afternoon as well.” I blew out a breath. “What am I missing?”
Whit stood from her spot on the couch and came over to me. “Nothing, Quinn. You got this, girlie. You just need to sit back, have a mimosa, or, like, five, let the hair and makeup artist doll you up in a bit, and just relax!”
So why wouldn’t the knots in my stomach lessen? I was missing something. I had to be. If it wasn’t any of the things I’d already mentioned, then what was—
“Oh my God, it’s my dress. I need to pick it up at the drycleaners.” The realization was like a weight off my chest.Thank God.
Whit waved it off like it was no big deal. Which, in the grand scheme of things, I guess it wasn’t. “Eh, that’s no problem. One of us can go get it really quick, or if you want to go catch a break for a moment, we can hold down the fort while you’re gone. Actually—” She strode forward and pressed warm, reassuring hands to my shoulders. “You go get yourself a coffee, take a breather, and get your stuff. We can manage.”
I frowned. “Are you sure?”
Dotty's words of reassurance settled whatever dwindling remnants of anxiety I had left. “Quinn, sweetie, go take a moment for yourself. You’ve done an amazing job. Between the three of us, we’ll keep these boys in line.”
“Okay, okay. Does anyone want anything from the coffee shop?”
I’d just put the orders into my phone when I got a call that made my stomach drop and twist, forming tight knots once more. By the time I hung up, my heart fluttered like hummingbird wings in my chest.
Taking a deep breath, I looked at everyone’s expectant gazes. “So, that was Isidro. His mom’s in the hospital and he’s no longer going to be able to work the bar tonight.”
“What about one of the hands?” Walker asked.
“We’ve already got them tasked out doing things.” I began pacing once more, willing my mind to think of another angle. This wasn’t anything more than a setback.I can make it work. “Okay, I’m gonna go into town, grab my dress, the coffees, and see if I can find any servers who want to make some extra cash. Tell Hux I’ll be back.”
I checked my phone for the time as I grabbed my car keys. 12:30 PM. Okay, I could make this work.I got this. I got this. It’s all going to be okay.
I hoped.
Ipicked up mydress without a problem, but trying to find someone to bartend seemed to be an impossible task. Everyone either was under twenty-one or way too old. I’d honestly resigned myself to just working behind the bar myself by the time I gave up my search and headed to get coffees—I’d worked as a server for a bit, and while I wasn’t great, I could make it work if needed.
I sat at one of the tables in Sunshine's by the little pick up counter, waiting for my order, and shot off a text to Whit about how I hadn’t found anyone and was heading back. The bell above the door dinged, announcing a customer, but I didn’t look up, too distracted on how the hell I was going to pull off serving alcohol all night to about a hundred or so guests. I didn’t know how to make any specialty drinks other than a gin and tonic or a jack and coke.
God, I was so fucked.
Jimmy, the old man who owned the little coffee shop with his wife, greeted the newcomer before telling her he’d be right with her.
“You guys wouldn’t happen to be hiring, would you?”
