Page 4 of Good Girls Beg

"That's a long time to wait." She flicked on the electric kettle and pulled out another cup and a couple of tea bags. "Or not so long if you keep working the way you are." She draped the string of a teabag over a cup and turned back to me. "Sorry, I don't mean to sound like your…" She trailed off, wincing.

"My mother," I finished for her, not angry in the least. How could I mourn a woman I didn't remember? "I appreciate your concern. I really do."

I honestly did. It was sweet of her to worry, but she didn't need to. Yes, I was working long hours trying to get my master's thesis done, but it was almost ready for submission. I only needed another eleven billion passes, then I'd be happy with it. Maybe.

She left the kettle to boil, pulled out a chair and sat beside me. "I know your dads appreciate everything you're doing for them too. All of this, it can't be easy. I mean, healthy competition is good, right? But setting up across the road from an established…" She stopped and thought for a moment. "Establishment." She shrugged with her eyebrows at her inability to think of a different word, and laughed.

The curse of someone who'd recently finished a college degree, always feeling the need to switch it up, even when talking. I couldn't judge, I did the same thing myself. Although, I was into my postgraduate degree and couldn't think of another word either. Frying your own brain was a thing.

"All's fair in love and bars, I guess," I said. "It was bound to happen sooner or later. Much later would have been nice, but it is what it is."

Someone was always going to put themselves in direct competition with my fathers’ bar. Maybe we all got complacent, because it hadn't happened until now. Loams wasn't the only place in town by any means, but it always held its own. The location and reputation, along with my fathers’ ability to make anyone feel at home made it the go-to place from lunchtime until after midnight, if you wanted to drink or dine.

The rent going up a couple of times? That was the real nail in the coffin. Or speed bump. That was a better analogy. I refused to admit the place was dead and gone until I saw my dads lock the door and walk away. While there was still some fight left in them, I'd keep fighting too.

"Have you been into the other place?" Lyra asked. "Into Nefarious?"

"No." I shook my head. “I’ve read the reviews, but never stepped foot in it." I didn't want to admit those reviews were glowing, for the most part. I’d yet to see one complaining about the lack of a drag night. Or even the lack of a view. They all said the place was immaculate and the drinks and food good and well priced. Was it wrong to hope they found a cockroach in their fries? Or a mouse tail in their beer?

"Have you?" I asked.

Her lips dropped apart. She sniffed and stared at me for a moment. "Theodora Solana Ward. Do you really think I'd frequent the opposition?”

"Lyra Margaret Henderson," I replied, mimicking her exaggerated sniff. "It's a free country. If you want to check out a new bar, no one's going to stop you. Unless, of course, the bouncer on the door doesn't like the look of you." As if that would happen.

Lyra was tall, slender with bright red hair and bright blue eyes. Freckles covered most of her face, including her lips, which were full and almost always tilted up in a smile. They'd have to be blind not to let her into the place. I was surprised she hadn't received a personal invitation yet.

Me, on the other hand, with my wild curls, brown eyes, and tendency to stand in the wrong place while cars roared past? They'd tell me I couldn't come in as a matter of health and safety.

Okay, I was joking. Mostly.

"I would never go anywhere but Loams," she said firmly. "Unless Loams was too far away, then I'd go somewhere else. On the other side of the street isn't far away enough to tempt me."

"I appreciate your loyalty to my fathers' business," I said. "Saltgrave Cove needs more people like you."

"And fewer people who actually go into Nefarious?" Lyra suggested.

I propped my elbow on the table and placed my head on my hand.

"I don't want them to fail," I said slowly. "Like you said, healthy competition is a good thing. But I wish their success didn't mean Loams has to fall on its ass. My earliest memories are of that place. I used to sit in the office and read or play while my dads worked. I'd help clean the tables after closing. Pick up glasses, help out in the kitchen. I learned how to flip a burger in there and cook fries."

I drew in a breath and let it out slowly through my nose.

"I don't know how many hours I've spent in the office doing homework. Sometimes I felt like I was there more than I was at home. I love the place."

Later, when I was old enough, I'd go for walks or swims on the beach, or sit on the sand and do my homework under an umbrella, the waves crashing a few feet away. As far as childhoods went, mine was pretty perfect. Of course I was remembering the good bits. There were bad days too, but I didn't want to dwell on those. I didn't care what anyone said, I thought having two fathers was wonderful. No one could ever convince me I was missing out on anything.

"Of course you do," Lyra said. "Everyone with a half a brain loves the place. I guess the owner of Nefarious didn't step inside before they decided to renovate the bar across the street. They would have fallen in love with Loams and decided to, I don't know, set up their bar somewhere else." She gestured vaguely.

"Then across the road, they could have built…" She tilted her head, gazing up toward the ceiling, her eyes glazed in thought. "A shop that sells adult toys. What would be more useful than a dildo shop?"

"I can't think of a thing," I said with a laugh. "I could totally get behind a dildo shop."

Except my fathers would probably buy all my Christmas and birthday presents there. I wasn't sure how I felt about that. On one hand, I was glad they supported my exploration of my sexuality. On the other hand, that wasn't something I needed them to think about. And very much vice versa.

Lyra snapped her fingers. "When Nefarious closes, we could take over the site and reincarnate it into a dildo shop. I can see us now, side by side, selling vibrators to the horny women of Saltgrave."

"Now there's a store name for you," I said dryly, "The Horny Women of Saltgrave."