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“Fix it,” he sneers. “You fucked up my drink. I wanted a rum and Coke. That’s not what you made.”
Before I can react, Dale is lifting the guy by the back of his shirt and shoves him toward the door.
“Get out of my fucking bar, asshole,” he says.
“But I paid for the drink already,” the guy protests.
“I guess you should have thought about that before you treated one of my waitresses like shit. Fuck off,” Dale says. For a second, I think the guy is going to protest again, but Kyle comes over and crosses his arms over his chest in a silent threat. Dale is big, but you’d have to be fucking insane to try double-crossing Kyle. He’s not the kind of guy you mess with.
Ever.
“Yeah, okay,” the guy grumbles, and he heads out the door. The guys who were with him also file out, leaving half-finished drinks behind.
Deep breaths, I tell myself.
You’ve been through worse than this. You can do this.
I move to start cleaning up the drinks, but Dale stops me.
“Come with me,” he murmurs. He takes my arm and guides me over to the break room. He pushes open the door and we both go inside.
I run my hands up and down my arms, shivering a little.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” I wave him off.
“No, Oriana, I mean it. Are you okay? It’s fine if you aren’t okay, Oriana. You don’t have to be strong. Not right now. Not here. Not with me. Okay? That guy was a dick, but we’ll never let him back inside.”
“I know,” I nod, but really, I’m just thinking about how wet I am. I’m seriously fucking soaked, and this is not how I wanted the night to end. It’s almost midnight, and tonight was supposed to be the ending to a terrible year and the start of a fresh one. It was supposed to signify me moving on with my life after Bobby.
It was supposed to be my shot at finding something real, something true, something completely mine.
But I’m wet.
I’m soaked, and I smell like alcohol, and I’m standing in a break room with my boss and he looks so completely concerned for me that I can’t handle it.
“I’m okay,” I say again. Really, I’m just hoping he’ll leave so I can crumble and cry alone. I’m ready to break down. I’m ready to shed the tears that have been threatening to fall since my brother died.
I haven’t cried.
I haven’t cried in weeks.
Not since it happened.
Not since before.
The 10-second countdown begins. I can hear the rest of the bar shouting, and I realize that we’re missing it. We’re missing New Year’s. We’re missing the start of something wonderful.
“I’m okay,” I whisper, but I’ve underestimated Dale. For a second, I think he’s going to leave, to hurry back to the crowd that waits in the main room of the bar, but he doesn’t.
He steps forward instead and he reaches for me.
“Happy New Year, Oriana,” he murmurs, and then Dale lowers his lips to mine, and he kisses me like we’re the last two people on Earth.
Chapter Five
Dale
