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Matt wiped the foam at the corner of his mouth and shrugged. He’d been planning on it but he had Rosie to deal with, and he wasn’t so sure that situation was going to work itself out in time.
“Not sure yet,” he replied, reaching for the basket of popcorn Duke Everett had placed on the bar.
The bar owner huffed. “We need you there for indoor volleyball. Not to mention the hockey game. They’re bringing in some big guns and I don’t like to lose to a bunch of Hollywood pansies and spoiled athletes.”
“Better not let Betty hear you talking like that, Duke. Her husband is one of those Hollywood-type pansies.”
“Bah,” Duke barked. “Beau’s all right. Besides. He won’t be here.” Duke’s eyebrow shot up. “Or will he? You know something I don’t? Did he come to town with Betty?”
“Betty doesn’t fly in until tomorrow, but no, she’s coming alone. Beau’s stuck filming in New Orleans for at least another week. Not sure why, but it had to have been important to keep him away.”
“I know the fundraiser means a lot to the girls.” Duke had a soft spot for the Barker triplets, not surprising, most in town did. The big guy tugged on the edge of his mustache. “How’s Trent doing by the way?”
Matt sighed. “Not good.”
Betty Jo Barker meant the world to Matt. She’d been there for him when no one else had—when everyone in New Waterford had written him off. She’d been there and seen him at his worst, and Matt knew that if not for Betty Jo Barker he’d be six feet under with no one to leave flowers at his grave.
He’d do anything for her, and it killed him to know there was nothing he could do for her father. The man had been battling Alzheimer’s for years now and his immediate future looked grim.
Why was it always the good guys?
Duke shook his head. “Damn shame that is.” He tossed his towel and grabbed another mug. Placing it under the spout, he began to pour a draft. “I think that’s Josh Hayden over there.”
Matt grunted but didn’t turn around to look. He didn’t give a crap. Seemed like these days he didn’t give a crap about anything. He eyed the half empty mug of beer in front of him and sighed. Even the beer tasted like crap.
“That there the Simon girl with him?”
Matt’s head shot up so fast he saw stars, and blinking he turned around. Grace Simon? He squinted and…there she was. Sitting in a booth with…yep that was definitely Hayden, a guy with a reputation for partying, trouble, and women.
What the hell? Why hadn’t Betty told him?
Scowling, Matt snapped up his mug of beer and turned back to the bar.
“Something up?” Duke asked.
“Nope.”
“Could have fooled me.”
“Mind your own business, Everett.”
Duke’s face darkened and he leaned in close. “This bar is my business, and that there look on your face is one I’ve seen before. Usually before the shit starts to hit the fan. So I’m warning you, Hawkins. Keep things even keel or you’re out of here.”
The woman he’d come in with, Sasha, sidled up to the bar and plopped her butt on the stool beside him. She was nice enough but already Matt regretted bringing her back here. If he was on his game, he would have taken her number and left it at that. She was just another complication he could do without.
His cell phone pinged and he grabbed it out of his pocket. Betty.
“I gotta take this,” he said to Sasha, moving toward the kitchen area where the music wasn’t so loud.
“Where are you?” Betty sounded out of breath, more than a little stressed, and he was guessing her crying toddler had something to do with it.
“At the Grill. What’s up with Fitz?” Betty and Beau’s son was named after her father Trent, but from early on he’d been called Fitz. No one remembered who started it, but the name had stuck.
“Oh my God, Matt. Fitz is pissed—“
“Shouldn’t swear in front of the kid.”
“Shit. I know.” A pause. “Dammit.”
