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You can do this, Peyton.

I stare at the back of Roar from the comfort of my car. The aged brick more red than brown today. A fresh coat of paint over the club name adds an extra pop. Large string lights near the roofline already lit, although the sun doesn’t set for another two hours.

Parked two spaces to my right is Ani and Sean’s Tesla. Another space down is Micah’s truck. Both vehicles empty of passengers. Seeing both adds a new layer of nausea.

Get out of the car. Go inside.

“Ugh.” I grip my hands at ten and two on the steering wheel and rest my forehead at twelve. “Why is this eating at me?” What I wouldn’t give for a couple saltines right now.

Leaning back, I press my head into the rest and drop my hands. I take a few steadying breaths. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. When my pulse settles and the compulsion to vomit wanes, I step out of the car, shoulder my purse and head for the employee entrance.

On any other day, if I were to walk in Roar two hours before open, it would be quiet. A radio may be on, quiet in the background. But otherwise, the space would be still. Peaceful. The calm before the storm.

But today is a new day. And new days come with music at normal levels and the chatter of several close people. I stroll past the office, skipping the time clock or stashing my purse. When I enter the main area of the club, the space seems smaller. Claustrophobic. Restrictive. The walls inching closer to the tables.

All eyes shift my way as I step out from the hall. Smiles and waves and greetings I don’t hear beyond the white noise in my ears. I pinch the front of my shirt, pull it off my chest, then push it back rapidly, over and over.

Is it hot in here?

Ani pats Sean on the shoulder, then strolls over to me. “Peyton?” I hold her gaze. “You okay?”

I nod. “Just need some water.”

She shuffles me over to a stool and forces me to sit. “I’ll grab you some. Sit tight.”

Ani waltzes over to the bar as Micah takes her place at my side. Brows drawn together, he bends at the knees so we are eye to eye. For one, two, three breaths, he doesn’t speak. Then he reaches for my hand. His warm touch a partial balm to my anxiety.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He lifts a hand and lightly brushes my cheek with his knuckles. “If you need to go, they’ll understand.”

My eyes dart between his and memorize each gold fleck against their inky sky backdrop. Certain I may not see them this close again, I etch them into my mind to recall when I am alone.

“I’m fine,” I choke out as Ani approaches with water. “Just have a lot on my mind.”

Ani sets the glass on the table and winks before going back to Sean. She whispers in his ear—a signal the meeting is about to start. My stomach churns and I sip the water in the hopes it will settle.

“Want to talk—” Micah starts, but is cut off when Ani speaks up. He shifts to stand beside me. Hand on the back of my chair. Thumb absently drawing small circles between my spine and shoulder blade.

“Thank you all for coming in early or on your day off.” Ani and Sean flash bright white smiles to everyone. “We called this meeting to update you on new changes with Roar.” A mix of excitement and concern mar some of the faces in our group. Others remain impassive.

I grip the edges of the seat until pain shoots up my forearm. The next words out of Ani’s mouth will be the ones I have waited to hear for far too long. Words that will change everything. I relish and fear the change. But I won’t let anyone snuff out what I worked hard to achieve.

Not even Micah.

“First announcement… Roar has a new manager on staff.” Micah freezes beside me and Gina, two tables over, looks ready to puke. Right there with ya, girl. “Everyone, please join me in congratulating Peyton on her promotion.”

Applause and cheers erupt and echo throughout the room. But one clap stands out more than the rest. The one less than a foot from me. Slow and exaggerated and far from congratulatory. Each time his hands smack together, I twitch in my seat. Jump at the vibration of anger each strike sends my way.

This is exactly what I expected would happen. That Micah would go off the emotional deep end. Instead of smiles and hugs and overall happiness for what I achieved and earned, I had a feeling the opposite would happen. My assumptions weren’t wrong.

Without hurry, I peek to the right. Prepare myself for the sight that will undoubtedly make the pain beneath my rib cage worse. But no amount of preparation will ease the anger and hurt I see on Micah’s face.

His nostrils flare. Eyes cold and distant as he meets mine. A measured headshake full of disbelief. And then he breaks contact. Not just his eyes, but also the hand he’d had on the back of my chair. With each harsh breath I take, he takes a step away.

Asshole.

Fuck him. If me achieving success pisses him off, he can crawl in a hole and weep like a toddler. Alone. I will not lower myself so he feels better about himself. Fuck. That.

I sit up straighter, pick up my water, and sip it as Ani continues.

“Gina, we’ll be switching you to Tuesday through Friday. Micah, your days will remain the same. Starting next week, Peyton will work Monday through Thursday. We will also add three new bartenders, two servers and another doorman.” Light chatter kicks up, then dies down when Ani continues. “They will be arriving for introductions in a half hour. I wanted to give the original Roar team this moment before they joined us.”

Micah leans forward, his breath hot on my ear. “Can we talk later?” he growls.

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