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“Ally.” Her stomach roiled under a new surge of remorse, her blissful night with Dean coming back to haunt her. “You’re allowed to be more upset than I am. You’re more than an employee to Blaine. You’re honorary family.”
Ally’s lips pulled into a small smile before she finally took a first sip of her drink. “When do you think we’ll be able to visit him?”
“Not sure.” She nodded at a patron to her left, acknowledging their wave for another round. “If you like, I’ll call the hospital tomorrow and let you know how he’s doing.”
Ally eased back in her seat, and the lift in her posture indicated a lift in her mood.
Sarah jutted her chin toward Ally’s drink. “And those are on the house tonight too, okay?”
New and genuine laughter broke from Ally, her eyes taking on a sparkle that subdued a fraction of Sarah’s guilt. “You run Maynard’s like a well-oiled army. What’s with you giving away free stuff?”
Sarah squinted at her friend, her words a jest but still a reminder of Sarah’s reputation as the town’s stoic face of misfortune. “I could always revoke that offer.”
She slid her hand across the bar toward Ally’s drink. Ally pulled her glass closer, half hugging it to her chest. “No, but seriously, I’m glad you’re looking out for me.”
Sarah laughed and took her hand back.
“But”—Ally’s eyes lost some glint—“I’m a little embarrassed to admit I’m scared to go home. I know that sounds crazy, but I feel like someone might break into my house too. You know, like if it could happen to Emilia and Blaine, then maybe it could happen to us too?”
“Ally, you live with your parents, and as far as I know, you aren’t on the run from a possessive husband.” She slid a newly poured beer over to the patron from earlier, fixing Ally with a resolute stare. “Look, you have nothing to worry about. This was an isolated event, a personal vendetta, though you can stick around Maynard’s as long as you like. As long as you don’t mind me running around throughout the night.”
Ally’s gaze brightened, the strain in her cheeks releasing in seeming gratitude. “Thanks for keeping me company.”
Sarah smiled and she collected two plates sitting on the pass, plates that had been out longer than she preferred. She was meant to be managing the venue while assisting the bar staff, not serving meals. Though part of managing the venue meant noticing when one of her wait staff went missing. In this case, Jenna.
Sarah marched through the break in the bar, calling to Ally as she strode toward an elderly couple a few tables away. “I’ll serve out these meals and be right back.”
Through her darkening mood, she kept her expression light, darting her attention about in search of Jenna, likely doing something not in harmony with her job description.
Sarah plastered on a wide smile and lowered the plates to the elderly couple’s table. From their dressier clothes and unfamiliar faces, they stuck out as tourists, more and more of whom converged on Harlow during the warmer months. “How are you two finding Harlow?”
The woman’s gray eyes exuded joy, like every other visitor who tended to come to Harlow in search of a pleasant taste of small-town country life, without experiencing the pit-falls of actually living in one. “Oh, Harlow is so beautiful. The lovely farms and open pastures, the little stores and cafes. Just darling. You must love living here.”
“Sure do.” Sarah kept a cheery tone, masking her subtle lie. She didn’t hate living in Harlow exactly, but some things weren’t as rosy or voluntary as they appeared from the outside. For example, where a person lived or just how much they wished to share with those who lived within close proximity. “If you have any questions about the area, or things to do around here, come speak with me at the bar, all right?”
Two wrinkly smiles grew before her, and she gave the couple a confident nod goodbye. She turned back for the bar, her low-rise heels clicking on the battered wooden floors as she spotted Jenna amongst a small group of college-aged holiday makers.
Sarah sent forth a heated glare, and the thirty-year-old waitress with long brunette hair and large, brown eyes, shot from her seat on a holiday maker’s lap. With all the extra tourists from the soiree and town fair, plus the local folk converging on Maynard’s to gossip over Blaine’s near-death experience, Jenna picked a terrible night to slack off.
Sarah slid behind the bar and served more drinks, half-listening as Ally recounted the stress of managing Oak Tree Furniture without Blaine, only for the woman’s words to dry suddenly, followed by a breathy, “Oh. My. God.”
Sarah lifted her focus to a wide-eyed Ally proclaiming, “That has to be the most delicious man ever to set foot in Harlow.”
Sarah twisted around and followed Ally’s line of sight, instantly regretting she hadn’t let go of the bar’s beer tap the moment her attention snagged on a set of cobalt blue eyes.
A deluge of icy cold beer spilled over her fingers and instant sickness filled her belly. She let go of the tap and eased the glass in her hand to the rubber mat below.
Her no-strings-attached sex had just turned up at her workplace and strolled toward her and the bar, his all too casual, lopsided, and dimpled smile holding an air of recognition. As in, he didn’t care about letting the world know they’d met before.
Dean.
