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It was her vulnerability that called to me, but it’s that same delicateness that means I need to stay away. Charlie’s words sting, but only because she’s right. I’m not ready for a serious relationship. I need to focus on my career. That takes one hundred percent of my attention. Being a family man? It doesn’t fit into the picture I’ve in my mind.
With a deep exhale, I get to my feet and toss a large bill on the table. Charlie is about to object, but I put a hand over hers. “Let me at least do this.”
Because I can’t do anything more.
Chapter Four
Lainey
After two months of work, I’ve settled into a routine. I avoid Chip. It’s fairly easy as he doesn’t come into Stacks much anymore. A former Mustang opened a bar in Uptown and the players go there to do a lot of team celebrations. The few times Chip does show his face around here, he ignores me. I get the message. He wants to continue to pretend we are complete strangers and I’m perfectly fine with that.
A couple days after I started working at Stacks, I found my stuff near the dumpster out back. I’m not sure if Chip meant to throw it away or placed it by the trash because he knew I’d find it there as I’m the one that usually takes out the garbage. In the end, it doesn’t matter. I have my things back and I didn’t need to get on my knees to beg for it. That’s a win in my book.
Work isn’t terrible. Cronett, the owner doesn’t do anything but stare at my boobs, but the regulars are decent. Don, a single older man with a bushy Santa beard and a penchant for loud, expensive cowboy boots, comes in every night for a beer and a burger. I looked his boots up online once and nearly choked at the cost. Three middle aged guys wearing polos with a Mustang emblem embroidered over the breast pocket stop in to shoot pool on Thursdays. A few of the secretarial staff will gulp down a Bloody Mary, extra olives and hold the celery, after work on Fridays.
Then there are my favorites–Nick Jackson and his girlfriend, Charlotte Randolph. Those two come in every week, order everything on the menu, only eat about a quarter of it and then leave, with a hundred-dollar bill on the table as my tip.
Charlotte, a gorgeous blonde, told me one day that we were going to be “best friends.”
“Why?” I asked because there’s no way a woman this pretty and this polished doesn’t have a dozen other pretty girls to hang out with on a regular basis.
Her answer surprised me. “Because you’re alone and I’m alone and we women need to stick together.”
Charlotte had moved down with Nick from Chicago. She didn’t have a job, but apparently, she didn’t need one. I’d be jealous, but Charlie’s too nice. You’d have to be the Grinch’s ugly stepsister to hate a person like Charlie. She’s kind when she could be snobby. She’s generous when she doesn’t have to be. Ever since she found out I have a kid, she’s been bringing in small toys.
They’re just cheap enough that I feel small turning them away, especially when Charlie goes into one of her elaborate stories about how she picked it up.
“I was down at the Dallas Farmer’s Market and there was this family who were selling these handmaid toys. Isn’t this frog adorable? I guess the grandma makes these patterns and the entire family, even the teenage boy, knit them. I bought one of each.”
“Our place is being overtaken by knitted farm animals. Please say you’ll take one. I tripped over a cow on the way to the bathroom last night and nearly dislocated my shoulder,” Nick adds.
I pick up the cute stuffed animal and tuck it into my apron. “Cassidy will love this.”
“I have others where those came from,” Charlie offers.
“I think one’s enough.” These two do too much for me. “I’ll go and put him with my purse so I don’t get him dirty.”
When I come back, Charlie’s at the table alone. My eyes drift to the empty seat. It’s none of your business, I tell myself. Nick’s taken, and even if he wasn’t, it would still not be any of your business. Nick’s a customer, no matter what your dreams want to tell you. After giving myself a small but necessary scold, I pick up the pitcher of beer and go fill Charlie’s empty glass. It’s something I keep needing to remind myself because if I don’t, I start conjuring up images of me in the chair beside Nick instead of sweet Charlotte.
“Nick went to meet some of the guys,” Charlie informs me as if she can read my mind. “Some team building thing.”
