Page 2 of Candy

I clamped my lips shut, embarrassed to admit that I was using a dating app. “Just around.”

“Well, maybe you should look in different places than your phone.” He looked at me pointedly, and I knew he knew I was using a dating app.

“I don’t have time to look for someone, Dad. I’m lucky I have enough time to swipe left or right.”

He shook his head. “I don’t understand young people. Back in my day, we met people while we were doing things. We weren’t attached to our phones and waiting for some computer program to determine that we were compatible.”

I rolled my eyes. “Dad, times have changed.”

He went to the fridge and inspected what I had brought him. “Guess I’m having chicken for dinner. Did you bring anything for lunch?”

“Yes, I bought you the salami and cheese that you like. You still have bread.”

“Do you want something before you go?” he asked, glancing back before he closed the door.

“Nope, sorry, I don’t have time.” I held up my phone. “That was my reminder that I need to be at the tavern in fifteen minutes.”

“Hope it goes well,” he commented as I smacked a loud kiss on his cheek.

“I’ll be interested to see who is buying it. I’ll give you a call later. Love you, Dad!” I called over my shoulder.

“Love you too, Hershey Kiss.”

I snickered as I made my way to my vehicle. My parents had a sense of humor when they named me Candy. People had commented on it my entire life. Many of them had said that I looked as sweet as the food, and the name was fitting. My father constantly called me a different kind when he saw me. Hershey Kiss was one of my favorites.

From him, it was cute. From anyone else, it was annoying as hell. My entire life, I had been the sweet sibling. The one who would bend over backward to help someone. I always kept my mouth shut and never complained. I volunteered to work with charitable organizations and got involved in many clubs at school.

Everyone in the family would tell you that I was the smartest of the bunch. It wasn’t that I was smarter. I just applied myself better.

Cara hated school and would have preferred to run around chasing boys and partying all the time. Ethan and Evan put all their energy into sports, girls, and studies came low on their list.

Carmen was intelligent, but in her sophomore year, she met Tim Kohl. If something didn’t revolve around Tim, then it wasn’t necessary. At least, not until they broke up the day after graduation, and then college became her focus to hide her broken heart.

That left Coral, the social butterfly of the high school. She didn't care to do it unless her schoolwork could get her something from someone. However, she did achieve decent grades. If she had applied herself, she could have rocked her grades out of the park and gotten an academic scholarship as I had.

I had received offers from nine colleges, and three had full rides because of my academic excellence. I attended the University of Michigan because they had one of the best civil engineering programs available. Some were better, but I wasn’t crazy about what they had to offer outside their classes. It didn’t hurt that U of M had offered a four-year, almost full scholarship. I paid for my books and meals, which was about it.

After six years, I was lucky to step out of college with a master’s in civil engineering and very little debt. I came back to Millerstown and found a great job. By the time I was twenty-six, I had paid off my last student loan and, a year later, bought my house.

I was employed by two companies, one that did home inspections for mortgages and loans and the other that did structural assessments on buildings in need of repair.

I loved what I did, and there were very few women in my field, especially in my county. I was only aware of two, a woman named Rhonda Brickwater and me. Most women got snapped up as minorities in large city firms, but I had no interest in leaving my small town. Ann Arbor, Michigan, had been plenty enough for me.

I pulled up to the tavern, parked, and collected my briefcase from the passenger seat floor. As I got out of my SUV, I glanced at my phone to see that I was right on time. Two cars were in the side lot, but the front door was locked when I tried to open it. I banged on the door and waited—then knocked again with no answer.

It was two hours before opening, per the sign on the door. They were probably in the kitchen working, so I made my way around. There was a door open at the back, and I was just stepping in front of it to call out when a box flew through the entry and smacked me right in the face.

“Oh, my God!” I screamed as my arms flew up to bat the offending cardboard away, but it was too late. The rough edge of the box had scratched my cheek, but when I reached up to check, there was no blood.

“Aw, shit! Did I just hit you?” A deep, rough voice spoke from the doorway, and I looked up to find Bollard standing there.

While I barely knew the man, I knew he had a checkered past. He ran with an outlaw motorcycle gang and worked behind the bar here at the tavern. I’d never said more than fifty words to the man; they consisted of drink names and thank you.

“Yes, you just hit me! Square in the face, I might add.” I brushed my hand over my cheek to ensure it wasn’t bleeding.

“Oh, man, I didn’t see you. Come on in. Let’s get you some ice.” While his voice appeared concerned, the look about him said he was anything but. If I had guessed, I would have said he looked pissed.

Bollard had brown eyes and brown hair that was down to his ears with light streaks of blond and one of those beards that looks like it is just growing in, but he purposely leaves it that way. I was not too fond of those kinds of beards. They were distracting.

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