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If we were anywhere else, I’d be worried about Mali going after her, but she knows better than that here.
“That’sMiss Bitchto you. Seniority, asshole.”
Yeah, at some point they’re going to end up going at it.
AS I GO OUTSIDEfor a smoke break, I look at the bike Finn was admiring earlier. He’s right—it is beautiful. It was an impulse buy after Laiken left—my own version of extreme retail therapy, if you want to call it that. I emptied my account and dropped it all on this babe of a motorcycle.
The deep red paint sparkles in the sunlight, and the exhaust purrs as I start her up. Mali accused me of chasing the adrenaline I felt when I was still with Laiken, and in a way, she wasn’t wrong. This bike gave me the rush I was missing, and sometimes it still does, but not nearly enough anymore.
When it comes down to it, I could use the money more than I use the bike. It was fun for a while. And I enjoyed the wholebiker dudepersona that matched effortlessly with owning a bar. But sacrifices need to be made.
And if I get enough for it, I can catch up some of the bills for the bar before Cam even knows there’s a problem.
THERE’S SOMETHING TO BEsaid about figuring out a potential solution to your problems. It has a way of boosting your mood and making you feel like everything might not be going to shit after all. It’s not enough to rid me of all my problems, or even enough to make me not crave a drink, but it’s something, and I will take everything I can get at this point.
The bar starts to pick up as the sun starts to set. Beachgoers filter in the door, ready to start their Saturday night. There’s a DJ setting up his stuff on the small stage we built in the corner, and Cam lights the fire outside for people to sit around. But while I love all my customers, there’s always one that’s difficult.
“H,” Mali says. “What the fuck is the Wi-Fi password?”
What? “How the hell would I know?”
She shrugs. “Bookish Barbie over there wants to do a last minute assignment on her computer and needs the Wi-Fi password, and you apparently advertise free Wi-Fi on your website.”
“We have a website?” I chuckle. “For the love of fuck, who does work in a bar anyway?”
Mali laughs and walks away, leaving me to deal with it. I turn around just in time to see Cam walking toward me.
“Hey, do you know the Wi-Fi password?”
His brows furrow. “No, why?”
I nod to the girl with her face in the computer over in the back corner. “She needs it, and our website promises free Wi-Fi. Did you know we have a website?”
He rolls his eyes. “This place would crumble without me. It’s upstairs. I’ll go get it.”
“Thanks.”
Riley, Mali, and I manage the bar in the meantime, dealing with the “sunset rush,” as we call it. Though, with three of us, it’s not too hard. Mali manages to notaccidentallytrip Riley, and Riley keeps all her nagging comments about Mali being behind the bar to herself. But when the girl from the back corner comes up, once again asking for the Wi-Fi password, I realize Cam’s been gone for over a half hour.
“Mal, have you seen Cam?” She shakes her head. “Riley?”
But she hasn’t seen him either.
I pass the beer to the guy waiting and head upstairs, wondering if he got stuck looking for the password or something, but the result is so much worse. He’s standing in front of my desk, with the bottom drawer open and all the past due bills spread out across the top.
Motherfucker.“Cam, I can explain. Hear me out.”
He looks mortified. “Dude!”
This is not how I saw this shit going. Well, that’s not true. I didn’t picture how it would go at all, because I finally came up with a solution.
“I know! I’m going to fix it,” I tell him. “I’m selling my bike and—”
“Your bike?” he says in disbelief. “H, there’s over fifty grand in fucking bills here!”
Jesus. I never added it all up. I was too afraid the number would only increase my anxiety and look at that—I was right.
“How the hell did shit get so behind?” he snaps. “We were doing well! We should be in the black! Do you know how many bars don’t go into the black until five years in? How the fuck are we in the red?”
