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There’s a mirror hanging on the back of the bar, and I look up at it to see John nod his head. “So far, so good.”
Travis nods, almost looking a little let-down.
Tom finishes his Miller Lite and sets the can on the edge of the bar. I quickly grab another, open it, and set it in front of him.
He smiles and hands over a few bucks. “Thank you, young lady.”
I smile as I take his empty can. “You’re welcome. Thank you for the tip.”
Travis’s head spins around. “You tipped her?”
I freeze.
Tom smiles and shrugs. “She’s prettier than you are.”
I laugh as I move over to the register. Once all the men have fresh drinks, I focus on cleaning up around the bar. As I sweep, I can’t help but watch Travis as he talks and laughs with the patrons. His laughter is infectious, and even though I can tell he’s enjoying himself, there’s something about him that seems lonely; sad, even. But how can that be? I mean, I know he doesn’t have any kids yet, but he is married. Maybe the marriage isn’t so good. Why hasn’t Evie mentioned anything about her brother? We’re always good about giving up details on what’s going on in our lives, but it seems like she hasn’t mentioned Travis in years.
I look over at him as his hands rest on the bar. He isn’t wearing a wedding ring, but I remember him getting married. They were engaged my senior year of high school, and they got married soon after I left town. I remember listening to Evie talk about the wedding. But now that he isn’t wearing a ring, I wonder if he’s divorced. I try to think back on the woman he married, but for the life of me, I can’t remember her name. It’s been so long, and we aren’t close in age, so we didn’t go to school together. All I remember was that she was the prom queen and head cheerleader. She was the rich, popular, beautiful type. I know it isn’t appropriate to ask, so I pull my eyes away and force the thought from my head as I get to work on dusting, cleaning, and sweeping up behind the bar.
4
TRAVIS
It seems like Riley is doing a good job so far, and I can’t describe how much I hate it. She seems to have figured out the register rather quickly. She’s learning where all the beer is and is making sure everyone is served in a reasonable amount of time. She isn’t standing behind the bar, playing with her phone like most do. She’s using her time by dusting and cleaning. She even seems to get along with our regulars, and the guys have nothing but good things to say about her.
I’ll admit, I was hoping she’d fall on her face so I could fire her and not have to deal with her every day, but that doesn’t seem to be happening. She’s thriving and every time she looks at me, I’m not sure if I want to pull her in for a kiss or push her ass outside of my bar.
“Thank you, honey,” Tom says when she pours him a bowl of peanuts to go with his beer. “You’ve never done this before?”
She smiles wide. “Nope. It’s my first time. I’m lucky you guys are so gentle with me.”
I roll my eyes while all the dirty old men laugh and play into her hand.
“I’m always gentle, darlin’,” Tom replies, winking at her.
She smiles. “So, are you all retired?”
They all nod, going down the line with each of them telling her about the career they retired from.
“And what do your wives think about you sitting in a bar all day?”
Tom laughs. “Hell, my wife can’t get me out of the house fast enough.”
“Surely that’s not true,” Riley argues.
Tom nods. “Scout’s honor.” He raises his brows. “I worked hard for years, and she got used to being the only one in the house. Now that I’m retired, she’s having a hard time with not having all the alone time she used to. She’ll sit on the couch, read a book, and gripe about how I’m too loud with my nap.” He laughs and everyone joins in.
“You snore, huh?” Riley asks with a wide smile.
He’s still chuckling as he says, “I guess.” He shakes his head and then takes a sip of his beer.
I push myself away from the bar and head back to my office, content now that I see she can handle herself. Plus, John is still watching and helping if she needs it. I’ve just sat behind my desk when my cell rings. I pull it from my pocket and see my sister’s name.
“Hello?”
“Well?”
“Well, what?” I ask.
