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“Semantics.” I wave my hand and pick up my glass. “A boat. I feel sick thinking about it.”
“So tell him,” she says with a ‘duh’ face.
“No! He already paid for it and stuff. How awful would that make me?”
“Not as awful as you’d be vomiting everywhere with seasickness.”
My stomach turns. “Ugh. Don’t!”
“Don’t what?” Tyler asks, sitting on the chair next to me.
“Nothing.” I smile.
“So, Liv.” Aaron rests his elbows on the table. “Have you thought any more about my offer?”
The bar. The managing. The…responsibility. No, I want to say. I haven’t thought at all—but I’m quickly thinking that thinking stuff over is overrated.
“I’ll do it.”
Everyone stops.
Seriously? Is it that much of a shock? Wait.
Did I just agree to run a motherfucking bar? Holy crap. I did.
Their shock is justified.
“You will?” Aaron half-grins. “Really?”
“Why not?” I down my wine. Whyfuckingnotindeed. “I’m up for a challenge.”
Tyler squeezes my thigh under the table.
“Fantastic.” Aaron’s grin spreads across his face. “We’ll talk when we get back. We’ll go down there and run over everything.”
“Perfect. Why not?” I pour another glass of wine.
Wow. That was impulsive, even for me.
“Liv? Are you sure?” Dayton questions.
I close my eyes briefly before looking into hers. “I didn’t think about it before. That right there was an impulsive decision. I thrive off impulse. I have nothing to lose. Not really.”
Nope. Nothing to lose but a job. Good going, Liv.
“You’ll do well working for me.” Aaron sips his whisky. “Split-second decisions make success, not piss-assing around until you’re sure.”
“There we go, then. I’m already an asset.” I snort then turn to Dayton. “Your dress fitting is tomorrow, right?”
She nods. “At eleven. Are you coming with me?”
“Are you shitting me? Of course I’m coming with you, you idiot. I want to see this beauty!”
“She could turn up in a garbage bag and I’d still marry her,” Aaron says quietly, leaning over to kiss her.
Tyler slides his arm around my waist. “Are you ready to go? Leave the lovebirds to it.”
I nod, finishing the rest of my wine. Thank fuck there’s food to come—three glasses on an empty stomach probably isn’t the smartest idea of my lifetime.
