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My stupid complexion betrayed me again. The blush on my face must have been at least a three-alarm fire for Lara to see in the dimly lit bar. I looked at my reflection in the old, smoky mirror draped with fairy lights behind the array of liquor bottles on the back bar.
Oh yes, three alarms, for sure.
Damn Wilson Phillips for making me a liar.
“It doesn’t matter. One, he is a client.” I enunciated the wordclientslowly, as if I were trying to sound it out for a spelling bee. “Two, he is Mr. Unattainable, remember? If the LA glamazons can’t change his mind, why would I even think about it? I’m a forty-two-year-old single mom. I have eye wrinkles, way more than three percent body fat, and after my salon trip to get ready for the TV show, I’ve learned I’m sprouting gray hair.”
“Um, you remember that you’re an actual beauty queen, right?” Lara twisted the tip of her long brown braid around a finger.
“Oh, I’m well aware of myformerbeauty queen status. It’s been like twenty years since I had to do all this shit.“ I waved my fake nails at the fake eyelashes on my overly-made-up face.
The problem wasn’t that I disliked makeup or pretty clothes, but that I’d become a minimalist in the fashion department over the years. My basic routine: the five-minute face was what the beauty salesperson called it. Took less than five minutes. Jeans with cute blouses were all I ever needed in Elmer—no high heels or swishy skirts.
Rediscovering my pageant queen-esque look was a little bittersweet. Pageant me had a whole life ahead of her. I’d been a recent college grad with a husband and a new baby. When the accident happened, all my focus shifted to raising my daughter. Beauty was only skin deep.
“You do look great. Wait until Bailey sees you!” Lara gave me a thorough once-over, inspecting my TV-ready look.
“I know she will die.” Thinking of my daughter’s reaction, a big smile spread over my face, chasing away my maudlin thoughts. “She is at that age where makeup and fashion are fun. Last night, she was watching an online video about contouring makeup. The before-and-after images were out of this world. I’m glad that wasn’t a thing when I was doing pageants.”
“She showed me a few of those last time she babysat for Tyler. It was baffling.”
“How is the big man?” I asked.
“Awesome and opinionated. He told me that Bailey is the only sitter he likes because she doesn’t treat him like a baby. All grown up at eleven.” She sighed, and I remembered well the exhaustion conveyed in that sound. Being a single mom was hard.
“Bailey loves Tyler. And the extra babysitting cash for college.”
“You know your daughter is the best, right?”
“Well, you helped me raise her. So, you get partial credit for making her a fully functioning adult.” We shared a fist bump of solidarity. Single moms had to band together.
Lara was a few years younger than me. And while she remembered me from high school as the prom queen she’d idolized, I only got to know her after Brian’s accident. She was the first person I felt comfortable leaving Bailey with that summer who wasn’t family. Lara had been home from college and looking for a part-time job. Bailey and I had been grateful to have her. She’d been a ray of sunshine during the darkest period of my life. That Bailey was now helping with Tyler made my heart happy.
We were a found family, the four of us.
“Tyler is going to miss her when she leaves for school.”
“Me too.” I blinked, fighting the sting of sudden tears. My baby was leaving, and I was so proud, but ugh. It was killing me.
Lara and I shared a sad smile.
When her gaze shifted from mine, and her sweet expression soured, I knew who’d arrived at The Pub without looking. I turned in my barstool to welcome my brother Colton. He was the only person who got under Lara’s skin just by breathing.
Colton looked like his normal off-duty self. Worn Wranglers, scuffed boots, a faded University of Texas shirt. His salt-and-pepper gray hair was still wet from the shower. I checked the time, and it was only a few minutes past five; the sheriff must have hauled ass over here after his shift.
“Just leave Chuck alone. He’s going to bite you,” Lara snapped at Colton, who was unsuccessfully trying to pet the mean-as-hell tabby cat that called The Pub home.
“Nah, he loves me. Ouch!” My brother jerked his hand away, and the cat sprawled in the middle of the foosball table, licking its claws and savoring the taste of his victim’s blood.
“Do you never learn? How many times has Chuck taken a chunk out of you?” Lara came from behind the bar to scold Colton, her fist on her hip, a bar towel dangling from her grip.
My brother may not have realized it, but he stared at Lara’s bare legs like they were the Mona Lisa as he sucked his injured finger.
Freud would have a field day with these two.
I leaned back and enjoyed the show as they traded barbs. They had been bickering for years. Grandma and I had a running bet. My ten bucks said they would end up together before Tyler graduated high school. Grandma thought they were too slow-witted, and it would take them even longer to figure it out. Watching them trade barbs about my brother’s stupidity, I decided Grandma might be right.
“Can I have my beer, please?” he gritted out and finally took a seat next to me. “Hey, sister... whoa! What is on your face?”
