Sex & Sours Page 27

Rationally, I knew that. I did. But it was a risk I wasn’t sure I was willing to take.

  “Jordan offered her a job. In New York.”

  “Has she accepted?”

  “I don’t think so. Not yet.”

  “Then, you still have time to figure it out.”

  “Figure out what?”

  “I love you, but you’re an idiot.”

  44

  Sam

  Waking early the next morning, I was halfway to the kitchen when I heard Imogen softly singing, accompanied by spurts of giggles. Following the sounds, I found my sister-in-law lounging on the floor of the baby’s room, Gracie lying on a brightly colored mat before her, waving her hands and laughing excitedly.

  “Morning, I hope we didn’t wake you.”

  I leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Not at all.” Taking a seat beside her, I looked down, halting when I locked eyes on Gracie. Deep pools of royal blue stared back at me in wonder, and I was helpless to do anything but look back.

  What did she see, apart from a wary, confused man?

  Then, slow and sparkling, she smiled, and my own smile followed. Warmth flared in my chest.

  “She likes you.”

  Tentatively, I reached out, and Gracie’s miniature hand grasped onto my index finger. I knew then that I’d tear walls down for her. “She’s adorable.”

  “We think she’s pretty special.” Imogen tickled Gracie’s stomach, resulting in more giggles. “You’re our precious little penguin, aren’t you?” Catching my curious look, Imogen explained, “It’s an old nickname my pop had for me.”

  “It’s very sweet.” Mental note: I’d have to order some penguin toys later.

  We sat together, watching Gracie as she rolled over onto her stomach, tapping her hands and feet on the mat joyfully. Imogen kept her eyes trained on the baby as she said, “Harry mentioned the shutdown to me last night. I can’t believe it.”

  “Neither can I.”

  “What’s next? What do you do in these situations?”

  “I have a lawyer looking into it. He’s confident we can re-open after the week is up, and then it’s a matter of having the permit confirmed as valid. He’s going to handle all the details. There’s not much more I can do, unfortunately.”

  “I’m sorry.” Gracie started to cry softly in frustration, so Imogen helped her roll back over, picking up a fluffy gray rabbit and passing it to her. I recognized it as part of the gift I had sent them when they had announced the pregnancy. “Your uncle gave you this. Say ‘thank you, Uncle Sam’.” She wiggled the toy at Gracie, who squealed in delight. Imogen turned to me. “I know it’s not the best circumstances, but it’s really nice having you here. And I don’t just mean this morning.”

  Nodding in understanding, I said, “I know. It’s good to be home.”

  Harry was kind enough to drop me back at the bar a short while later in exchange for me returning that night. It was sweet, something I hadn’t experienced from my brother in a long time, and I enjoyed getting the added time with him.

  I’d already given the staff the bad news, telling them that we’d be closed for the week but that I’d make sure their wages were paid for any shifts they had been scheduled for.

  When I arrived to find the bar door unlocked, I panicked—had it been unlocked all night? No. I specifically remember locking it before I’d left. But the panic quickly dissipated when I walked in to find Devon, Jade, and a few others in the middle of various tasks.

  Devon directed two others to clear out any of the fresh produce that wouldn’t last through the closure. We arranged to donate it to a local food bank. “Easy done, boss,” Nathan said when I’d asked.

  Devon and Jade were taking inventory, checking the back bar and speed racks. “We wanted to make sure we’re ready to go when we open up again next week.”

  “That’s great. Thank you,” I said, a little choked up.

  My chest swelled with pride. This is why I loved my job. Why I’d kept at it for as long as I had. The opportunity to work with good people. Knowing that they had voluntarily given up their own time to be here, to help, it meant more than I could say.

  Not wanting to stew in my thoughts after the team cleared out, I met up with Jordan at his hotel, enjoying a room-serviced espresso in his suite.

  “Maybe I should cut my losses and head over to Manhattan with you.” I was equally joking and not.

  “Running away was never your style before.”

  “What do you call this, then?” I asked, gesturing to the view of Chicago.

  “That wasn’t running away. You got blindsided in a bad situation and came home to get a fresh start. That’s different.”

  “No, that’s the PR line.”

  “Then, what is the truth?”

  I stared out the window at the city, considering. “That I wanted to be somewhere that didn’t remind me of my mistakes. Somewhere I could forget Piper and how naïve I’d been.”

  “You could have done that anywhere. Why here?”

  “Because it’s home.”

  “I’m leaving tomorrow,” he said abruptly. “Have to head back to NYC and finalize the last of the details before opening.”

  I nodded, silent. I’d known he wouldn’t be in town for long but was still sad he had to leave. Having him here had bolstered my confidence. Reminded me that I had once been fearless. It felt so long ago now.

  He straightened. “Can I say something you won’t like?”

  “I’m an idiot.”

  “Oh, you already knew that? Ok. In that case, I’ll let you in on a little secret. Kind of an inside tip.” He leaned in. “Us self-sufficient types can sometimes be the worst at sharing our feelings.”

  I shook my head. “Normally, I would agree with you, but you don’t know her. There’s no holding back with her. I’ve never known her not to say what she’s thinking. Trust me, if she felt something, she would have told me.”

  He didn’t look convinced. “Just be careful. If she’s even half as clever as you’ve said she is, she’s learned how to hide behind a smile. Don’t let that fool you into thinking you can’t hurt her.”

  Sighing, I rubbed at my face. Could Jordan be right? I’d seen Tiffany upset before when she’d broken up with her ex, and even then, she’d handled it gracefully. I’d watched as she’d picked herself up from that and kept going, never letting it interfere with her work. And they’d been dating. I didn’t even know how to name what we’d been doing, beyond a mix of flirting, fighting, and fucking.

  No. That was too cheap a way to describe it, and I knew it. In reality, we’d spent almost all of our waking (and some of our sleeping) time together in the last few weeks, and despite whatever reservations I had about crossing that line, I had enjoyed every second of it. I’d legitimately forgotten how much I enjoyed rising to a challenge, and there was no one more capable of challenging me than Tiffany. She was a competitor and cheerleader, all in one.

  “I don’t want to hurt her. If I could, I’d tell her that I don’t want her to leave. That I can’t think of anyone else I want to be with. But,” my breath left me in one go, “I don’t trust it.”

  “Why don’t you give it a chance?”

  “I don’t take chances. I take calculated risks, but not chances.”

  “Love shouldn’t be calculated.”

  “I don’t know that that’s what this is.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “Maybe I’ve done the math and worked out that this isn’t a risk I’m willing to take.”

  “Then, you’re more stubborn than I thought. And you’d be missing out on something worthwhile. Which I know for a fact you never like to do.”

  “It’s too soon. Piper and I—”

  “I don’t know much about Tiffany, but from what I’ve seen, I find it hard to imagine she’s anything like Piper.”

  “She’s not. But I’m,” the word sat like ash on my tongue. I forced it out, “afraid.”

  “That’s not a bad thing, my friend. Th
e Sam Cooper I knew didn’t let that stop him, either. Look. No one can guarantee forever. We know that better than most. But even if you seem to have forgotten, I know what you’re capable of. And just because you made a mistake with Piper doesn’t mean you’re going to make the same mistake again. It also doesn’t mean that you can pretend you can do this alone. You need people in your corner, Sam, people you can trust. Some might be in it for selfish reasons, but not all of them will be.”

  I thought about Tiffany helping me even after she’d quit, giving up her favor with Diego so that I could kiss Pierce’s ass, and so much more. She’d proven time and again that she would help without needing anything in return.

  “Piper might have walked away with the last four years of your life, but don’t let her rob you of the rest of it.”

  He was right. I’d let my guilt consume me, attaching my fears to Tiffany when I could have easily seen that she was nothing like Piper. She’d never shown any interest in taking over. She’d only ever wanted to work with me. And I’d fought her almost every step of the way. Keeping my distance, putting a wall up, pretending that she hadn’t already won me over the first time she stalked into my office.

  Had she ever shown anything except generosity and loyalty and selflessness? Tiffany gave everything to this bar. To my brother. To the staff. To me.

  Because she cared.

  My head fell into my hands. “Fuck. I’m an idiot.”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

  45

  Sam

  Even though we’d only been away for two nights, Luna made short work of re-marking her territory the next morning.

  As nice as it had been to spend time with Harry, Imogen, and the baby, I was glad to be back. There was still plenty to do, and I didn’t want to waste any time. I left Luna to her wandering and put the coffee pot on, settling in at the kitchen counter to start a list.

  order stock to top up inventory

  confirm staff schedule with Devon

  Talk to Tiffany

  The last one got underlined. Twice.

  I had no idea what I would say beyond “I’m sorry” and “I love you,” but I reasoned they were a good place to start.

  * * *

  When our usual opening time rolled around later that evening, I wasn’t surprised to hear the knock on the door. Though Devon had updated our social media sites with the news of the closure, I knew news could slip through the cracks.

  But it wasn’t a confused customer at the door. Instead, it was Tiffany’s friend Quinn, dressed in a flattering jumpsuit that accentuated her height. Her face was buried in her phone but snapped up at the sound of the door opening.

  “A little birdy sent me this.” She turned her phone around, where the tribute interview was open. “I don’t know what I was expecting from you, Sam, but you and Tiff are two of the gutsiest sons of bitches I’ve ever known. You know you just killed whatever goodwill you had with Pierce, right? Of course, you do. You’re not an idiot. Anyway, I think we can help each other out.” She moved confidently into the bar, and I marveled at the similarity to Tiffany. There was a lack of airs about her, and it made me warm to her instantly.

  “Oh?” I locked the door and followed after her.

  “Absolutely. You’re not the only one, you know. There are a lot of us who are sick of the Pierce’s of the world holding their influence over our heads. We’ve been talking about a mutually beneficial arrangement, a coalition, to get around him. I wasn’t sure you’d be interested, but after reading this, I’ve changed my mind.” Without waiting for a response, she took a seat at the bar, swiveling the chair around to face me. “Sorry to hear about the permit situation, by the way. If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”

  I took a seat beside her. “Tell me more about this coalition.”

  “It’s not only bar owners. We’re cafés, restaurants, retailers, all small businesses really, across town, and the idea is to get enough of us on board that we can pretty much support each other, try our best to keep our businesses alive, give new startups the best chance possible. Where we can, we supply to each other, cross-promote, mentor each other. Right now, it feels more like an all-hours support group.” She laughed.

  “It’s not gonna be foolproof, but it’s nice to know you’re not out here alone, you know? That when you’re faced with a problem, there are people around, people who are in the same position, and who care, that you can talk to about it. That could maybe help with it. Silly idea in this day and age.”

  “But a noble one.”

  “Most businesses fail, and we’re all just out here trying our best. It’s utter bullshit not to help, in my opinion. Where one succeeds, we all do. All that jazz.”

  And there was something in that. A thread, itching under my skin. That coming together, working together, wasn’t a result of giving something up but rather pooling resources together. It bubbled up alongside a jerk reaction of cynicism. I was once that naïve, believing wholeheartedly in the goodness of others.

  Then, Piper took that hope and crushed it.

  Ever since then, I’ve been holding on to what was mine with both hands and a chain-link fence. Never wanting to give any ground. Not wanting to give away any more of myself than I could spare.

  Did I really want to let that become who I was?

  What Quinn was talking about was a larger version of what I had with Jordan, and the idea that I could be that for someone else was thrilling. I wanted to be a part of it.

  Immediately, I knew there was no one more suited for this than Tiffany. In the time that I’d worked here, could I even count how many stories I’d heard of favors she’d done for others?

  “Can I ask you a question? It’s a little left field.”

  Quinn nodded, her body language subtly shifting, readying herself for what I was about to ask.

  “What has Tiffany done for you?” I heard the question and stammered to rephrase it. “I mean, uh. Hmm.” Christ, this shouldn’t be this hard. “Has she ever—”

  Quinn, realizing that I was floundering, cut in with a laugh. “I think I know what you’re getting at. She has a habit of helping out. I know a lot of people who owe her a favor or two, not that she ever keeps count or cares about collecting. It’s just her way.”

  “I used to believe it was selfishly motivated,” I said, not ashamed to show my regret.

  She hummed, considering. “She’s tough, but anyone who has spent more than a minute with her can tell she’ll do anything for the people she cares about.”

  “Yes, I’ve learned that.”

  “What has Tiffany done for you?” Quinn watched me carefully as she returned my earlier question.

  A good question with a difficult answer. Because what hadn’t she done for me? Every memory of the last few months were colored with her presence. Every moment was an integral step to where we were now, to how I felt about her.

  I loved her. I knew that without question.

  Tiffany brought both the challenge of thought that I chased, as well as a sense of mindfulness, of being completely in the moment. It was gut instinct and empowerment versus my tendency for careful contemplation.

  More than any one action, there were the small, subtle ways that Tiffany had done things for me. Cups of coffee and words of encouragement. Hell, even when we’d been at each other’s throats at the beginning, she’d always made sure it never affected how the staff treated me, never let it interfere with her work. No matter how much she debated an idea or fought me on something, she would concede. Usually with a wave or a shrug, saying, “It’s your bar.”

  Like a key finally clicking into place, I knew what I had to do. What I needed to do.

  “Anyway,” Quinn said, standing, and I realized I hadn’t answered her, too lost in thought. The knowing look on her face said she hadn’t minded. “I’m sure you have a lot of work to do, but I’m glad to have you on board. Tiffany was right about you. You’re not like the rest. She’s a pr
etty good judge of character, that one.”

  I smiled. “Yes, she is.”

  * * *

  Quinn shook my hand, promised to be in contact with more information, and left me alone with my mind racing.

  It was clear that the bar would be alright. Despite my recent efforts, it had the support of the people around me, and now that Pierce had used his trump card, we’d faced the worst and come out relatively unscathed. One call to my lawyer had confirmed it—we could re-open next week, and there would be no further issues with the permit.

  All that was left was to move forward with the re-opening. And for the first time since I’d started, I could work free from distraction. Just me and the bar.

  It felt bleak.

  What was wrong with me? How had I failed so spectacularly at this again?

  Flashes of it all came at me at once. Tiffany, agreeing to help me, hands locked in her shirt, voluntarily conceding. Over and over. Giving me control. She’d been upfront, challenging but never asking for more than what she wanted.

  And I had reacted like a preschooler. Don’t touch my stuff.

  I’d acted as badly as Pierce. Selfish. Stubborn. I palmed my eyes until spots appeared. Fuck.

  I wasn’t an idiot. I was an asshole.

  My fingers dialed the familiar number before I contemplated what I was going to say. Just that I needed to do this. I couldn’t move on without talking to her.

  “Sam?” Piper’s surprise was evident.

  “Hi, Piper.”

  “Is … Was there something wrong with the paperwork?”

  “No. That should already have been it back to your lawyers.” She would already know that, but it made sense that that was where her mind had gone. “I wanted to …” This was harder than I expected. Not that long ago, we had shared a life together, and now, I’d forgotten how to speak to her. “Are you happy?”

  Her sharp intake of breath cut through the phone, and there was another stretch of silence while I wondered if I’d pissed her off. When she spoke next, it was sadness that I heard instead. “I am. Is that horrible?”