Fuck me, if I start crying right now.
Instead of pushing further, sensing the tension coiling inside me, Carter leans forward and sets his beer on the coffee table. “I think I’m going to head out.”
Forcing out the words, I say, “Okay.”
Together, we walk to the door, not exchanging any pleasantries, both well aware of the heaviness resting in our conversation.
Before he leaves, Carter says, “Good luck at spring training.”
“Thanks, man.”
I open the door, my head cast down at the ground since our conversation turned heavy quickly. There is no need for the man to see me break down. Carter is about to walk out of my apartment when he abruptly stops and say, “Uh, sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
Didn’t see you there?
Glancing up, I see Rebecca standing at my door, a determined look on her face, a strong set in her shoulders. My body freezes, my heart begins to rapidly beat in my chest, and all I can think is what the hell does she want?
Without another word, Carter leaves. What I wouldn’t give to force him to come back so I have a buffer, because from the look in Rebecca’s eyes, I’m not going to like the reason she’s here.
Grabbing the back of my neck, my other hand on the door, I ask, “Rebecca, what are you doing here?”
With conviction in her voice, she looks me dead in the eyes, no waver to them whatsoever. “I want her back, Jace. I want my baby back.”
Fuck.
CARTER
Yeah, whoever that girl was at the door didn’t seem like she belonged there by the ghost-white look on Jace’s face. If I were a better man, I would have stayed to see if he was okay, but I had to get out of there before he broke down. Just the mention of his daughter had him about ready to lose it. Didn’t want to see that.
Call me an insensitive prick, but I don’t do so well with feelings. I would end up making the situation worse by saying something he didn’t want to hear. Chalk it up to my fan-fucking-tastic upbringing.
Hell, that entire get-together was weird.
He just wanted to get to know me.
Me.
Who would want to do that? I’m barely nice to Daisy, the sunshine of our little fucked-up circle.
Tired, I head to my motorcycle where I’m going to drive back home, flop on my mattress on the floor of my shitty apartment, and sleep until I have to wake up for my shift tomorrow.
I’m fixing to retrieve my gloves from my jacket when my phone rings. Who the hell would be calling me?
Daisy.
This actually doesn’t surprise me.
“Hey,” I say, leaning against my motorcycle.
“Hi, Carter. How are you?”
“All right, what’s up?”
“Uh, are you busy?”
“Not really. About to drive home.”
“Oh, nice.” She’s silent and even through the phone, I can tell she’s nervous.
“Why’d you call, Daisy?”
“Well, um, I was hoping maybe you wanted to hang out. I’m kind of hungry. Maybe we can grab a bite to eat. But if you don’t want to, that’s okay. I just thought I would ask since I’m hungry and was looking for company. Really up to you. You know what, I think I might actually just grab something from King Soopers, you know, make a little diddy for myself at home. I can make a wicked meatloaf, oh, you already know that. Meatloaf might be too long—”
“Where do you want to meet?” I ask, wanting to stop the incessant rambling.
“Where do . . . oh, you want to meet?
“Sure, I could eat.”
“Wonderful.” Gleeful is not even a close enough description for the way she sounds right now. “I don’t really know of any places to eat besides Country Buffet and Cracker Barrel. They were our favorite places to eat.”
Why does this not surprise me? They probably wore matching kitten sweaters while taking part of the early-bird special.
“Meet me at Prohibition. It’s on East Colfax.”
“Prohibition, sounds like a fun place. Do they take coupons?”
“Not so much.” I shake my head at her. Coupons. Christ. “Meet you in twenty.”
“Oh, sure, yeah. See you soon.”
I hang up quickly before I can change my mind. Partner in crime, I keep telling myself over and over again on my way to the restaurant. It’s one of my favorite places to grab a beer, especially during the summer where you can sit out on the patio and watch Denverites mill about.
I’ve made it my mission to become familiar with the restaurants in the city, studying their menus, the drinks they carry ranging from liquor to local micro-brews that complement the food. I’ve studied tirelessly, keeping track of who serves what, during what season, and for how much. I have an entire notebook dedicated to my future competition along with multiple menus I’ll use one day when I finally own a place.
Fuck, it stings knowing I was so close.
I planned to pay off my uncle, get a job somewhere else, and continue to save until I could perfect my idea and talk to some local venture capitalists. That was going to be me proving my existence, even if I didn’t know that term at the time.
The drive to Prohibition put me in an even worse mood than I was in, which has me considering to cancel on Daisy, but I can’t seem to let myself disappoint her. So I find a parking spot close to the restaurant and head on in.
Luckily, the booth in the very back is open. I take a seat so I’m facing the door, giving me the perfect view of Daisy when she walks in.
Scanning the beer list, my eyes fixate on one of my favorite lagers, Upslope. Should I drink? The scruff on my jaw grates against my fingers as I try to make a decision, just as the door to the restaurant opens. I look up to find a woman walk in wearing skinny jeans, knee-high brown boots, a white T-shirt, and a form-fitting brown leather jacket. It’s not until the same woman smiles at me and waves erratically as if she knows me that I realize it’s Daisy.
Daisy?
Holy Shit.
I want to wipe my eyes, shake my head, do a double take. That’s not Daisy.
Is it?
Where’re the overalls, the turtleneck, the quilted vest?
“Hi, Carter,” she says, a giant smile on her face, her thumbs looped in her low-riding jeans.
I swallow hard. Shit just got so much more complicated.
HOLLYN
“You don’t have to make me dinner.”
“Yes, I do.” Amanda stirs the pot of spaghetti sauce on the stovetop. “You were great today, Hollyn.” Turning around, Amanda places her hands over her heart. She’s the perfect picture of gratitude. “You were so helpful with Daisy. Did you see the smile on her face? I mean, she smiles a lot, but I’ve never seen her smile like that.”
“It was no problem at all. I really like Daisy. She’s super sweet, and all she wants is to experience life; how could I not help her accomplish that dream of hers?”
“Pretty hard not to.” Amanda leans her back against the counter and sips from her wineglass. “Can I get mushy on you?”
“When has asking ever stopped you?”
“True.” Sighing, she tilts her head and studies me. “I’m grateful for you coming out today and taking part in my wedding stuff. I know it must not be easy for you.”