“If?”
“Vaughan’s never been like this about a girl before. All over everything to do with you, making sure things are cool and you’ll be treated right. I know you’ve had a fight or two, but he never even stuck around for those before.” Her smile was way too hopeful. “Usually women were just temporary, easy. This thing with you … it’s nice.”
Oh shit. “Nell, I really like your brother. I’m sure that’s beyond obvious. But hasn’t he told you about this Henning Peters guy and the great opportunity with the record companies and everything?”
“I think he felt weird about the fight and then I was sick. Honestly, we haven’t spoken that much,” she said. “He’s going to work with Henning Peters?”
“Yes.”
“Wow. That’s huge.”
“Yes, it is. I’m a distraction, Nell,” I admitted, staring at my hands. Except only cowards did things like that. I raised my face again. “That’s the reality of your brother and me.”
She just looked at me.
“You’re right about this place, your parents’ house. Past issues bother him, make it hard to be here. I can only say that because I’m not telling you anything you didn’t already know.” Unlike the sale of the house. That was his news to share. Oops about the Henning Peters thing.
“I’m sorry,” Nell said.
“It is what it is. We’re friends.” I swallowed hard, doing my best to keep my cool. “Thank you for offering to let me stay, to store my things here.”
“Of course.”
We both tried to smile. I think hers was better than mine.
Screw men and their devil penises. I had a future to plan.
There were bound to be problems with me coming into the business. For instance, Eric treating the place like his woo palace. Though Rosie had confided the other day, he’d cut a lot of that out since Nell’s meltdown at him. He’d barely even bothered hitting on me. Still, I’d be watching. Also, how Eric took the news of his upcoming fatherhood could be vital. If he and Nell were able to continue to maintain a functioning relationship for the business’s sake.
But I had a month to settle in, to listen and learn. To see if I could make a go of this. I wanted to be a part of the Dive Bar, to stay in Coeur d’Alene. I had a lot to contribute and, for whatever reason, being here felt right. If it didn’t work out, however, I could always make a Plan B.
Chris had derailed me. Hurt my heart and shaken my pride. He’d also, however, shown me the error of my ways. The stupidity of me blindly scrambling, trying to make up for my crap childhood by replacing it with a bigger shinier house and family. Those things as I knew them were just props.
It might sound all Oprah, but my happiness needed to come from me. I knew that now.
I could build my own home, make a future for myself. Not rely on someone else to come along and magically make me feel like I had worth, as if I belonged. I could be strong on my own.
As a by-product of their bastardry, Chris and company had made me grow up and taught me some important life lessons. With my payout from the Delaneys for never suing for emotional or other damages, and refraining from ever telling my story to the press (their fear of Brett Chen being of significant worth), I’d be implementing what I’d learned.
Ironic, really. I might even thank my ex-fiancé one of these days.
Doubt it, though.
*
Nell needed the office. I left the bookwork and helped Rosie and Masa finish up for the night. Loading the industrial dishwashers, cleaning the tables, mopping the floor, those sorts of things. Mostly any job allowing me to keep a keen eye on the back hallway. Who knew, the mother-to-be might well need emotional backup. It was a tense, high-drama situation. Given my own recent brush with forgotten prophylactics, I felt for her big-time.
Nell asked Eric to join her in the back office. Not a big deal. No one paid any attention. Yet. The owners (with the exception of Pat) had occasional closed-door meetings. Like his brother earlier, he never reappeared. Given he’d doubtless just received news of his impending fatherhood, I’d have used the back exit too.
Vaughan went in next. Two minutes later, he came storming back out, red of face and furious. “Where is he?”
“Who?” asked Rosie.
“Eric.” He spat out the name as if it were poison. “Where is he? I’m going to fucking kill him.”
“Dunno.” Rosie scuttled away. Fair enough.
“He’s gone.” I stopped pretending to be deeply engrossed in refilling the condiments. Vaughan’s evil eye turned my way. Shit. The man was beyond enraged, top lip curled and shoulders heaving. You’d have thought I’d knocked up his sister, the way he was glaring daggers. “He left a little while back.”
“Coward.”
Not good. With all of the violence from the four-dude epic battle in his sitting room earlier this week, you’d have figured he’d have had his fill of punch-ups for a while. Guess not, though.