Dirty (Dive Bar #1)

Nell shook her head. “He doesn’t have the cash. Eric’s still paying him back for bankrolling his thirty percent when we opened.”

“Christ.” He wiped a hand over his face. “This is why you shouldn’t go into business with friends or family. It just gets fucking complicated.”

“You’re right. I should have trusted total strangers with my life-long dream.”

Vaughan’s shoulders sagged. “Didn’t know things were so bad with you.”

“You were busy, touring and recording. I didn’t want to worry you. I thought I could ride it out.”

“Yeah.” A long-winded sigh. “I’m sorry, Nell. I don’t have the money. I’d do it for you in a heartbeat if I could, but I can’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m tapped out. Things … they weren’t as good as I made them out to be.” Hands on hips, he faced her. “In fact, they’re pretty much fucked. I was hoping you could buy this place off me. I’m sorry.”

Hell, poor Vaughan. If I could have been anywhere else, I’d have been there. Instead, I sat silent and still, hopefully forgotten.

“You want to sell the house? How bad is it?” she asked.

“I’ll figure something out. It’ll be okay.” He licked his lips, studying the ground.

“How bad, Vaughan?”

Slowly, he shut his eyes, letting his head fall back. It took him a long time to answer. “I had to borrow to buy you out of this place.”

Nell’s mouth fell open. “What? You told me you had it!”

“What’d you think I’d say?” Blue eyes snapped open, laser-like in their intensity. “Like you said, it was your dream, opening the bar. Just like it was mine to play music. You backed me however you could. Did you really think I wouldn’t do the same for you?”

Nell covered her face with her hands, swearing softly beneath her breath. This went on for quite some time.

“For a while, it was fine,” Vaughan continued. “We were getting gigs, being paid. Then we had a lean time and I had to take out a mortgage.”

“You mortgaged our childhood home?” Her voice rose to banshee levels. Guess it was true what they said about redheads, at least of the female variety. “Vaughan, how could you!”

“It’s almost paid off. Touring with Stage Dive got most of it sorted, but things hit the wall when the band fell apart.”

His sister just shook her head. “If Mom weren’t dead, she’d kill you.”

“I know.”

“And if Dad weren’t dead … I don’t even know what he would do. But they’d never find your body. Or what was left of it.”

Nothing from Vaughan. His fallen face said it all.

In the distance a lawn mower roared to life, doing its thing. How bizarre to think our dramas didn’t even touch upon the bulk of most people’s everyday lives. They seemed so big and all-encompassing from within. Any happiness felt fake, phony. Or worse yet, as if it were about to be stolen away. Which was ridiculous, really: Vaughan would work his way out of his money troubles and I would date again. I’d find a job I liked, or least tolerated, and he’d start another band. Life would go on.

Right now, however, it just all seemed phenomenally shit.

“Okay, here’s what we do,” said Nell, her spine snapping straight. “You come work for us at the Dive Bar.”

“But—” An imperious hand halted him.

“No, Vaughan,” she said. “You need money, we need a new bartender. Hell, we’re probably about to need more waitstaff too. One way or another, you’re covered. You can do Pat’s shifts behind the bar for now.”

“I only planned on being in town for a few days, a week at most.”

Lines appeared beside Nell’s mouth. “Fine. Whatever. Work while you’re here. You start at six. Don’t be late.”

“Okay. I won’t be late.”

“And bring Lydia with you.”

“Why?”

“I like her. She didn’t mortgage my childhood home.”

“Right.” Vaughan crossed his arms.

“Thanks for the coffee and pastry,” I said.

“No problem. See you later.”

It took a while for the man to make any move once his sister left. For a long while, he stood staring after her, lost in thought. Useless platitudes filled my head, the usual reassuring crap. For now, I let it all go unsaid. Neither of us was really interested in hearing the obvious.

This summer was genuinely proving to be a motherfucker.

Wonder what nonsense was being said about me around town. Not that it mattered. No way I’d be accompanying Vaughan tonight to find out. First, I needed to find somewhere to stay until things were settled with the Delaneys. And if I hoped to have anything to wear in the near future, finding my clothes in this jungle needed to happen faster.

I brushed off my hands, leaving the empty cup on the step to throw away later. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Liar,” I whispered.

“Am not,” he whispered back.

“Are too.”

He gave me a look most dubious.

“That was a heavy conversation. All I’m saying is, it’s okay not to be okay after it.”

He snorted, pushing his shoulders back. “You want to talk about feelings, Lydia? Is that what you want?”