Chapter 6
Amelia
The alarm wakes me up, and I reach out of my blanket to turn it off, then bring my arm back under the thick heavy white duvet cover. I turn onto my back and stretch, my body hurting from staying up most of the night.
I toss the cover off me and get out of bed. If I stayed in bed any longer, I would not get up. Walking into my bathroom, I go straight to my walk-in closet and grab the black jeans and a black tank top. Dressing, I walk to the bathroom and look at my reflection. My eyes look like I haven’t slept in weeks. Turning on the cold water, I fill my hands and then splash it on my face. Reaching for a towel, I dab my face and grab some makeup to make me look human.
Slipping on my cowboy boots, I grab a jean jacket and walk out the door. My phone rings as soon as I sit in the car, and I see it’s my mother.
"Hey, Momma," I say as I connect my phone to the Bluetooth.
"Hey, baby girl," she says, and I smile every single time she calls me that. I could be fifty, and she would still call me baby girl. "Where are you?"
"I’m in the car on the way to the bar." I pull out of my driveway.
"Did you even sleep?" she asks, and I chuckle. "Don’t you laugh at me, Amelia Charlotte McIntyre."
"Ohhh, full name always means business," I say softly. "I’m fine, Mom."
"You are burning the candle at both ends, baby girl," she says softly. "And you know what happens then."
"We get another candle," I joke with her.
When the bar comes into view, my face lights up in a smile. This is what I’m working myself to the bone for. The bar is owned by my aunt Savannah. When we were little, we used to be able to come here on special occasions when she would have family day. I had the most fun line dancing with Chelsea and my aunts to playing hide-and-seek behind the bar. When I turned eighteen, I begged her to give me a summer job. She was adamant about me only working during the day when she was there. It took me a week to beg her to give me a Saturday night. She only agreed because she was stuck, and she was working. It was the most fun I’ve had in my life behind the bar mixing drinks and laughing with everyone. I knew then and there that this is what I wanted to do. I wanted to own the bar. I worked part-time even when I was in college, and finally, when I got my business degree, I went to see her. I sat down with her and asked her what it would take for me to buy the bar from her.
She was shocked that was what I wanted to do, and with tears in her eyes, she took out the papers to the bar and was ready to sign it over to me for fifty cents. I refused it; I would not just take it from her. I want to own it outright. I want it to be mine. We agreed on a price, and every single month, I pay her until it is paid off. It was supposed to take me ten years, but I’ve done it in less than five, and I only have four more payments to go.
"I really wish you would just work at the barn or the bar," she huffs.
"I know that I’m going to have to pick eventually," I say, pulling into the empty parking lot.
"If it’s a money thing, you know I’m more than happy to help." I groan, and my mother laughs.
"Why are you so freaking stubborn?" she says. "Exactly like your father."
"Hey, I come from good stock," I say, and she goes soft. "I have to go, Mom. How about we have lunch this week?"
"I’ll call you tomorrow," she says. "Love you, baby girl."
"Love you, too, Mom." I hang up the phone and look around the empty parking lot.
I’m surprised since Dolly is supposed to be here already. I grab my phone and see that I don’t have any messages from her. I get out of the truck and walk toward the entrance. The brown door has the name The Hideout painted blue on it. Unlocking the door with the keys I grabbed from my purse, I walk in and hear the alarm start to buzz. I punch in the code and look around.
It’s exactly how I left it Saturday night when I left. One thing I did when I took over was close on Sunday. I made some small changes like adding a sports station with big screens so people can come in and watch the games. I have it totally closed off with its own bar and tables so it blocks the music.