Playing with Danger (Desire Bay 2)

Hannah knew exactly where that was. That was the place Cal was working on, and everyone had their eye on these new homes going in.

“Okay, how long are you needing a bartender?”

“The entire evening, roughly six p.m. until eleven. You provide your own liquor, and the flat rate is eight thousand for the night. Are you interested?”

Ah, fuck yeah, she was! That was her goal for what she needed to make the balloon payment minus alcohol cost. She couldn’t believe that she would actually make this work. With this one side job, she’d finally have her bar.

“Yes, I can do that,” Hannah said, trying not to sound overly crazy with excitement.

“Wonderful. I will need your e-mail address to send all the details and the mailing address on where to send the funds,” Sarah said. The confident, routine tone of her voice made Hannah think she’d booked these kind of events a hundred times before. But this one was the gateway to changing Hannah’s life.

Hannah gave Sarah all her contact information and thanked her before hanging up. She smiled so wide it hurt her face. If this event came through, she’d be able to pay for the bar and it would actually be hers.

Hope and happiness raced through her, and she almost couldn’t believe it. She knew better than to count on anything until the money was in hand, but this should work out!

She bounced on her toes, thinking of all the fun things she wanted to get done today. One being do something special for Grant’s birthday tomorrow. He didn’t know that she knew, but she wanted to at least acknowledge his big day.

She pursed her lips and tried to think of what she could do for him . . . get him . . .

Her day was looking up. That was, until her least favorite customer came in—her father.

“You know I won’t serve you,” she said to him.

He ignored her and sat at the bar anyway. “I came to see my little girl,” he said.

Hannah looked him over. Wasn’t the worst she’d ever seen him, but not the best. His jeans were dirty, and his white T-shirt was wrinkled and stained with either a few drops of blood or barbecue sauce. It was then she noticed he was missing one of his upper teeth.

Guess it was blood.

And she didn’t want to know any more. It was equally likely that her father had gotten in a fight, fallen, or ripped his own tooth out on a wager. In all cases, she’d rather not know.

He scratched his knuckles along his cheek, the gray stubble making a sandpaper noise as he did. He looked tired. Dark circles around his eyes and splotchy, leathery skin. He was fifty-five and looked closer to seventy. There were more sunspots on the top of his balding head, and Hannah wondered if she should take him to the doctor to get those checked out.

“What do you need?” she asked.

“Just came to see my girl,” he said. She wasn’t sure why he returned to small talk. Maybe he was drunk already? Maybe he was gearing up to ask for something other than money? A flare of hope pierced her ribs.

“What is it, Silas?”

He smiled, then frowned, then sighed. A ping of worry raced up her spine like an eel on speed.

That eel instantly died when it hit the back of her neck.

“Rent is due,” he spit out. So it really was just about money. Stupid she’d think otherwise, even for a moment. Why was she surprised? The fact that she kept giving it to him said, if anything, how stupid she was. Granted, she tried not to look at it that way. If her father didn’t pay rent, he’d be homeless. Because no way in hell would she take him in, and there was literally nowhere else for him to go. So keeping him in a roof and walls was good for Hannah, her father, and society in general.

She’d been a pawn in her dad’s game long enough to know her way around the con.

“Rent is three fifty a month,” she said. For a trailer out in the middle of nowhere, you got what you pay for.

He nodded. “I’m short two hundred.”

“Okay,” she said with a solid breath and placed her hands on the bar top. “I’ll pay the two hundred to your landlord.”

He laughed. The raspy, sleepy laugh of a man who was used to having an esophagus full of whiskey.

“Just give it to me, and I’ll run it over right now.”

Now Hannah laughed. “Never.”