“Because you both love her—Logan, too. Now tell me what is going on.”
Should I?
For the first time since I couldn’t remember, I stared at my father and considered opening up. I wasn’t forced to ask for a favor—not like two years ago when we needed help dealing with a guy going after Logan’s girlfriend.
All the hatred and loathing I used to feel for my father was gone, and a small amount of respect had taken its place, but I still couldn’t make myself say the words. I still didn’t trust him enough.
He sighed, as if sensing my internal battle. “Mason, I know I was a fuck-up as a father. I let you raise yourself and your brother. I knew the effect my cheating had on your mother, and I still did it. I never stepped in and called her on her neglect, because that would’ve meant the reason for her neglect had to be discussed.” He glanced away and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry.” He looked back, raw pain on his face. “I know I’ve apologized before. I know I’ve tried to show you I’m a changed man, and I also know I can never force you to accept me back in your life. But you don’t have to do any of that. You took this internship because of your business requirement. I get that, and I’m glad you’re here. I wouldn’t have it any other way. It would’ve hurt me if you’d gone to a different corporation. So, I don’t know. Maybe you can just tell me what’s going on because I love you? No tit for tat. No blackmail. Nothing. Just…I want to help if I can.”
I studied him. He could be lying. He could use this against me in the future. If I was going to open up, so was he.
“When is Analise going to approach Sam?” I asked.
“What?” He tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. She’s here. She knows Sam is here. When’s she going to make her move?”
He shook his head. “Analise promised Malinda a year ago that she’d step back. It’s all on Sam’s timeline. When and if she wants to talk to her, Analise is ready, but it’s up to Sam. She said that to Malinda, and she meant it. Why?”
Because my girlfriend is running herself ragged, worried about when Analise will show up on our doorstep. Because she jumps every time someone knocks on the door. Because I’m tired of catching her looking out the window to see if she’ll see Analise walking down the sidewalk.
I put my hands into my pockets and lifted a shoulder. “No reason. We were just wondering.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Well, if you want to clue me in on why you have to watch Sam during the afternoon, I’d appreciate it.” He held his hands up. “But I’m not going to force you.” He waited a beat, a half-smile lifting the side of his mouth. “It’s been nice having you work for me.” He nodded to the stack of papers on his desk. “Thank you for all of that. I know the opening ceremony will be a huge success, and not because you’re loaning out your name, but because of the work you’ve done. You and Adam Quinn.”
I winced. “Don’t give that guy any credit.”
“Why? He’s not doing his fair share?”
“No, because he is.” I turned to leave and added over my shoulder, “That’s what’s annoying about him.”
I heard my dad’s chuckle as I left, and for once in a long time, I didn’t hate the sound of it.
SAMANTHA
“If you wanted to work behind a bar, I could’ve pulled rank with Brandon. You didn’t need to join my competitor.”
It was late afternoon, and I was washing a glass when Heather slid onto the solitary barstool we had by the counter. It was there for the staff to rest while waiting for their orders to be filled. The rest of the customers had to come up, get their beers, and sit at one of the thirty picnic tables set up outside the beer garden’s tent.
I lowered the glass and automatically reached for a beer. Sliding it across the counter to her, I said, “You know I’m sorry.”
“I know.” She took the beer. “And you already explained, but I gotta give you a hard time.”
I shot her a rueful grin. “I feel like an asshole.”
“As you should.” She grinned back. “I’m just kidding. I have to give you some shit.”
“But still…it’s your business.”
She shrugged. “It’ll be fine. Your safety is more important, and it’s not your fault that your boyfriend has enough clout in the community to pull people from one business to another.” She closed her eyes, a soft smile on her face. “Oh, what it would be like to have a normal best friend with a normal boyfriend.”
“Shut up.” But I was laughing.
“For real, though…” She opened her eyes to look at me. “I just want you to be safe.”
“I know, and I think I am.” I glanced around the busy tables. Heather was right. The group that had been hanging out at Manny’s moved with Mason to the beer garden. It wasn’t just our peers—those who had stayed home after high school or the ones home only for the summer—but much of the rest of Fallen Crest as well. Channing had stopped in a few times, but he remained close to Manny’s, so Heather wasn’t hurting as much as she was teasing me about. I knew most of the Roussou crowd had taken Manny’s as their new spot. Which had me thinking: “If Channing’s running his own bar, why’s he in Fallen Crest so much?”
“He’s running it with his cousin. Channing takes the day hours, and Scratch has the evenings.”
“He brings a lot of people over with him. Why don’t they stay in Roussou and go to his bar?”
“Because Channing isn’t there.” She said it so simply. “And because his bar is geared to a rougher crowd. It’s a hardcore biker bar.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “It’ll taper off in the winter months. He’s over here because of me right now, and I’m here because of the summer hours. Then all the summer folk will head out, and Manny’s will go back to normal. I can take a few more nights off.” She rolled her eyes. “Plus, Channing’s got his own pull now because of his fighting. I’m hoping he’ll stop in the fall.”
“Really?” I felt like a parrot.
“I’m not here to talk about my relationship and business,” Heather announced. “I’m here to check in with you.” She eyed the far table where Mason and Adam had set up camp, laptops, books, and notebooks spread out between them. “How’s that going?”
“What do you mean? That Mason’s here to protect me from Caldron? That he and Adam are working together here, or the fact that they’re working together?”
“Any and all of that.”
A customer came up, and I started to fill the order, but I couldn’t help looking back to Mason’s table. After Caldron’s attack, the rest of the week had seemed almost boring. I worked at the beer garden every night, and after the first few passed with no incidents, Petey had relaxed. He realized I wasn’t going to fuck things up for him, and the rest of the workers accepted me once they learned an increase in their tips came with me.
Even Keifer had stopped coming over and glaring at us every night. He still came in, but he only glared half the time. The other half he spent arguing with Petey or laughing with my coworkers. He hadn’t checked in today. Yet. He would, and every time he did, he stared at Mason for a good ten minutes. Mason had stared back the first night, but when Keifer didn’t do anything, Mason stopped paying attention. Or that was how it seemed to everyone else. I knew he was on full alert, and not just because of my boss. He was waiting for Caldron’s next move. So far, nothing had happened.
So far.
It was going to happen, and I knew Mason was also counting down the hours until Nate arrived. He should be rolling into town at any moment.
“Things are okay,” I told Heather.
“Really?” Her eyes found mine.
I shrugged, filling another order. “Well, I can say Mason will be relieved to have Nate here, too.”
Heather waggled her eyebrows. “Where’s the hottie Hawaiian?”
“You should know. He spends more time with you guys than
with us.”
That wasn’t completely true. He’d stuck to Mason’s side like glue for the first two days after Caldron’s attack, then began heading to Roussou more and more after that. A certain blonde who had been wrapped around him on Channing’s fight night kept calling. It didn’t take a genius to figure out she was wrapping around him on a more consistent basis.
Heather snorted. “Right. He shows up for pussy, then after he gets his fill, he’s off to find you guys.” She turned to Mason’s table. “He’s not here, and I know he’s not with Channing’s crew. He must be at Tiffany’s.”
“That’s her name?”
“Yeah. She’s not bad, actually. But I don’t think she realizes he’s leaving for Cain U in a few weeks for football.”
“Really?”
“She’s not mentioned it, and I know her. If she knew her new boy-toy was a big footballer, that’d be the only thing she talked about.” Heather grew pensive, her eyebrows dipping together. “Why didn’t he go pro?”
“He stayed back to play one more year with Mason.”
“Yeah?”
I nodded and left it at that. Matteo also had a girlfriend who’d broken his heart last year. She’d flown across the nation to pursue law at Columbia while he remained in California. He’d been heartbroken all over again when he realized he was single when Logan was not.
I filled three plastic cups with beer. “I think he’s hoping he’ll get drafted by the same team, but the chances of that are low. I don’t think either is excited to be separated. They’re going to enjoy their last year together on the team.”
Heather seemed like she was going to respond, but then she was distracted as Becky, Cass, and three other girls walked through the beer garden to sit at Mason and Adam’s table.
“What the fuck?” Heather murmured.
I waited, grinning. I knew what would happen next.
Mason didn’t spare them a look, only jerked a thumb over his shoulder to the picnic table behind him. One by one the girls stood, all with varying scowls, and crossed to sit at that table instead. It happened almost every night when Becky and her friends arrived. They were always booted to their own table.
I shook my head. “You’d think they’d learn.” They never did.
Heather didn’t reply, and I looked over to see her and Becky in a heated stare. Becky was holding her own. I expected to see my old friend pale and shaking, but she wasn’t. Her eyes were wide, her lips pressed in a determined line, and she was sitting straight up.
If she’d been my friend, I would’ve been proud.
But she wasn’t.
“Sam.”
I turned and headed to the opposite end of the counter where Petey waved me over.
“What’s up?” I asked.
He placed five plastic cups in front of me, along with two filled beer pitchers. “Take these to those girls who just sat behind your boyfriend.”
“No way.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m behind the counter, not on the other side, and they’ve not ordered. Since when do you give out free beer?”
“Look around. We’re slower than normal. We need those girls to call their friends. Giving free booze to hot chicks helps with sales.”
“You guys have been just fine with sales.” Thanks to me. Thanks to Mason.
He nudged the cups closer to me. “I’ve been watching those girls. The redhead will stay as long as your boyfriend’s buddy does. Once Mason and that guy finish working, they’ll take off, and that means Mark’s girlfriend will also want to leave. You’re right. Our sales have been up, but they tripled the night those girls stayed, and you want to know why?” He moved closer. “Because they called their rich friends, who had no problem dropping hundreds of dollars on our beer. Your boy’s been true to his word. He’s brought people in, but that group, in particular, has no problem burning through cash.” He tapped the pitcher. “Take the free beer to them, and try to smile as you do it.”
I gave him a look. “Why me? Why don’t you do it?”
“Because those are your people.”
I snorted. Little did he know, but I picked up the pitcher and cups and moved out from behind the counter, making my way to them. Not a chance in hell was I smiling. I made sure my scowl was noticeable as I placed the beer on their table.
Cass rolled her eyes. “Service with a smile, Sam. Isn’t that the motto?”
Becky was focused on Adam, but she looked around at the mention of my name. She stood, hurrying over to pick up a pitcher. “Sam doesn’t have to do that. She’s not a waitress.” One of the other girls separated the cups, and Becky began to fill them. “This was free? Thank you, Sam.”
“Oh, no.” I pointed to Petey. “This was all him. He had me bring them over. I didn’t want to give you guys free anything, but now that you have it, happy drinking. I hope you get drunk and puke all over your boyfriends’ cars.”
“I heard that.” Mark came up behind me, his carnival uniform shirt in hand.
“Finished for the day?” I asked.
He nodded, his gaze guarded.
“Oh good. You can get drunk, too. Petey’s orders.”
Mark stared at me for a few beats. “What’s wrong with you? You’re being mean.”
I opened my mouth. I so wasn…I was. My neck warmed, and I let out a silent sigh.
“I apologize to you, but not them.” He knew who I meant. “Your girlfriend’s been a bitch to me for years, and I have a hard time letting people back in once they’ve turned their back on me.”
Without looking at the table, I went back to the counter. My eyes met Mason’s for a fleeting moment, and I trailed a finger over his shoulders as I passed.
Heather gave me a knowing look when I returned to her, remarking, “That was entertainment. We need to schedule more of these outings.”
“Fuck you.” I laughed.
“Sam?”
I tensed, but turned around. If Becky’d had a hat, it would’ve been in her hands.
“What?” I readied myself.
“Can we talk?” Her eyes flitted to Heather, then she nodded away from the tables. “In private?”
“No.”
I went back to working, grabbing a washcloth to wipe down the counter.
“Please?”
I kept working.
She kept standing there.
Ignoring. That was the best defense sometimes, but after a full minute where I cleaned three other counters, Becky was still there. The ignoring tactic wasn’t working.
I tossed the rag into the sink and frowned. “What are you doing, Becky? I am not the Sam I was when we were friends. I am not passive. I don’t take shit.” My chest was getting tight. “I’m not nice anymore.”
Heather jumped in, quietly, “Yes, you are.”
“Not lately.” I threw her a look. This wasn’t her fight.
She held her hands up, leaning back on her stool.
Becky’s shoulders lifted as she drew in a breath. “Are you done?”
“No!” I yelled, then came out from behind the counter. “Follow me.” When we got behind the beer garden’s tent, I turned around and crossed my arms over my chest. “What do you want?!”
“You’re one of my moments.”
“What?”
She looked down, and her voice quieted. “Adam asked me last year about my top five regrettable moments. You were one of them.”
I could only stare at her. I knew what she was talking about, and my God, I was having a hard time holding myself back. I closed my eyes. My blood boiled, and I began counting to ten.
1
2
3
4—“Are you kidding me?!”
Becky shrank back.