"Tell me about it," Mina said. "My brother knows all of mine. Highly inconvenient."
"Aren't you working?" Tyree asked Mina.
She nodded, then held up her water and took a big gulp. "Just hydrating."
As she spoke, Megan came up, then tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear. "This looks like the best place to be," she said.
"Not anymore," Mina retorted. "I have to leave."
Megan laughed. "Even better if that means I get your stool."
Mina rolled her eyes. "No respect."
Megan waggled a finger, schoolteacher style. "We're supposed to be training for that 5K. You run this weekend with me and I'll show you respect."
With an impish grin, Mina glanced toward Cam. "I'm not usually out of bed that early on weekends..."
"Go," Cam said, laughing. "Before all my secrets are spread around this bar."
Mina winked at Tyree, then waved to the women before practically bouncing across the bar to where Brooke was discussing something about the reality show with one of the ever-present cameramen.
Megan climbed onto the vacated stool, and as she and Amanda shifted into gossip-mode, Tyree slipped into the crowd, talking with the regulars, shaking hands with the women who surrounded the stage, and then moving to the back to greet all the guys who were entered in the Mr. April contest.
He stayed there, watching from the back as the contest began, and cheering on each individual man as he strode toward the stage. With each contestant, the crowd got looser and Tyree noted that Tiffany and the other servers were hustling to fill the drink orders. Not bad, he thought, totaling a mental tab.
No doubt about it. Jenna had struck a genius moment when she'd conceived the contest. The crowd, the revenue. Hell, just the fun. On all counts, it was a top-notch idea.
So top-notch that he was a little surprised that his primary competition, Bodacious, hadn't swooped in to copy him. But so far, The Fix had the lock on local calendar contests. And when they printed the actual calendar and put it on sale in late October, that would be yet another revenue stream.
Hopefully all those streams would merge into river of enough money to keep the doors open come December.
Wistfully, he looked around the place, remembering the wreck it had been when he bought it. He'd refinished the long, oak bar himself, and Reece and Brent had helped with some of the other renovations. It was a great space. A space that he'd worked on with his bare hands. A space--and a business--that he loved. Filled with people he considered family.
He'd be damned if he'd let it go. If he'd walk away without a fight.
Not happening. Not this month. Not this year. Not ever.
With that thought ringing in his ears, he went back into the kitchen to check on the sanity of his cooks. On nights like this, things got a little crazy.
When he came back, the crowd was going wild and Nolan and the shy young woman Tyree had only met a few times--Shelby?--were locked in a clench.
His brows shot up and he turned to Reece, who was passing nearby. But all Reece did was shake his head, nod toward Nolan with a thumbs-up, and chuckle. Tyree laughed, too. The contest did seem to have the strangest effect on its participants.
Hell, maybe he should market the bar as a matchmaking venue.
A moment later, he saw that Nolan and Shelby were heading for the door. Since the winner hadn't yet been announced, Tyree considered calling them back. But he didn't. From the look on Nolan's face, wild horses couldn't keep him inside the bar.
He paused for a moment when Brent called his name, and he turned back to see his friend and partner signal for Tyree to reboot the security cameras. He flashed a thumbs-up and was about to head to the office to deal with that errand when caught a glimpse of the woman from Monday. The one who'd reminded him so much of Eva.
He froze. Simply froze. And as he watched her, a storm of bittersweet memories whipped around him, twisting up his insides and giving him no relief from the constant ache of long ago losses.
Resolutely, he forced himself to turn away. He needed to take care of the security system for Brent. More than that, he needed to get his head clear. He'd taken off yesterday to mourn his wife. Now that he was at work, he didn't need the distraction of an ex-girlfriend, too.
And yet the memories remained, and after he rebooted the system, he did the one thing that he knew he shouldn't. He sat down at his desk, opened his bottom drawer, and pulled out the battered cigar box. The one that he knew held a photo of Eva.
Slowly, he opened the box and pulled out a stack of faded photos. Elijah. Teiko. Birthday parties and Christmas scenes. And, yes, one of the funeral. Of Elijah in a suit, the nine-year-old boy trying so hard not to cry.
He forced himself to put them aside. To not get lost in the morass of memories he'd explored yesterday. Instead, he kept flipping, his eyes skimming over images of him and Charlie Walker, Reece's dad. And one of him with Reece's uncle, Vincent, just days before he'd been mortally wounded by enemy fire in Afghanistan, then died in Tyree's arms.