Your Neighborhood Bartender (The Neighborhood Book 1)

by Tarrah Anders

I stood up Valerie. I never called her to cancel or to explain what was going on and I sure as shit haven’t talked to her in the past few days. Hell, I haven’t even touched my phone aside from talking to the insurance company on the first day.

  Fuck!

  If this is what is feels like to be a complete sorry asshole, then I’m definitely there.

  I can only imagine the shit that could be going through her mind. We spent several hours wrapped up in one another in the passionate throes to when we were supposed to go out again the following night, I unintentionally ghosted her.

  Fuck!

  I grab my phone from under the counter press the screen to turn it on, except it doesn’t do a thing. My screen is black. I don’t know her number, to call her from the bar phone. I look at the clock, noting the time and figure that she’s likely still at work and not at home.

  I turn to Miles.

  “How pissed was she?” I ask to gauge how I should approach the situation.

  He turns to me with a confused look. “Is she more than one of the random chicks that you’ve hooked up with? Why do you care?” he asks.

  “Just tell me Miles!” I seethe through a clenched jaw as he holds up his hands in surrender and taking a step back.

  “She came in here the night after you had the flood at your place. She asked for you and when I told her you weren’t here, she left. She came back again the next day and same thing – she was just a little more on the pissed off side this time. She hasn’t been back since. I figured you ducked out and wouldn’t want her to know what was happening with you, so I didn’t elaborate on where or what you were doing.”

  “Shit. I mean, in normal instances previous to her – that would have been the route to go. But this chick, she’s different. Shit! How the hell do I fix this?”

  “Call her and tell her the truth.” Miles offers.

  “Her number is on my phone and it’s dead.” I explain running my hands through my hair in frustration.

  “Get flowers and bring them to her work.”

  “Flowers? Flowers are stupid, they die.”

  “Chicks like flowers, even the ones who say they don’t.”

  “How do you know this shit, you’re only what – twenty?” I look at him.

  “I’m twenty-five. But my mom, she always liked flowers. She would get all choked up when-when her boyfriend would send them,” he says nervously.

  “Where’s your dad?” I ask noting the way his tone changed forgetful at that moment that I shouldn’t give a shit and have more important things to worry about.

  “Um, he’s dead. But my mom and him, they never married, there was… an um… a conflict of interest.” He explains as his eyes dart around the bar area, avoiding mine.

  I can’t get involved in Miles problems, nor do I want to. I need to go make this better between Valerie and I before any more time goes by and she hates me for it. I need to explain and grovel.

  “There is a flower stand that sits on the corner of Mayberry and Wight, it’s next to the pharmacy.” Miles offers.

  I give him a tight smile, not wanting him to read too much into the conversation and opening up that we just had and grab my phone, wallet and sweatshirt.

  “Tell Micah, I’ll be back before the dinner rush.” I salute and head out of the bar with determination in my footing.

  Chapter Nine

  The office that Valerie works in is stuffy. The flouresant lights are annoying bright and the people here look miserable. I would never do well in a place like this. I walk up to the front and ask for Valerie.

  “Dear, we have three Valerie’s that work here. Which one would you be wishing to speak to Mr. Baker?” the woman, nearly ancient, asks me. I don’t question how she knows my name or who she is, this is Mercy after all.

  “I’m sorry, I’m looking for Valerie Dubois, she’s relatively new.” I state.

  “And what kind of appointment would this be?” she asks typing on her keyboard, briefing looking at me.

  “Personal.” I reply.

  “Noah Baker,” the older woman proclaims taking me aback. “I don’t want any of your wishy-washy dirtying up that poor girl.” She points a wrinkled finger at me.

  “It’s not like that, can I just please see her?” I ask, trying to give her the look that used to melt my mothers’ heart and get her to agree to anything with me.

  She looks at me in thought and my puppy dog eyes must have worked as she picks up her receiver and dials a number.

  “Yes, dear? You have Mr. Baker up front to speak to you.” The woman looks at me. “Yes. Yes? Okay, I see. I will let him know,” she hangs up.

  “Ms. Dubois said that she is busy at the moment, but if you would like to wait, you may.”

  “Okay, I can do that.” I nod turning and approaching the waiting chairs lined up across from the reception desk.

  “You may be waiting awhile Mr. Baker. She didn’t sound too pleased that you were here, and didn’t sound like she was in any hurry,” she warns me.

  “I’ll wait. I’ll wait for her.” I nod and take a seat.

  Since my phone was dead, I had nothing to do other than stare at the wall and the older woman that was seated in front of me. I’m not sure how long that I sat there waiting, but what seemed like three times, the phone would ring, the woman would look at me and speak in a hushed tone to who I am assuming is Valerie.

  After the fourth time, Valerie slowly walked out to the front with a rigid posture. She was casually dressed and looking pretty pissed off as she approaches me.

  She stops a few feet away from me with her arms crossed, and a look of annoyance. I rise out of the chair. I extend the flowers to her and she looks at them with distaste but takes them anyways. I see a slight drop in her mask and smell the flowers for a moment, but quickly covers up with a light cough and resumes the angry façade.

  “I’m sorry.” I say immediately to no change in her demeanor.

  “What are you sorry for?” she asks.

  “The past few days have been the worst,” I say. “if we can talk in private?”

  “I would rather not. You can say what you need to say out here, I’ve got to get back to work, so if you can make this quick? It’s not like you have a reputation to uphold.”

  “This has nothing to do with my reputation. I mean I’m hoping to turn that around. Look, you know about this reputation. I’m not pulling the wool over your eyes, I’m in it. I’m here with flowers apologizing, if you would just let me explain?”

  “Thank you for the flowers, but like I mentioned I need to get back to work,” she says with a turn of her heel.

  This is what it feels like to be rejected? Man, I’m a dick.

  Chapter Ten

  Mercy is a small town, a town that likes gossip.

  Usually I don’t pay any attention to the gossip, because sometimes there are bad things that some of the women of this town have said about me. But now, the gossip is splashing all over the place.

  It’s been a whole day since I went to Valerie’s work. A day where I groveled, was not heard, and was rejected – all in a less than five minutes.

  Sure, I could just wipe my hands of the situation and move on with my life, but it’s as if a spell has been cast over me and all I can think about is her. I could easily go on with the way my life was going. Fucking random chicks, whenever the need arose, but now I’m not even looking at other women.

  I’ve spent my entire work shift waiting for her to walk in the door, walk up to the bar and forgive me, to hear me out and to let us go on with – our relationship.

  Wow.

  Me? Noah Baker, self-professed man-whore, who could care less about a relationship is wanting a woman to walk into his bar and be in a relationship with him. It shouldn’t piss me off that she’s not giving me the time of day, I should feel relieved, only I don’t. I want to just be able to explain what the hell happened and for her to hear me out. I understand that she’s pissed off, but she must realize that in the short ti
me that we’ve known one another that we have chemistry and I’ll be damned if I let her slip through my fingers.

  I’m pacing outside of Valerie’s apartment building waiting for her to get home from work. If she won’t talk to me there, I will try again at her home. She pulls her car to the curb, an older gray Honda and looks at me. With a shake of her head, she gets out of the car and takes her time walking up the sidewalk to me.

  “Please, hear me out?” I ask.

  “You stood me up Noah. You stood me up the day after we slept together. Do you know how that felt?” she takes a deep breath, brushes past me and walks to her front door. “I know about your reputation and I immediately thought that I was just another notch on your belt. I thought that whatever we were doing was different, but I guess I was wrong. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

  I followed her up to the porch, when she opened the door, she left it open and stormed through the entrance, so I followed her in and shut the door behind me. She dropped her purse on her bed and then toed off her shoes. She walked towards the kitchen area and got a glass of water. She stood rigidly, took a deep breath and then looked directly at him.

  “I felt used. The new girl in town doesn’t know any better and despite what the entire town knows about Noah Baker, despite what her new friends have said in passing - she still hooks up with him. And once he fucked her, he ghosted her.” She says in an exhausted tone.

  “That’s not what happened, not at all. Can I explain?” when she says nothing, I take that as a means to continue. “My house flooded– but anyways, the night after we were together, when we were supposed to hang out, I came home to a disaster at the house. All my furniture downstairs was ruined, my carpets, everything. I have spent the last several days dealing with the ins and outs of replacing, repairing, airing and fucking stressing. I took time off of the bar, my only revenue, so I could hopefully restore the heap of shit house that I grew up in. I didn’t call you because I fucking forgot, and I feel like an asshole because of that. It’s not an excuse, but I’ve never had to check in with anyone. I’m learning about the dating world from Google and from the twenty-five-year-old bartender that I employ. I’m sorry, I’ll do better. If you just give me a second chance?”

  “You have a phone and my number,” she points out the obvious.

  “And I’m admitting that I forgot, then my phone went dead yesterday and as soon as my head was a bit clear, I remembered. That’s when I came and sat at your work for three hours.”

  “When my calls went to voicemail, that wasn’t you sending it there?” she asks, her eyes searching my face.

  “Not at all. If your phone calls went to voicemail, that would have been when my phone was dead. I haven’t had a clear head, the past few days and only charged the phone last night.”

  She turns around and grabs something out of the fridge and turns on the oven.

  “If you’re staying for dinner, can you please go to the store and grab some fresh French bread?” she asks.

  “Does this mean that we’re okay?” I ask.

  “It means that you’ve got a lot to learn about dating. Shit that Google won’t tell you. So, I’ll give you a crash course over dinner. But, hopefully, we’ll get there -to being okay.”

  “Can I kiss you?” I ask stepping closer.

  When she doesn’t answer, I take that as a welcoming sign to move in and do it.

  Epilogue

  Dating is hard.

  But I’m learning.

  While dating is hard, it’s amazing just the same.

  I’m not sure why I was against it for so long and didn’t know what I was missing this entire time, but I’m happy that I waited to start dating until Valerie moved to town.

  Upon investing in some updated plumbing and installing new drywall, Valerie helped me renovate the rest of the damage from the flood of my home and within six months, she moved in and my home became our home.

  I’ve become a changed man, in all ways that matter. I’m still cocky when I need to be, and I know that I’m a catch. After all, I’ve got the girl, right?

  I’m Noah Baker, the bartender and owner of The Neighborhood bar. I’m deeply in love with Valerie Dubois, in a way that shocks the town of Mercy.

  And I don’t mind it at all.

  I never thought that I would have a girlfriend, let alone be living with a woman in this capacity, but now I cannot envision my life any different.

  Dear Friends,

  Thank you so much for your support. If you enjoyed this book, please sign up for my newsletters so you can be in the know when a new book comes out, or if you just want to hear me ramble about nonsense.

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  Please check out my website at: WWW.TARRAHANDERS.COM

  I hope that in some shape or form you felt connected to my characters, I strive to have my stories be as relatable as possible, and not too outrageous. The sole purpose for me to bring my friends these stories is to feel like that too can be you.

  That being said, I write to make you happy. I wouldn’t be able to do so without your feedback. Whether if you leave a review on Goodreads & amazon (Please do that would be spectacular) or if you feel like shooting me a message at: tarrah.anders@gmail.com . I would love to hear from you.

  All my best,

  Smooches ~ Tarrah

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to sincerely thank Authors Jess Bryant and Maren Lee for cheering me on with my ridiculous idea for adding more to my 2019 release plan.

  On a whim, Jess made me covers for the entire series and without her doing so, none of The Neighborhood series would be coming to fruition.

  Blame her. I do!

  About the Author

  I am a contemporary romance author who is all about the feels, with the twists of sexy mixed in between. I have been writing since before I can remember. Writing has always been a passion, that was kept it under wraps, stayed on the back-burner and never vocalized or followed through with my desire to be a writer, until I read a horrible book and thought: ‘I could do better than that!’

  I am originally from the San Francisco Bay Area, but living in beautiful San Diego with my little family while working during the day as a social worker working with the homeless.

  In other words, I’m a freaking superhero!

  Also by Tarrah Anders

  THE ZONE SERIES

  The Friends Zone | The Crash Zone | The Office Zone

  THE MELTED SERIES

  Frozen Over |

  FROZE |

  Freezing

  THE NIGHT MOVES SERIES

  STRIPPED

  | The Night Manager | Tapped

  New Year, New You

  The Brute

  Summer Fling

  Coming Soon:

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