Betting the Bad Boy (Behind the Bar)

by Stefanie London

  “Then why didn’t you come back?”

  “I was so ashamed.” Her voice caught. “Out of everyone, you were the only person who kept saying ‘you can do it.’ That’s why I was so mad when you left. I thought we were a team.”

  “We are a team.” He stroked her hair.

  “It was different after you were gone, you know. After they caught Anthony dealing…” She swallowed. “Well, they shipped us both off to rehab. I know they tried calling you to say sorry…to say that you were right all along.”

  But he’d never taken their calls. Not once. Noah’s chest clenched.

  “Can’t you come tonight? It would make it so much easier if I had you there,” she pleaded.

  Was everyone conspiring to make him feel like a bastard today? “You know I can’t.”

  “I know you won’t,” she said with a sigh. “Ginnie said she wants you there. I know Megan would. And Bob and Marie—”

  “They’re not my parents,” he said. “They’re not my family anymore.”

  “You don’t stop being a family because things aren’t all hunky-dory, right? You told me that once.” She jabbed him in the chest. “And you said that we’re still family even though you left and I did some terrible things. So why is it different with them?”

  Because they were supposed to believe in him.

  It was bad enough that his own mother had left him behind and her family chose to let him go into the system. He had real grandparents and real aunts and uncles and real cousins out there. Somewhere. But they didn’t want him. They’d let him bounce around from family to family, only ever feeling settled when he’d landed with Bob and Marie and the girls. He’d believed, for the first time in his young, complicated life, that maybe he could be part of a family unit.

  But he’d been wrong then, too.

  Their rejection had stung the most because he’d gone against his beliefs to feed that little seed of hope in his chest. With them, he’d wanted it so fucking bad.

  “It just is,” he said. “Come on. We’re running late.”

  Noah’s stomach roiled as he turned onto the street he’d called home for seven years of his life. He hadn’t been back since the day he walked out. It was disturbingly unchanged. The house on the corner still had the overgrown bottlebrush shrub with the red flowers that reminded him of pot scrubbers. Two houses down from that still had the collection of tacky garden gnomes in the front yard.

  “Looks like the gnomes have been busy,” he said. “They’ve multiplied.”

  “Where the hell do they find those ugly things?” Amanda shook her head. “You know I ‘borrowed’ one once.”

  “Borrowed?” Noah raised his brow.

  “Yeah, I gave it back…eventually.” She grinned. “Not before I sent them a ransom note made out of letters I cut from Marie’s newspaper.”

  “That was you?” He threw his head back and laughed. “You know that kid down the street took the rap for it. They were convinced he’d done it.”

  His smile dissolved as they pulled up to his former foster parents’ house. Bob had given the place a new coat of paint—revived the previously robin’s-egg blue weatherboards to a more modern-looking cream. The garden was still the same, as was the letterbox that resembled a birdhouse.

  The car rolled to a stop, but he didn’t dare turn the engine off. His chest was heavy, as though his heart had been replaced by rocks. It took him by surprise. He thought he’d done a better job at burying all those old, ugly emotions.

  “You’re not even going to turn the car off for one second?” Amanda shook her head. “Come in and say hello. You don’t have to stay long.”

  “Amanda, we talked—”

  “Please.” She reached out and interlaced her fingers with his. “I don’t want to go in there alone.”

  For a moment he could have sworn that they were kids again, and she was curled up on the couch next to him. She hadn’t interacted much with anyone for the first year, but she’d gravitated toward him for some reason. God only knew why. If anyone in the house was ever looking for Amanda, the first place they’d check was Noah’s side.

  “Please.” She squeezed his hand, and he felt it all the way deep in his chest. “You don’t have to stay, just walk me inside.”

  A memory socked him in the chest—Amanda sobbing on his bed as he’d packed his bags. Her large brown eyes had been red and raw, her voice all scratched up and worn out from pleading with him not to go.

  “Fine,” he said, shutting off the engine as he swallowed against the lump in his throat. “I’ll walk you in, but then I’m going.”

  She released his hand, shoving the car door open before he could change his mind. The summer air was warm on his skin as he stepped out onto the nature strip, the grass spongy beneath his feet. The scent of jasmine hit his nose from the front garden, pushing the past to the front of his mind. Strangling him with memories.

  Amanda came up beside him and slipped her hand into his. “Ready?”

  “No.”

  They started up the path, and a minute later the door swung open. Marie stepped onto the porch, backlit by the light from inside the house. Was it Noah’s imagination, or did he hear her breath catch?

  The sight of his former foster mother twisted in his gut. She still wore the same blue-and-pink apron, though it was more frayed that he remembered. Her curly dark hair was dusted with silver strands, the lines around her mouth deeper. But her eyes were the same—light, faded blue so similar to his that at one time he’d pretended that she was his real mother.

  “Noah,” she said.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not staying. Just making sure Amanda got here safely.” He cleared his throat.

  Marie ignored his attempt at putting up barriers and charged toward him with a force that belied her tiny stature. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but he stood stock still, rooted to the ground, as she got closer and closer.

  “My boy.” She threw her arms around him and squeezed so hard that the breath stilled in Noah’s lungs. “You’re home.”

  …

  “It’s good to be back.” Des Chapman slid into the booth, a wide smile on his face.

  “Bullshit.” Noah grinned. “You’ve been drinking cocktails and lounging by the pool for a month. Why the hell would you want to come back?”

  “Would you believe there’s only so long I can do that without feeling like I’m going to lose my mind?”

  “Actually, I would.” Noah rolled his eyes and laughed. “Bloody workaholic. How’s Gracie?”

  “Good. Morning sickness seems to have slowed down, which is good. I hated seeing her like that.” He frowned. “Every time she coughed I started worrying if something was wrong. Turns out I’m more paranoid about the whole pregnancy thing than she is.”

  Envy coiled in Noah’s gut. He hated feeling like that—because Des and Gracie were good people who deserved good things. They deserved a perfectly healthy little baby and all the joy that should go along with parenthood.

  That’s not for you, remember?

  Last night, when he’d let himself get roped into dinner, Bob and Marie had asked about his life. Was he still working with Des? Did he have a wife? A girlfriend? What were his plans for the future?

  Yes. Hell, no. Nope and nothing. For once, he hadn’t been happy with those answers.

  “I’m sure that’s normal with the first one,” Noah said.

  “I’m sure I’ll be like it with all the subsequent ones, too.” Des grinned.

  “You planning on having a whole football team?” He shook his head. “Of course you are. You’re Italian.”

  “Damn straight.” Des paused as Pip brought over their coffees and lunch. He pushed the folders and his laptop out of the way to accommodate the food. “So, how have you been?”

  “I saw Bob and Marie last night.” The words slipped out before he could even think about whether or not he wanted to talk about it.

  Des raised a brow. “How did it go?”

  �
�It was weird…but also it felt like I was going home.” He reached for his coffee and took a sip, trying to sift through his thoughts. “Amanda roped me into going to see them with her. Something about making peace with the past.”

  Funny, he’d never considered the past something he needed to make peace with. It was nothing more than a collection of items boxed up and tucked away—like unwanted Christmas presents that no one had the heart to throw out. Not something that required revisiting, or so he’d thought.

  “I don’t know how I feel about it,” he added. “I can’t say everything is all sunshine and rainbows now. I mean, one dinner won’t erase what happened.”

  “But?”

  “They’ve clearly been feeling bad about how we ended things.”

  “I think they have for a while. They’ve been trying to contact you for years,” Des pointed out. “Why mend that bridge now?”

  “I don’t know.”

  It could have been any number of reasons—Amanda turning up and showing him that she’d changed. Ginnie landing her dream job in Sydney. Megan falling madly in love and making success on her own.

  Or maybe it was Paige. You felt something with her that you haven’t felt in a long time…a connection. A reason to want more.

  It hadn’t occurred to him until last night that by locking himself into what he saw as a stable life—his own home, a job he was good at, hiding behind solid emotional barriers—that he was clinging to the past instead of moving on from it. His life had barely changed from the moment he went out on his own. He never shared it with anyone, never shared his home or his heart.

  He was stuck, and he wouldn’t move forward until he started taking risks. Until he started letting people get close to him.

  “Do you think you’ll see them again?” Des asked.

  “Hard to say.” That was the automatic response, shrugging off commitment. He swallowed. “But I’d like to.”

  “Good for you, mate.” Des nodded. “That’s awesome.”

  “We’ll see what it is. I’m not expecting anything from it because there’s a lot of water under the bridge.” Pause. “But I figure it’s time to get my shit together.”

  For so long he’d thought he did have his shit together—for a guy with a stunted education and a shitty upbringing, he’d done okay. He paid his bills on time and took care of himself. But would he be happy saying the same thing in five years? Ten? Fifty?

  Did he want to be an old guy who lived on his own and owed nothing to anyone?

  “How did everything go while I was away?” Des asked, taking a bite of his panini and reaching for his laptop. “Paul told me you hired someone but that they finished up already, is that right?”

  “Yeah, she, uh…moved back to the country.” He cleared his throat, his appetite waning. “Unfortunately.”

  Unfortunately? She moved because you were too chickenshit to man up and give things a go with her. But Paige hadn’t wanted to give things a go; she’d wanted him to go all in. And that was scary as hell.

  “And everything else?” Des asked.

  “Fine. We had some challenges with the roster because Pip’s son was sick for a few days, but we made it work.”

  “Sounds like everything ran smoothly.”

  Noah nodded. “Yeah, it did.”

  “And it sounds to me like you could probably manage a place like First full time.” Des looked at him pointedly.

  Noah had known this moment would come. He saw through Des’s casual let’s get lunch the second the words were out of his mouth—this wasn’t a catch-up between friends. It was a job offer. More pay, more responsibility. More opportunity to disappoint.

  He hadn’t been pleased at Des’s asking him to run the place in his absence, knowing full well his friend was trying him out for bigger things. He’d always worried that one day his performance on the job might harm one of the most important friendships in his life.

  But that day hasn’t come in four years. Not once have you let him down.

  “The Docklands location won’t be big,” Des said. “It’ll be the manager, someone in the kitchen, and someone out front, to start. At least until we know if we can get enough customers through the door. I’d give you full responsibility for hiring your team—”

  “Okay.” Noah stuck his hand out before fear could yank the acceptance back. “I’ll do it.”

  A grin broke out over Des’s face, and he shook Noah’s hand. “I was sure you were going to turn me down.”

  “If you’d come back last week I probably would have,” he said. “But I’m ready for more.”

  Ready for more.

  It wasn’t something he ever thought he’d say, let alone genuinely feel. For the first time in years he wanted to grab life by the balls and show it who was boss. As Des talked animatedly about his plans for the new location, Noah could only think about one thing: Paige.

  In only a month the gorgeous, pushy, ambitious country girl had turned him upside down and inside out. She’d shown him what could be. Could he guarantee the future? Only if he stayed stagnant.

  And that meant one thing: he had an apology to make.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Paige groaned at the freeway. She’d missed a hell of a lot of things about Melbourne in the two weeks that she’d been home, but traffic was not one of them. However, for her best friend’s housewarming party she’d do anything to be there, even brave psychotic city drivers.

  The party wasn’t due to start for another few hours, but she’d decided to come down early and have lunch with Libby. Much to Paige’s delight, they’d kept in touch—texting and chatting on the phone every couple of days. Although it’d only been a short time, Paige knew the makings of a lifelong friendship when saw it.

  Not that she’d been able to avoid the fleeting hope every time her phone rang that it might be Noah. To date, he hadn’t called or texted.

  Paige had been helping out at her parents’ café and generally having some emotional and mental downtime. When she’d first arrived home, her family had been thrilled to see her. Hugs and kisses had abounded, and praise had been unloaded. But her mother had pulled her aside after dinner and asked her why she’d really come home. Because, according to Maisie Thomas, her daughter was not a quitter.

  But Paige hadn’t quit. She was simply taking time to reevaluate her position. Like any good student, she knew that doing the same thing over and over wouldn’t yield different results. So it was time to take a step back and look long and hard at what she was doing. Or what she should be doing.

  Her last conversation with Noah had been percolating in the back of her mind. Specifically, his comment that she set people up for failure. At the time, it’d been a hard thing to hear, but the more she thought about it, the more she wondered if it was true. Hell, she certainly felt like she set herself up for failure with her unyielding standards and refusal to deviate from her plans.

  Maybe her lack of success on the job front was the universe trying to tell her something. That perhaps she should slow down and enjoy life a little more, that maybe it was okay not to be perfect all the time.

  She flicked the indicator and took the exit for Kings Way, following the loop around until she found herself back in South Melbourne. Her brother had agreed to lend her his car for the weekend in exchange for unlimited babysitting the following week. She’d been only too happy to agree. But as much as it had been nice to spend time with her family, driving back through the streets of South Melbourne reminded her that this was where she wanted to be.

  Her phone buzzed in the holder attached to her window, and she tapped the answer button. “Hello?”

  “Are you close by?” Libby’s voice came through the phone speaker, since her brother’s car was too old and crappy to hook the phone up to the car’s sound system. “I’m so excited to see you. It feels like you’ve been gone for ages!”

  “I know.” Paige paused at a red light. “I’m about five minutes away.”

  “Okay, great. Park
in the visitor spot and I’ll come down to meet you, so you can dump your stuff before we get lunch.”

  “Thanks again for letting me crash.”

  “My pleasure. No point wasting money on a hotel room. They’re too expensive.”

  Libby was right. And since Paige was trying to figure out her next move, being sensible with money was an imperative. In the last two weeks, she’d continued to hunt for jobs and submit her résumé to recruiters. Nothing had yet come of it, but she remained hopeful…and she hadn’t been beating herself up every time a rejection came through. Her new motto was that it would take as long as it took. No amount of stressing or cursing would change her ability to get hired, so she was taking it easy.

  You’re one inspirational quote from becoming a full-blown flower child.

  She smirked at her reflection in the rearview mirror. Too right. For the first time, Paige felt at ease with her current situation. It wasn’t ideal, and it wasn’t on her plan. But that was okay by her. She’d make it work. And in the meantime, if she had to take a job as a barista to make ends meet, then so be it.

  She’d fessed up to her parents about working at First and, much to her surprise, they’d supported the decision. Instead of berating her lying and failing, they’d admired that she was so tenacious. That she’d found a way to keep going in the face of less-than-perfect circumstances. That, apparently, was the “Thomas way” according to her mother.

  “I’m pulling into the car park now,” Paige said. “See you in a minute.”

  Half an hour later, Paige and Libby were walking through Docklands on their way to lunch. The sun beat down, but a cool breeze blew in off the river and whipped their hair around. Being a weekend, the place wasn’t busy despite being a stone’s throw from the city. They were on a mission to check out the spot for Des’s new branch of First.

  “It’s built up a lot over the past few years, but it’s still mostly busy Monday to Friday,” Libby explained. “There are a lot of office towers around, like the ANZ building there”—she pointed—“and the Wentworth Group head office, there.”