by M. E. Carter
“I’m surprised his dad didn’t put up a fight when you moved here. Or does he live in the area?”
I stiffen at the reminder. It’s an innocent question and one I should have expected at some point, but it still catches me off guard. Spence’s death is a topic I prefer not to think much about. Actually, Spence’s life is not something I like to think about either. But I suppose there’s no harm in telling Paul the truth. It’s not like Spence is here to argue semantics. “Carson’s dad died in a car accident a couple of months before he was born.”
Paul’s eyes soften and I know he thinks he struck a nerve. He did, but not in the way he thinks. “I’m sorry. That must have been tough. To lose him like that.”
I shrug. I should feel sadness that Spence is gone, or at least sadness for my son who will never know his father. But after finding out things weren’t what they seemed between us, and the shit show that followed for the three years after, I stopped being sad. As guilty as it makes me feel, which isn’t much, I’m more relieved that Carson will never be raised in such a deceptive environment.
Crossing my arms, I carefully answer him. “Yes, but not really for the reasons you think.”
“What does that mean?”
Sharing all my dirty laundry isn’t high on my priority list, but something about Paul makes me feel safe. Like he won’t judge me. Or maybe he will, but he still won’t treat me any differently. Besides, Paul’s been around for a long time. He knows the shit on everyone. Hell, he’s a bartender by trade. I’m sure he’s heard worse. Might as well lay it all out there.
Taking a deep breath, I begin the story. “He wasn’t alone in the car.”
“Was he with a friend or something?”
“He was with his fiancée.”
I can tell by the look on Paul’s face, he’s deducing the wrong way regarding my involvement in the matter. While a false conclusion shouldn’t matter, I don’t want him making assumptions about me either. So, I clarify.
“A fiancée I didn’t know he had.”
Paul’s face changes to a look of surprise, probably not unlike mine when I found out at his funeral that I wasn’t his girlfriend. I was his side piece. An inconvenience his parents were trying to keep hidden and eventually rid themselves of. There’s nothing like being escorted out of a funeral while you’re seven months pregnant thanks to the deceased, to make it clear how absolutely unimportant you are.
“Her name was Blaire. She and I never crossed paths. We ran in different circles, so neither of us had any idea about the other. Or at least I assume she didn’t know about me since she was radio silent about me being pregnant. It wasn’t until Spence died, well they died, that I found out he had no intention of being with me.”
“Wait… what? He didn’t…”
I shake my head sadly. “Nope. Spence had been engaged to her for over a year, a match both sets of parents approved of long before they started dating. I guess it’s a socialite thing or something. Because of the merger between two families and their corporations, me getting pregnant was a bigger problem than he let on. Apparently, he was stringing me along until he could figure out how to get rid of us. I didn’t know any of this until I showed up at the funeral and was promptly confronted by his mother who was pissed.”
“Hold on. She was mad the mother of her grandchild showed up at her son’s funeral?”
I laugh humorlessly. “Mad is an understatement. She had security discreetly escort me out the back door, after she threatened to sue me for slander if I breathed a word of the pregnancy to the other family members. Said it was bad enough that Spence hadn’t yet followed through on his promise to get rid of us.”
“Holy shit. But you’re sure he’s the bad guy in this?”
“Positive. I ran into one of his “bros” out back. He had a lot of text exchanges to show me verifying everything she said.” I sniff and look at the floor, holding my anger at bay. There’s no reason to rile myself up again. It’s over. Good riddance to all of them, even if I still kick myself for falling for his game. “I sure know how to pick ‘em, right?”
Paul lets out a breath like he’s not sure what the right answer is. “It sounds more like he was a master manipulator. I just can’t wrap my brain around it. Like maybe his friend was wrong, too.”
“Considering his family trip to the Bahamas was actually spent with her on a pre-wedding planning vacation a month before they died, I think it’s a pretty safe bet he was getting ready to dump me. Who knows? Maybe he was just going to keep up with the two lives bit.”
“Ohmygod,” Paul says and rubs his hand down his face, like this information is too much for even him to process. I know the feeling. “You would think that his mom would have latched onto you, being that Carson is the only part of her son left in the world.”
“Oh noooooo.” I shake my head exaggeratedly. “Quite the contrary. When I went to quietly apply for survivor’s benefits to help with Carson’s care, she sent an attorney to block it in court. It should have been a no-brainer. He is the only survivor of Spence. But instead, there they were, claiming there was no proof Carson was his and therefore the state shouldn’t have to pay any support.”
Paul’s jaw drops. “What the hell? Couldn’t they do a DNA test?”
“Sure. Except her attorney took advantage of a notoriously slow court system and kept finding ways to make it hard to access any DNA.”
“I…” Paul stumbles over his words, likely trying to process all this information. “I don’t know what to say.”
I shrug. I wouldn’t say I’m necessarily over it. You don’t just get over something like that. You do, however, move on.
“Survivors benefits mean a paper trail. Gotta make sure the other family never finds out about the bastard child or else it could cause problems with the companies and their shareholders, right?”
“But… what about Carson?”
I just nod. He’s likely feeling a small portion of the indignation I felt the first two and a half years of Carson’s life.
“The court saw through all that right?” Paul practically pleads. “Told her to fuck off or whatever and gave you the benefits?”
I shake my head slowly and Paul mutters a “shit,” likely as disappointed as I was.
“Her attorney just kept dragging it out. Two years later, I guess she’d had enough and came to me with an opportunity. Fifteen grand if I would disappear and never speak of Spence again.”
If it’s possible, Paul’s jaw falls even farther. “Please tell me you told her to fuck off.”
I sigh and shift my feet. This is the part of the story where I’m never quite sure if I made the right decision or not. Too late to question myself now. “Nope. I took the money and I moved here.”
He furrows his brow, obviously confused by my decision. “But… why?”
“It was a hard decision. Please don’t misunderstand that. But in the end, it was about Carson, not me and my pride or her and her deceptions. When I did the math knowing Spence had never really worked before, the money she offered me was significantly more than I would have gotten over the entire eighteen years and in a lump sum. It was enough to finally move here where my support system is and still have a little bit of a cushion.”
Paul shakes his head and I can’t tell if he’s disappointed in me or what. It doesn’t really matter. It was my decision to make and until he’s stuck in a situation where he’s trying to feed his child and keep a roof over his head, it’s not something he will ever be able to fully understand.
He finally looks at me, distress written all over his face, and in a few short seconds, he surprises the shit out of me by taking two steps forward and pulling me to his chest. His strong arms wrap around me and pull me even tighter to him, if that’s possible. My heart beats rapidly at the contact.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” he whispers into my hair and I can’t help myself. My arms wrap around his waist against my better judgment. This is my boss. I know I shouldn’t melt into him. But it fe
els good to have him hold me. Like I’m finally safe. Like I’m finally home.
I push my competing thoughts away and just revel in the most content feeling I’ve had in a while.
We stay like that for a few seconds until someone wolf whistles across the room and yells, “When you’re done with your canoodling, can ya bring me another fruity drink?”
I giggle and we slowly break apart.
“Sorry about that.” Paul takes two quick steps back and shoves his hands in his pockets. “That was, um… I crossed a line. You have my apologies.”
“Nothing to apologize for.” I quickly turn away not wanting him to see that I liked it a little more than I should have. “If anything, I should be apologizing to Dwayne for not keeping him hydrated.”
Paul chuckles, and the sound is even better than before, now that I know what it feels like to be pressed close to that chest. “Well, let him know I’ll pay closer attention next time.” Grabbing the ale from the fridge, he pops the top off and hands me the bottle. I slide under the counter and try to refocus on my job, but I already know it’s a futile attempt. My thoughts are going to stay solidly in the moment when Paul’s arms were wrapped around me and everything was right in my world.
Maybe it’s a good thing we don’t have many customers after all.
THIRTEEN
Paul
I have always wondered about Kiersten’s back story. I’ve noticed her exhaustion. Even when she smiles and hustles around the room, it sits behind her eyes.
When I met Carson the other day, I thought I had it figured out. Moms in general are exhausted. My own mother claims she never slept until her kids finally moved out of the house. She’s said more than once that she misses having a bustling household, but her body feels better than it ever did when everyone lived at home.
I also know they tend to do double duty from watching my mother after my douchebag of a father finally left us because of what disappointments we were to him. I assumed that’s what I was seeing in Kiersten. That the weight of the world she carries on her shoulders is the result of having to deal with a deadbeat dad. It turns out, there is so much more to the situation than I knew. It breaks my heart for her and makes me livid at the same time. Guys are such dicks. This is partially why I haven’t dated in a while. I never want to cause anyone to have that kind of sadness. Especially not if my interest level stayed mostly in the primal territory.
The other part is because I’ve been too busy working my ass off to succeed. Failure is not an option. My mom and I may not be super close, but she sacrificed too much for me not to make something of myself.
Still, even after our heart-to-heart when Kiersten bared some of her deepest shame to me, she got right back to work keeping our regulars happy. Maybe a little too happy if you ask me. That’s the primal side of me talking again.
Kiersten laughs as she spins on the dance floor, doing her best to two-step with Dwayne who is more than delighted to be her dance partner. I don’t blame him. If it wouldn’t be crossing yet another line, I’d be cutting in. But I’ve already pressed the boundaries once tonight.
The door opens and I instinctively call, “Welcome to Frui Vita.” And then I look up, surprised to see a familiar face as Heath sidles up to the bar and sits down.
“Hey man,” I greet excitedly as we shake hands. “What brings you to our neighborhood?”
“I’m friends with the owner,” he says with a relaxed smile. “I thought I’d swing by and grab that free drink offered me the other day.”
“You got it. What can I get ya?”
“Got any recommendations?”
“It’s gonna depend on if you want beer or liquor. Pick your poison and I’ll take it from there.”
He blows out a breath as he considers. “I think I’ll go for the hard stuff tonight.”
“Long day?”
He shakes his head and drops his shoulders. “I swear Carson is more exhausting than training camp.”
I can’t help laughing at his assessment. It was pretty hilarious watching a two-foot-tall kid drag this giant man around the other day.
Patting the bar with an “I got you covered”, I push off to grab Absinth, whiskey, and some bitters. I make quick work of mixing and pouring, then place it down in front of our newest customer.
“Mmmmmm,” he finally says with a lick of his lips. “That’s pretty smooth. What is it?”
“It’s called a Sazerac. Our regulars don’t stray much from beer so I don’t get to make it much. But I thought I remembered you drinking whiskey at the barbecue. I figured this might be something just different enough for a night out with friends. Or are you out by yourself tonight?”
He sips again before answering. “Nah. They’re on the way. You met a couple of the guys the other night. Alex and Frankie are definitely coming. They may have invited some more but I’m not sure. Should be here soon.”
“Nice,” I say with a genuine smile. Three new customers aren’t much, but it’s a start. “I appreciate you guys coming here.”
Heath swivels in his chair and chuckles under his breath when he sees Kiersten. “Why am I not surprised that one is cuttin’ a rug instead of serving drinks.”
“Hey, whatever keeps the customers content. And giving old Dwayne over there…” I tilt my chin in Dwayne’s direction, “…a little attention keeps him pretty damn happy.”
“I’m sure.” Heath laughs again. “He could do worse than a hot brunette who dances with him on her breaks.”
Yeah, he could. I can’t help but stop and watch as she moves on the dancefloor. She’s graceful and lithe. Her body instinctually finding the beat of some Top 40 hit as her arms flow elegantly above her head. I don’t even hear whatever song is playing, singularly focused on watching her.
Until a throat clears next to me.
“You could do worse than her, too.”
“Yeah.” It takes me a second to register his words. “Wait, what?” I quickly turn to decide if he just eluded to what I think he eluded to. Based on the eyebrow that’s raised and the way he won’t make eye contact with me, I think he did. I huff a small laugh. “She’s my employee, man. I couldn’t go there even if I wanted to.”
He turns and places the drink on the counter, leaning on his elbows and staring me straight in the eye. “But you want to.”
I open my mouth and close it again. You can’t bullshit a guy like Heath Germaine and I’ve been battling my own feelings for so long, I don’t really want to.
Instead, I sigh and look back at the woman I’ve been pining over as she smiles at her dance partner. “Who wouldn’t. She’s pretty damn special.”
“What’s stopping you?”
“I told you. She’s my employee. And she’s really young.”
“Age is just a number and Kiersten’s got an old soul. And don’t even get me started on office romances. They happen all the time. Haven’t you ever seen the Hallmark channel? Office romance is everywhere. This is just an unconventional office.”
I flip the towel off my shoulder and begin wiping down the bar. It’s already spotless, but I need to do something with my hands. “I just took over this place a few months ago. I don’t want to get a reputation for dating my staff. And I really don’t want any drama if things go south. The last thing I need is to drive customers away like that.”
Heath downs the rest of his drink and gestures for another. “Kiersten has already had her fair share of drama. The last person who you have to worry about that with is her.”
“That’s exactly my point.” I grab the liquor I need again and begin mixing. “After everything that went on before, she doesn’t need some old guy like me creating more problems for her.”
Heath cocks his head to the side. “She told you.”
I shrug. “Didn’t know it was a secret.”
“It’s not. But she prefers to keep it under wraps since people tend to assume things about her the second they find out about the fiancée.”
Guilt hits me in
the gut, knowing I was one of those people. It was only for a second, but it still wasn’t my finest moment.
“She must trust you if she told you the whole story. And she doesn’t trust a lot of people. Take that for what it’s worth.”
I nod in understanding and finish making his Sazerac. He sips and sighs with contentment remarking again on how smooth it is. I do a quick check to make sure I have enough liquor to make several more of those. If more whiskey drinkers are coming, I need to be ready.
A few minutes and some small talk later, the woman in question comes bounding up to the bar.
Shoving Heath playfully, she asks, “What are you doing here? Aren’t you babysitting tonight?”
He just shakes his head. “Your kid is killing me.”
She huffs. “Oh please. You’re the one who spoils him rotten. You created the little monster.”
“I did. And I have no regrets. But when Annika showed up at my house, I took the opportunity to leave for a while. This is the longest I’ve sat down all day.”
Kiersten squeezes his shoulder in a gesture of their close friendship. I have an odd feeling of gratitude toward him for taking care of this amazing woman and her child.
“Poor baby,” she chides. “The big bad football player being run ragged by a toddler.”
“Thank you for your sympathy,” he responds dryly.
“I hope my child hasn’t driven you to drink alone. That’s not good for you.”
“Actually, I’m waiting for a couple of friends.”
“Speaking of,” I interject. “I need to grab another couple of bottles out of the back. Can you keep an eye on things up here for a second, Kiersten?”
“Sure.” She slides under the counter, still bantering back and forth with her friend.
I take the few free minutes I have to use the facilities and grab a couple of bottles of the higher end liquor. This may be the only time we get some people with money in this place and I don’t want to let them down by serving the cheap stuff.
By the time I get back, two men I recognize from our brief introductions at the barbecue have arrived. Kiersten already has them served and they seem to be enjoying themselves.
