She took cover behind the bar where she’d be able to keep herself busy washing glasses and restocking supplies with limited customer interaction for a while. Noticing the garnishes needed refreshing, she grabbed several limes and began slicing them into even sections. Erin, the young owner of the pub and an old high school friend, emerged from the back room and joined Trish.
“Hey, hon, how you holding up?” Erin shot her a brief concerned look as she grabbed two used glasses, dipped them into the deep sink of hot, soapy water then into the sanitized water before setting them on the drying rack.
Shrugging a shoulder, Trish said, “I’m fine. Still readjusting to small town life.”
She kept her focus on dividing the limes perfectly. Unlike how her life had been divided up by her break up with Nick. It’d been like a divorce where he had a high-powered attorney and she a public defender in a cheap suit. Nick got their apartment in Astoria, all of their new furniture—which she’d bought because her credit was better—and all of their friends.
Then, as if losing all that hadn’t been a big enough kick in the junk, she’d lost her aesthetician business. She’d been so proud of herself, taking the leap to start her own company. She worked hard to grow her clientele and earned a reputation as one of the leading aestheticians in Queens. Clients traveled from other Burroughs and even New Jersey because they preferred her to anyone else.
But when everything else fell down around her, she had to sell her business. Though it felt like blood money, she deposited the entire amount into a new savings account where it would stay, untouched. Hence, her need for the tiny wages and fluctuating tips of this job to cover the only bill she currently had, her cell phone, and she insisted on paying something to Rhianna for letting her stay with them. The money she made from selling her business would be her startup stash for her new location. It’d cover any moving costs, security deposit, and rent and utilities for a few months.
All she needed now was a clue as to where she should make all that happen.
***
What a shitty day. If there was ever a night Tony DiAngelo needed to have a beer or ten, it was this one. Not only had the day job exhausted him—trying to get middle schoolers to pay attention three weeks before summer break was a teacher's Mission: Impossible—but on his way to coach his soccer team, old Mrs. Danvers t-boned him and messed up the passenger side of his car. After dealing with the headache of talking to the police and his insurance company, he finally arrived at the game only to find his co-ed kindergarteners acting like there was a full moon, officially making his day one big clusterfuck.
Tony pulled the heavy wooden door open and stepped into his favorite place to wind down with friends after hours. Paddy's was one of those places that everyone frequented on a regular basis, despite its small size that made it cramped as hell during the busy hours. No one cared, though. The original owners were townies and recently handed the business over to their daughter and her husband, both of whom Tony had gone to school with. There were plenty of other great local hangouts in Fort Atkinson, but none of them matched the atmosphere of Paddy's.
Jason, Tony's good friend and the ref for the youth soccer games, tapped him on the arm with the back of his hand. "Hey, order me a beer, would ya? I see someone I need to say hello to."
Tony watched Jason walk through the crowd to the table where the girl he'd been trying to date for months sat with her friends. Tony had to give the man credit for his extreme tenacity. The girl always shot him down, but Jason insisted she was warming up to him.
Grabbing a rare open seat at the far end of the sturdy counter that ran the length of the room, Tony looked for the closest bartender to help make the end of his night bearable. A brunette with a killer body was working all the way at the other end. Tony’s starved libido woke up and yanked on its short tether. It’d been a long time since he’d been tempted to unleash it, but from what he could see, this girl could tempt him straight to hell and he wouldn’t give a damn.
Her black leggings left only the color of her skin to the imagination. They flaunted every delicious curve from hip to calf where her tall black boots took over. Instead of the dark green Paddy’s t-shirt the employees were typically outfitted in, she wore a pink shirt so thin that her black tank underneath showed through and hung off her right shoulder. Lazy dark brown curls swung over her back, but flashes of them raked up by his fingers or maybe wrapped around his hand flooded his mind.
Christ, if he kept this up, the bar wouldn’t be the only hard wood in the place. How long had it been since he’d had sex? A year? Too long, obviously. Now he understood why people who were lost in the desert saw visions of pools of cool water. Imaginations were cruel bastards.
So who the hell was she? Erin must have hired her recently, yet she didn’t act like a new hire, on edge and unsure of herself. She moved easily in the space and mixed drinks instinctively, her hands doing all the work as she talked with the customers.
"Did you win the big game tonight, Coach?"
Pulled from his thoughts, Tony turned to his friend and owner of Paddy’s as she placed a Point Beer in front of him. "Hey, Erin. Thanks," he said before taking several long pulls on the longneck. The taste of his favorite beer washed some of the day’s irritations away, and after draining half the bottle, he released a grateful sigh.
“That bad, huh?" she asked.
He shrugged. “The first half was good.” Erin attended a lot of the games because her niece was on his team, so she knew how things could go from calm to crazy to tears all in a matter of minutes. “But somewhere in the third quarter, I lost them. A boy from the other team bumped into Jessica so she shoved him into a mud puddle. Then I saw Sophia whisper something to Scottie in the huddle. She giggled, he blushed, and the next thing I know, he’s picking dandelion bouquets to give her instead of protecting the goal.”
Pausing in her wipe down of the perfectly clean counter, she clutched the damp towel to her chest and went full-on girly. “Oh my God, that’s so cute. He’s a doll, that Scottie.”
Tony rolled his eyes. “Not cute. With Scottie playing Romeo the whole second half, the Mighty Minnows beat the Shark Bytes, which is doubly embarrassing because of the names.” He pointed an accusing finger at Erin. “Romance has no place on the battlefield, woman. If I didn’t know better, I’d say Sophia took a bribe to throw the game.”
“And what sort of bribe does a five-year-old little girl in pigtails take, exactly?”
Tony’s face grew solemn. “Pudding cups.” Erin laughed and tossed the rag at him, which he caught before it hit his face. “I’m serious. Have you seen the crazed look she gets in her eyes when the parents bring pudding cups as a snack after a game? It’s not pretty. I think she has a pudding problem.”
Sliding off the stool, Tony winked and drank the rest of his beer. Joking around with Erin and getting his first alcoholic beverage under his belt had lifted his mood considerably.
“Pretend all you want, Tony DiAngelo, but everyone knows you’re crazy about those kids.”
He sighed dramatically. “Yeah. Those pint-sized gremlins own my ass, and they know it. They’ve completely destroyed my tough-guy rep, but I suppose it doesn’t matter since no one passes their inspection anyway.”
He’d been trying to make a joke, but it fell flat, deflating into a sad lump at his feet. Erin placed a hand over his and squeezed. “There are worse traits than having a weak spot for kindergarteners, Tony. Personally, I think it’s sexy and heart-melting, and the right woman will think so, too.”
What was that saying girls had? The good ones are taken and the rest are all gay. Tony wondered if it worked the same way for women. Sometimes it felt like it, especially when one of the good ones—Erin—said things like that. By her reasoning, his ex-fiancée hadn’t been one of the good ones. It bothered her that he put so much time and energy into coaching the youth soccer and tee ball teams. She never quite “got” his passion for inspiring and teaching kids a love of sports, and va
lues like teamwork and good sportsmanship, just like his coaches had done for him his whole life.
When she left him, he’d been devastated. But it didn’t take him long to realize she’d done them both a favor. They weren’t good together. He hadn’t even loved her as much as he should for a woman he planned to spend his life with.
Leaning over the bar, Tony kissed Erin’s cheek. She was a great friend, and he was glad he decided to go out with Jason tonight instead of heading home to channel surf and settle for leftovers. Tony pulled a few bills from his wallet and handed them to Erin. “I’ll take two Points to go and then we’ll need another round whenever you get a chance to toss in an order of your famous cheese curds.”
“You got it. I’ll put the order in now and bring it back in a few.”
“No rush.” He started to leave, but then turned around at the last second. He had a better idea. “Actually,” he said with a smile, “can you send the new girl back? I’d like to introduce myself and give her a proper welcome to Paddy’s. You know how I hate being rude.”
Erin’s eyebrows shot up. “The new girl?” Her eyes bounced between him and the girl in question still working the other end of the dimly lit bar. “You mean that new girl?”
Tony countered with an arched brow of his own and crossed his arms over his chest. He wondered at her hesitation. She’d made “introductions” for him plenty of times, whether he asked her to or not. Erin was a notorious matchmaker, especially with her friends. “I don’t know how many you’ve hired recently, but yes, that one with the amazing ass, is who I’m referring to. Is she dating someone already?”
“No,” she said carefully. Erin popped the top on a longneck and slid it to a customer a few feet away. Then she did the same thing on two more and set them in front of Tony. “But she is coming out of a bad breakup, plus that’s Tr—”
“Perfect,” he said, thumping the bar with his hands for emphasis. “She needs a third-party friend to take her out and get her mind off things. Isn’t that what you told me when you asked me to go out with Julia last year? Look how well that turned out.”
Erin’s cousin, Julia, had gone through a similar situation. After quite a bit of begging from Erin, he agreed to go out with Julia to get her mind off her ex. His biggest concern had been Julia misunderstanding the situation. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her unintentionally, but he’d had his own shitty breakup behind him, and he didn’t want anything serious. Then or now.
But he had to admit, it’d worked out great. He and Julia enjoyed a couple months of adult fun together and before long, she cut him loose and reentered the dating game. Now Tony was going to be an usher in her wedding to a surgeon who worshipped the ground she walked on.
“All right, I’ll send her over,” she said with a devious grin. “Good luck, hot shot.”
“No such thing as luck, Erin. You either got it, or you don’t.” Tony snagged the open beers and started to back away from the counter with a big grin, pointing to his chest. “And I’ve got lots of it.”
Erin laughed and tossed her final retort over her shoulder as she turned to the register. “Good thing, ‘cause you’re gonna need it.”
Tony and Jason sat at a small table against the back wall, swapping stories about their students—Jason taught Phys Ed at the middle school—and trying to one-up each other, as usual. About ten minutes later, Tony felt a presence behind his right shoulder. Assuming it was another customer milling around, he didn’t pay any attention until a hand with French manicured nails reached around him to place two bottles of Point on the table.
New girl. He smirked to himself, wondering how he could’ve forgotten about the brown-haired beauty tasked with bringing him their next round. Anxious to finally see her up close, he turned to look over his shoulder, but all he saw was her left hand spread beneath the round tray she held. He scowled when he realized she couldn’t get to the side of their table because of two guys animatedly sharing a story with their friends at the next table over.
Tony studied his friend’s face to gauge his interest since he had a clear view of the woman. Oh, he had plenty of interest. Too much. The guy was working his lady-killer smile, and for the first time, Tony had the urge to punch the man in his pretty face. Tony had dibs, damn it, he’d seen her first.
Shit, maybe he shouldn’t try to impress a woman immediately after being with his kids. Their laws and brand of justice seemed to rub off on him.
Once she placed the basket of cheese curds and two small plates in the middle of their table, she started to lower the now-empty tray and asked, “Anything else I can get you guys?”
She’d barely finished her question when one of the drunks next to her side-stumbled, pushing her right onto Tony. He’d seen it in time and twisted his body, catching her to prevent her from falling completely over. She smelled amazing, something floral and exotic and oddly familiar, but he didn’t have time to analyze it or enjoy how her soft hips felt in his hands before she pushed off of him with an unnecessary apology.
The guy who’d caused the incident, however, hadn’t stopped bitching about the beer he’d sloshed onto himself and demanded she get him a free replacement. Tony’s temper flared like a match struck to life. If there was anything he couldn’t abide, it was misogynistic assholes without a chivalrous bone in their bodies.
He scraped back his chair, unfolded to his full six-foot-three-inches, and stepped well into the jerk’s personal space. Like all good friends, Jason did the same from the other side, arms crossed and ready to back him up if need be. Wanting to keep the situation contained for Erin’s sake, Tony kept his voice low, but made sure it conveyed every bit of his irritation.
“Apologize to her.”
“For what?” the man demanded with indignance.
“For not watching where you were going, for being an asshole, or because if you don’t, I’m going to take you out the back door and make you wish you had.” He shrugged. “Your pick.”
Anger at being dressed down in front of his friends sparked in the man’s eyes, but Tony had at least five inches and fifty pounds on the guy, so he wasn’t about to act on it. At least he wasn’t a stupid asshole.
“It’s fine,” she said at his side. “Accidents happen. Let’s not make a big deal out of it, okay?”
Something about her voice revved Tony’s engine something fierce, but he pushed it aside until he handled this. “No, it’s not okay,” he said. “When a man fucks up, he apologizes. Now, are you a man, or aren’t you?”
Glancing over, the ass finally caved with a stiff nod in her direction. “It was my fault. I’m sorry.” His eyes swung back to Tony for approval. Tony gave him a chin lift and a look that suggested he make himself scarce. The man turned and trailed after his friend through the bar and out the door. Tony hadn’t meant for him to leave, but fine by him.
“I appreciate your sense of honor—even if it is a tad extreme—but you didn’t have to do that,” she said. “I’m not the distressed damsel type, and drunk assholes come with the job. They don’t bother me.”
That voice. Why did it make him so— Finally, Tony turned to get his first real look at the new girl and froze. His brain short-circuited, his limbs atrophied, and the thoughts whipping around in his head refused to make their way out of his damn face hole.
Trish Howell.
“Holy shit, Tony?” Her eyes opened wide in mutual shock, but apparently he was the only one who’d gone catatonic. Awesome. She’d be impressed by that for sure.
Trish fucking Howell. She was more beautiful than he remembered. Olive skin, perfectly arched eyebrows, almond-shaped eyes the color of dark chocolate, and full pink lips that stretched into a brilliant smile that made him feel like the only man in a room.
He'd had it bad for her since the third grade when he’d taken her softball glove away from her and she kicked him in the shin for the offense. By the end of recess they’d become friends, but that shin-kick had started a decade-long crush on one of his closest
school friends.
Not that she knew that, of course. Not for sure anyway. Plenty of people teased them over the years—especially Trish’s oldest sister, Rhianna, who enjoyed threatening to break his fingers if he ever made a move on her. But the threats had been moot. Trish had kept him firmly in the friend zone, and he’d been too much of a wuss to tell her how he felt, so in friend zone he’d stayed.
At last, Tony mentally slapped himself out of his shock. Go, him. Giving her a warm smile, he said, “Little Trish Howell, how the hell are ya? What’s it been now, five years since you’ve been back home?”
“I’m just peachy, thanks. And you can’t call me little if I’m four months older than you.”
He didn’t miss the fact she’d avoided his second question, but he left it alone and winked at her. “Not referring to your age, short-stack.”
Trish narrowed her eyes. “I seem to remember we were still the same height at graduation, then I came back for Christmas a couple years later and you’re suddenly freakishly tall.”
He chuckled. “I told you my family has a history of being late bloomers.”
She snorted, and it was kind of adorable. “Late bloomers, my ass. It’s no wonder I didn’t recognize you. Obviously you paid another visit to whatever mad scientist keeps altering your appearance.”
Tony leaned one arm on the table, to lower his height a bit and because the closed distance gave him a more up-close view of her cleavage. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, please. You're huge."
“Ah, the two little words every man wants to hear,” Jason teased. “Even though she’s clearly exaggerating in your case.”
Without taking his eyes from the now-laughing woman in front of him, Tony raised his free arm and flipped his friend off.
"Not like that. I mean, no offense, Tony; I don’t know if you are or not.” Both men opened their mouths—though probably not to say the same thing—but she quickly held her hands up to stop them. “I don’t need to know either, boys. I was talking about your body. Your body got huge. Okay, now it just sounds weird every time I say the word ‘huge.’ You know what I mean, though, right? Last time I saw you, you weren’t so…"
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