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Wasted

Page 12

by Suzannah Daniels


  Stooping down to pick it up, I flipped it over. It was a receipt dated yesterday for one thousand dollars made payable to Rachel Cambridge. I remembered Mason mentioning that he had wired money for his mother’s rent, although I thought he’d said he sent it directly to the landlord.

  Maybe it went in the landlord’s account, labeled with his mother’s name, so it could be applied properly. Knowing that he might need the receipt if something happened and the landlord didn’t get it and not wanting the receipt to get wet, I laid it face up on his chest of drawers.

  By the time I got back to the kitchen, most of the groceries had been put up. I gathered up the grocery bags and stuffed them under the sink.

  “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” Haley asked as she put up the last few canned goods.

  “No. I’m an only child. I always wanted a sister, though.”

  We both walked into the living room. Haley sat down in the recliner while I dropped onto the couch, the cushions giving way beneath me.

  “I don’t know what I would’ve done without Mason.” I could hear the admiration in her voice, and she stared into the distance as if she was remembering her childhood.

  “Yeah, Mason told me that things were a little difficult when y’all were growing up.”

  She snapped around and looked at me. “Mason told you about our mom?”

  “A little.” I wondered if I should have kept my mouth shut. It could be a sensitive subject for her.

  “Unbelievable.”

  “I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “No,” she responded quickly. “I just meant…Mason hardly ever talks about our mom to people, especially people he hasn’t known very long. I’m surprised he said anything to you.

  “I think it’s affected him more than it has me. I wish things were different, but I also accept them. I think Mason struggles with it. Of course, it could be because on top of dealing with her insanity, he also had to deal with me.”

  “It’s a shame that y’all were put in that position. At least Miss Anne looked out for y’all while you were younger.”

  “He told you about Miss Anne?” she shrieked, shooting forward in the recliner. “What did you do to him? Hypnotize him?”

  “No.” I smiled at her, and I thought about how Mason had said that night that he listened to other people’s stories, but he had no one to listen to his. Maybe there was some truth to that, or maybe he just didn’t open up to people very easily. Something akin to pride bloomed in the pit of my stomach. I felt like he had chosen me to discuss some very personal matters, things he had difficulty discussing with anyone else. Haley’s reaction was helping me realize the extent of his trust in me.

  “I said something to him about Miss Anne one time, and he told me he didn’t want to talk about Miss Anne or Mom or none of that shit. Those were his exact words.”

  “I’m sure he would’ve talked about it if he thought you wanted to talk about it.”

  “I don’t know. I figured it was one of those topics I should add to my things-not-to-discuss-with-my-brother list. I penciled it in right under tampons.”

  “What was he like when y’all were growing up?”

  “Very protective. I remember one time when we were outside playing. This girl who was a lot bigger than me came along and decided that she was going to take my bike away from me. And she did. She rode it about ten seconds down the road until Mason caught up with her and dumped her off it.” She laughed. “Never saw that girl again.

  “I thought he was going to come to college one time when I told him that there was a guy who wouldn’t leave me alone, but luckily, I talked him out of it.”

  “So how’d you get the guy to leave you alone?”

  “I showed him a photo of Mason, and told him that if he didn’t leave me alone, my brother was going to kick his ass.” She chuckled. “It was very effective.”

  The love that they shared for each other was obvious, and I was a little envious. My parents were fantastic, but it would have been nice growing up with a sibling. I always pictured a sister, so we could giggle together and talk about boys, but a brother would have been nice, too.

  Being an only child had made my parents incredibly cautious. Growing up, they had been extremely overprotective, and while I loved that they cared about me, I wouldn’t have minded a bit more freedom. But when I thought about the opposite end of the spectrum, about the kind of parent that had raised Mason and Haley, I knew I was extremely fortunate. I would take overprotective over neglectful any day.

  A knock sounded at the door, and Haley and I looked at each other.

  I shrugged my shoulders and stood up. Crossing the room, I swung the door open, wondering if Mason had forgotten his key.

  Surprised by the woman who peered at me, I stood slack-jawed until my brain caught up with the situation. “May I help you?”

  Her eyes were half-lidded as she licked her lips and swallowed a couple of times. “I’m looking for Mason.”

  Before I had the opportunity to respond, Haley appeared at my side.

  A flicker of recognition crossed the woman’s features as her line of vision slid from me to Haley.

  I watched as Haley’s brows furrowed as she took in the woman’s unkempt appearance. “Mom?”

  Chapter 13

  Obituary Cocktail

  Lexi

  Haley quickly stepped out of the apartment and escorted her mother back down the steps that led to the parking lot. Not wanting to appear nosy, I closed the door and busied myself by dusting the living room furniture.

  A few minutes later, she came in, grabbed her purse, and was gone again without a word.

  I wiped down the already-clean kitchen counter and swept the spotless floor. Opening the cabinet, I lined up the glasses in perfect rows. I was nervous, and I wasn’t sure why. Maybe because Mason had opened up to me about his mom. He was already helping her financially, and I wondered why she had shown up unexpectedly. Did she want more money? Was she just visiting?

  The vacuum hummed as I pushed it strategically around the room. When Haley came back through the front door, I watched to see if her mom came in behind her. She closed the door, a piece of paper in her hand, and I turned the vacuum off. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah.” She waved the paper at me. “She just wanted to stop by and see Mason. Funny that she just happened to have a shut off notice for her electricity, and she didn’t have time to stick around until Mason got back home because she was on her way to see a friend.”

  Not knowing what to say, I started wrapping the cord of the vacuum cleaner up, so that I could put it back in the closet.

  “Mason’s the worst kind of enabler.” Haley collapsed on the couch. “Do me a favor.”

  I glanced at her. “Of course.”

  “Don’t tell Mason that she was here.”

  It was against my nature to lie, but if Haley didn’t mention it, there would be no reason for Mason to ask me about it. Unless his mother called him. Knowing that Haley was waiting on my response, I reluctantly agreed.

  “My mother needs to hit rock bottom, and Mason doesn’t have the heart to let her do it. He has some innate need to take care of the women in his life, even the ones who don’t deserve it.”

  “What if she calls him?”

  “Hopefully by then it’ll be too late. Her electricity will be cut off. Of course, he’ll only pay to have it cut back on.” She chewed on her thumbnail. “I may as well pay it. If I don’t, he will. I’d still appreciate it if you don’t mention it. He worries about us too much as it is. Let me be the one to help her out this time.

  “She really needs to go to rehab. He can’t take care of her the rest of her life. At some point, she needs to be responsible for herself. I’m not sure that will ever happen, though.” She focused her attention on me. “If you hear Mason say anything about my mother, let me know, okay? I worry about her, but I really worry about Mason always trying to take care of her.”r />
  Before I could agree, the front door opened. I found myself holding my breath, wondering if their mom had returned. Once I realized it was Mason, I exhaled.

  “What’s up?” His view toggled from Haley to me. “Is something wrong?”

  Did we look guilty? Haley and I exchanged glances before she answered Mason. “We were just having a serious discussion.”

  “What about?”

  “Peanut butter.”

  His expression lightened. “Peanut butter?”

  “Yeah,” she continued. “Smooth or crunchy?”

  “Smooth.”

  “That’s what she said.” Haley pointed at me. “Y’all are both wrong. Crunchy is way better.”

  “While y’all discuss the merits of smooth and crunchy, I’m going to take a shower. You ladies want to grab some lunch before we have to go to work?”

  “I’m going to hit up some of my friends. Y’all go without me,” Haley said.

  “Your loss,” Mason called, his voice carrying down the hall.

  ***

  As Mason and I took our places behind the bar to relieve Stormy, she leaned against the counter, wiping her hands on a towel. “Did Spanky tell you that he sold the bar?”

  “He did,” Mason said, a slight frown tugging at his lips.

  “Have you heard anything about the new owner? Spanky’s being awfully hush-hush about it. I’m wondering if I should start looking for another job. I’ve got a daughter to think about, and you know how it is when places get new owners. He’s subject to come in here and lay us all off, so he can put his own people in. Or he may get rid of our insurance. I need my insurance.”

  “I wish I’d been able to come up with the money before he sold it,” Mason said solemnly. “No one would’ve had to worry about anything then.”

  “Maybe the new owner will keep things the same,” I suggested.

  “Yeah, or maybe he’ll be a total ass,” Stormy said. “I can’t work for an asshole.” She puffed out a breath. “But I need this job.”

  “No sense worrying about it today,” Mason told her. He patted her on the shoulder. “Go spend some time with your daughter.”

  “Spanky told me that the sale would be final in about a month.” Stormy laid the towel down and squatted to a bottom shelf to get her purse.

  “I hate to see him go,” Mason said.

  “We should throw him a retirement party. You think he would close the bar down early one night so everyone could come?” I asked Mason.

  “Yeah, I’m sure he would do that on one of the slower nights.”

  “Will you ask him?”

  “I’ll take care of it, love.”

  Stormy waved. “See you guys later. Let me know what I can do for the party. Spanky’s been good to me.”

  “We will,” I assured her.

  Snatching my phone out of my pocket, I pulled up my calendar and looked at the dates. “So you think the last Monday in July would be a good day for the party?”

  “Yep. I’ll ask him later tonight after the rush.”

  When the after-work customers had come and gone, Mason and I busied ourselves stocking everything and cleaning the bar. Once darkness fell, business slacked off.

  “Have you got the bar?” Mason asked. “I’ll go run that party date by Spanky.”

  “Got it.”

  Mason tugged playfully on a strand of my hair. “I’ll be back shortly.”

  After checking with customers, I delivered a couple of draft beers and began making a Rusty Nail. Doing a double take, I noticed the one man that I had no desire to see walking in the front door. Quickly looking away, I took my customer’s money from the counter, rang up the drink, and set the change down in front of him.

  “Here, honey,” the elderly gentleman said as he pushed a dollar toward me.

  I pasted on a bright smile and thanked him, my insides filling with dread as I watched the unwelcome patron head in my direction.

  He sat down at the end of the bar, away from everyone else. I knew he would. I glanced around, contemplating whether I should wait and let Mason serve him.

  “Miss.” He held up his hand, indicating that he needed service. Some of the other customers noticed, and I reluctantly approached him.

  “Can I help you?”

  Mason

  Spanky and I had a good conversation. As I suspected, he had no problem closing the bar for a retirement party. He’d actually been very appreciative. The date was set, and it made the situation seem all the more real. My shot at owning the bar was over. It was something I’d dreamed of early on since coming to work here, but my dream had been nothing more than an ice cube dropped into an alcoholic drink, slowly melting until it was absorbed by the whiskey and nothing remained. Sometimes, I felt like that ice cube, surrounded by a life that wanted to dissolve me into nothingness, and if I wasn’t at work, I’d sip on a glass of whiskey right now, welcoming the sweet numbness of oblivion.

  Lexi’s brows were drawn up until a tiny crease implanted itself between them. I could see her face, the way her lips turned down at the edges, the way her eyes focused on the man sitting in front of her. From the back, I didn’t recognize him, and his tailored suit certainly narrowed down the prospects. I knew my regulars, and he wasn’t one of them.

  Her intense focus on him prevented her from noticing me as I walked around the bar and approached her from behind.

  She mumbled something in a low voice, and I watched as he grabbed her wrist. She tried to jerk out of his grasp, but he tightened his hold.

  I had no idea who this ass was or what he wanted, but there was no way in hell I was going to stand by and let him treat her like that. Approaching Lexi, I laid my hands on her shoulders, and both she and the guy turned to look at me, clearly surprised by my intervention.

  “Lexi, why don’t you take a break? I’ll handle his drink order.”

  “But….”

  I gave her a look that let her know that it wasn’t up for discussion. If a man was going to treat her with disrespect, it wasn’t going to be while I stood by and watched.

  I nodded my head toward the other end of the bar. She was free to go anywhere she wanted, but she was no longer going to stand here in front of this prick.

  She pulled her hand back, and he released it. As soon as she stepped back, I filled her spot, squaring myself in front of him.

  “I was speaking with Lexi,” he said, his voice low and menacing.

  I picked up a coaster and spun it onto the counter in front of him. “Let me fix you a drink. It’s on me.” Holding my finger up, I motioned for him to wait while I whipped up one of the many drink recipes rifling through my brain.

  Once I was finished, I set the glass in front of him. “You know what this drink is called?” I asked, working hard to keep my voice just as friendly as if he were Hawk or Cade.

  He shook his head.

  “Obituary Cocktail.” I scooted it closer to him. “And if you mess with Lexi again, that’s what your momma’s going to be reading—your obituary. Now enjoy the drink and get the hell out of my bar.”

  Wondering who this dude was, I walked over to where Lexi stood by the cash register with a sour expression on her face. “You know this guy?”

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Astonished, I held my hands, palm side up, in the air. “Saving your ass. You’re welcome.”

  “I don’t need you to save my ass.”

  “So I should have stood by silently while he strong-armed you?”

  “I can handle him.”

  “And so can I.”

  “It’s not your place.”

  “It became my place the night you touched my face.” I pointed at her. “You assured me that if I would just lie down, everything would be better in the morning. And dammit, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since. So if you want to talk to him, it sure as hell isn’t going to be with me watching. ’Cause when I see him touch you like that, I want to throat-punch him.”

/>   She gathered my hands in hers. “I’m flattered that you feel the need to protect me, but I’m a big girl.”

  “And he’s a douchebag.”

  “Yes, he is.”

  “Who is he?”

  She pulled her hands away, pursed her lips, and swallowed as if she were considering her words. “He’s my ex-fiancé.”

  I felt like the air had been sucked from my lungs. A man that she had obviously been in love with at one time was sitting at the bar. Had he come to try to get her back? “That’s the guy who hurt you? What’s he doing here?”

  “I don’t know. He said he wanted to go somewhere and talk. I told him I was working. That’s when he grabbed my wrist, and that’s when you showed up.”

  Rubbing my palms across my face, I took a deep breath and exhaled. My hands itched to ball into fists and take my frustration out on something. I didn’t want her talking to him. “So what’s your plan?” I couldn’t hide the distaste from my voice.

  “I want him to go away.”

  “I can make him go away for you.”

  “No.” Her fingertips brushed my cheek, angling my face. “Look at me.” Her touch was soothing, and I could feel some of my anger dissipate as I obeyed her request. “I’m going to take him outside and send him on his way.”

  “I don’t like the idea of you going out there with him alone.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Before I had the chance to argue, she turned and walked away, and I could do nothing but watch as she collected him from the bar and led him outside.

  What if he talked her into giving him a second chance?

  “Mason!”

  I heard one of my regulars calling my name. Closing my eyes, I pasted on a smile and turned toward her. There was a time when I had thought she was lovely with her golden hair and perfect body, but as I looked at her, I compared her to a dark-haired beauty with a gentle touch and a soothing voice, a dark-haired beauty who was probably being wooed by her ex-fiancé even now.

 

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