Page 94 of Gone for You

After he mixes her drink and she glares at me once more, we get everyone settled with orders. Rex drapes the white towel he was just wiping his hands with over his shoulder, leans against the bar top, and crosses his arms and legs. “Wanna tell me what that was all about?”

“Nope.”

“All right. Here’s the deal. You’re an asshole and I’m about a day away from quitting if this shit doesn’t end so either snap the fuck out of it or I’m done. And so is about every other person who’s under your employment.”

The look I give him does nothing to scare him off. Which is bullshit. No respect in the place of business I own.

“Quit then if it’s so fucking bad here.”

He raises his eyebrows as he watches me slam bottles around.

“Penny!” Rex shouts over his shoulder to our best waitress who also helps behind the bar when we need her to. I should probably have her back here more often – especially on fight night or game night. The guys love her.

I watch as Penny finishes up at the table she was just checking on and pushes through the counter-high swinging door to get behind the bar. She gives me a bored look and turns a smile to Rex. It’s not flirtatious, simply friendly.

“Need you back here for a bit.”

“Okay?” She looks at me quickly before washing her hands in the sink.

“I’m fine,” I grit out.

A laugh escapes her which she tries to recover and a few of my regulars at the bar pretend to be incredibly interested in their beer bottles. No one will make eye contact with me when I try to get their attention.

“Wrong. Let’s go.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” I ask Rex, balling my fists to stop myself from punching him in the throat. I wouldn’t. Not in any situation because I love him like a brother. But I’m seriously annoyed.

“I’m your friend, asshole. And the way you’re going, I’m basically your last one so I suggest you come with me before you wreck your bar, too.”

He walks away, expecting me to follow him. And eventually I do. Not because he told me to, but because I’m a big enough person to admit when he’s right.

“You tell him, Rex!” someone shouts behind me and I lift the middle finger to them and keep walking. The bar erupts into laughter and even I’ll admit, it’s good to hear.

As soon as we’re in my office, he slams the door behind him.

“Look at it.”

“Look at what?”

“Your desk.”

Sometimes I really hate how smart Rex is. I always thought brain smarts meant that they had no people skills or common sense. But not Rex. He has it all. Especially when it comes to being able to read people. Usually I enjoy this quality in him.

Right now, I’d say it’s definitely a negative.

“There’s nothing wrong with my desk.”

“I know that. But you clearly don’t.”

My eyes dart to it and it’s like a loop of favorite moments with Olivia cycles through my head in fast forward. It’s just a flash, but it feels like it lasted hours.

I avoid eye contact with Rex as I move to sit on the couch then spring up like it’s on fire.

“Nothing wrong with the couch, either.”

“I know that, too, you asshole. Care to share what we’re doing here inmyoffice?”

“You haven’t been in here since Lily’s wedding so I figured you’d forgotten it was back here.” That’s a lie and he knows it, but it’s not worth arguing about. I just haven’t spent much time back here, only taking care of the bare minimum.

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