Page 17 of I Wanna Be Your Lager

“Okay. I want to introduce you to my sister Everly.” He nods in my direction. “This is Rylee,” then he points to the blonde, “and that’s Nora.”

“No one calls me Everly.” I shoot Jake the death glare. Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I turn to the two women and hold out my hand. “You can call me Eve.”

Nora’s face goes stoic for a second before her eyes widen.

Rylee holds out her hand. “Nice to meet you. Are you going to be in town long?”

“Maybe a week or two. I’m just taking a little vacation.”

A warm smile forms on her face. “A vacation with this guy?” She hikes her thumb at Jake. “That sounds more like an episode fromMy Trip from Hell.”

We all laugh except Jake. His face doesn’t even twitch from his normal glower.

“It’s so nice to meet you. If you need anything, let me know,” Rylee says.

“Thank you.” I reciprocate with a smile of my own.

“I like your tattoo. Is that a sunflower?” Nora points to her neck, to the same place I have mine.

“It is. It’s my favorite flower.”

Her smile widens. “I really love it. So we can expect to see you around for a few more days. You need to meet everyone. Dessa and her stupidly hot baseball player husband should be back from their honeymoon soon. And, of course, Lach, who’s equally hot.” She nudges Rylee.

My gaze dances between the two of them. It’s like they’re sharing a secret no one else is in on. “Okay. A bar full of hot guys.” I nod. “I’m on board.” The last thing I need is anything resembling a relationship. Unless they want to come for a ride on my hot-mess express. Toot. Toot. “I’m looking forward to meeting everyone.”

“I’m going to get some paperwork done,” Jake interrupts. He holds out the keys to his truck, and I snatch them from his grip. “Do what you need. I’ll get a ride home later.”

“Are you sure? I can come pick you up afterward?”

“If I need a ride, I’ll call you. Otherwise, don’t worry.”

“Okay,” I say to Jake. Twisting around, I wave to Rylee and Nora. “It was nice to meet you both.”

“You too,” Nora says, nudging Rylee with her elbow. “I hope we see more of you.”

“Me too.” I turn on my heel and stroll out of Porter’s.

Since I’m making it a habit of giving my perfectly good underwear to complete strangers, I bought some new ones while I was shopping, along with three pairs of jeans and a variety of tops and sweaters. It’s so much cheaper to shop here than it is in Knoxville. No sales tax on clothing is a huge bonus. With no job, I need to save as much as I can. Sitting on a bench outside the food court at the mall, I tear off a piece of the soft pretzel and toss it in my mouth. It’s warm, buttery, and oh-so salty. I close my eyes and savor the taste. Why is telling Jake I’m jobless so difficult, unlike the simple decision between a pretzel or a cinnamon bun? Something sweet or something savory? Tell Jake and have him be disappointed in me, or not tell Jake and let him live in blissful ignorance? I know which one I want, but I know which one I should do. Sadly, this isn’t the first time I’ve been shit on. Before working for Pax, I co-owned a photography studio. Then, out of the blue, my business partner left without a word, cleaned out most of the bank account, and there wasn’t anything I could do because her name was on the account too. Jake wasn’t too thrilled when I took the last of the money, said fuck it, and had myself a fun weekend in Vegas. My motto was “damn the man.” Eve needs fun. Needless to say, I didn’t win big and save my failing business. Instead of fixing my problems, the trip created more, at least according to Jake. If I tell him I quit my job after being blindsided that my ex-boyfriend/boss is married, I’ll get the how-can-I-be-so-irresponsible speech. That’s the last thing I need right now.

I stare down at my empty pretzel bag and frown. All that’s left are oversized grains of salt. Another one might be in order to help me decide. Crumpling the paper in my fist, I rise to my feet and collect my shopping bags before heading back to the pretzel stand for another magic eight ball pretzel to tell me what to do. While delicious, the second pretzel failed me in the future tellingdepartment. I still don’t know what to tell Jake. I stand from the bench outside the food court and toss my garbage into the bin.

I stroll through the doorway to my temporary bedroom and unload everything onto the bed. These new clothes should make my trip to Harbor Highlands more believable. After removing all the tags, I shove everything into my suitcase. From another bag, I pull out two giant pink pillows and toss them on the bed. Now it feels less dead in here. My phone buzzes on the comforter with an incoming message. I glance at the screen and roll my eyes. Pax’s name flashes at the top, and I get a preview of the message. It’s basically the same thing he’s sent me for the past fifty messages. How much he’s sorry. He wants me to come back. If I want, he’ll leave his wife for me. The last one makes me gag. I won’t be someone’s second choice. Or the other woman. My life has been full of one terrible decision after the other. Pax has been the biggest one of them all. I feel so stupid. How could I have been blind to the fact he’s married? Maybe a background check will be a new requirement before I date a guy in the future. Anything to avoid this situation from happening again. I flop onto the comforter and drape my arm over my face. How did I end up here? But more importantly, how long can I keep it from Jake? He’s the last person I want disappointed in me. And this will most definitely disappoint him. My phone buzzes again. One quick glance at the screen and roll my eyes. Even seeing his name makes me angry. I pick up my phone and unlock it. When I find his number, I hit edit and change his contact name. Then I put it on silent. I’ll eventually need to talk to him to square away my last paycheck. For now, I need him to get the hint and leave me alone.

Rising off the bed, I pull my book out of my tote bag. Returning to the bed, I lay down, leaning against the headboard. I slide my finger through the pages where my bookmark is and start reading. I need the drama of someone else’s life to give me an escape from my own.

I wake up with my cheek stuck to the pages of my open book. Once I started reading last night, I couldn’t stop. On the one-year anniversary of losing her husband, the main character took a trip to a charming small town in the mountains where her husband took her every year for their anniversary. A two-day stay turned into four, then six. Eventually, she found a job at the local bed and breakfast, where she had many run-ins with the incredibly hot local handyman, including a very spicy scene when he fixed her shower. It inspired me. Not that I’ll find my own handyman, but I won’t turn down the idea either.

The clanking of pots and pans draws my attention. Jake is like a bull in the pots and pans aisle. I change my clothes and shove one of my new hoodies over my head before tying my hair back in a ponytail.

I pad into the kitchen and stop at the doorway. Jake’s back is to me as he cracks an egg into a pan on the stove. The acrid scent of burnt toast wafts around the kitchen. Two pieces of almost-black toast pop up from the toaster.

“I see your culinary skills haven’t improved.”

Jake juggles half the eggshell before it falls into the pan. “Shit.” He fishes out the eggshell and tosses it into the garbage. “Do you want breakfast?”

Rising to my tippy toes, I peer over his shoulder at what he’s cooking and scrunch my nose. “I’ll pass.” It looks better than anything I could cook but also nothing like diner food.

“I promise it will taste better than how it currently looks.”

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