Page 49 of Love Rewritten

He walks in early. First good sign.

Aubrey rounds to the front of the bar and extends her hand. “Hi, I’m Aubrey, the bar manager, in case you forgot since yesterday’s interview.”

He shakes her hand and greets her back politely. “Yeah, I remember.”

Aubrey motions back to me. “This is Dallas. You’ll be replacing him.”

“Jordan,” he says. We shake hands, and she shows him around the restaurant and bar to familiarize him with the place before setting him up at the end of the bar with a packet of paperwork.

She gives him the rundown before dismissing herself for the day and turning him over to me. “Don’t ruin him. He seems like a good one,” she says.

I chuckle and shake my head. When he’s done with his packet a few hours later, I run through it with him, answer any questions, and then we get started on the actual bar training.

“Have you ever done any of this before?” I ask, pulling out a few basic supplies.

“Not as an actual job, but I’ve got some experience behind a bar.”

“Okay. I want to test you first, see what we’re working with, and go from there.” I pull out a glass and hand him a larger glass bottle filled with water that we use for training. “Free pour one shot into this glass. When you’re done, we’ll measure.”

I run him through a series of different tests before starting any sort of liquor. He’s good. He needs a bit of fine-tuning on a few things, but for not having professional bar experience, he somehow knows what he’s doing. He shadows Dylan and me for the rest of the day and when we near the end of our shifts, he’s got a bit of paperwork left to finish. I set him back up at the end of the bar.

I lean against the back of the bar during the lull in customers. “So, are you from here? Go to college? What made you apply?”

He scribbles something down into an empty box before replying. “Went to college at Oxly. Graduated a couple of years ago. Made the wrong choice of major. And now I’m here.” He looks up frantically and blurts out, “Not that this is a bad thing. I’m grateful for the opportunity.”

I laugh at his sudden frenzy. “Chill. I realize bartending isn’t a dream come true for most people. Tends to just be a job to get by. I get it.” He settles at that, checks a few more boxes, and finishes the paperwork. “Check in with Bill before you head out.” He nods and disappears into the back. I’m thankful when the top of a new hour hits and I can finally go home for the day.

Chapter 19

Abby

Someoneknocksonthefront door, and Logan, Dallas, and I all send each other confused glances. Logan hops up to answer it and when he opens the door, a police officer stands on the other side with a yellow manilla folder in hand.

“Good afternoon, sir. May I speak with Abigail Cooper?” He smiles lightly, peeking around the room from where he stands. His eyes land on me, and he waits patiently for me to get up.

I eye Dallas curiously before standing, my blood suddenly running cold. Cops don’t show up at people's doors for no reason. Dallas shrugs but sits up a little straighter. When I approach the officer, Logan hovers close behind.

The officer speaks again before I do. “Abigail Cooper?” I nod, and he continues. “I’m a deputy sheriff with the Oxly Police Department. I am here to serve you with this. If you have any questions, there is a number you can call at the top of the front page. Have a wonderful day.” And then he leaves. No explanation as to what he’s just given me. He just leaves.

I blink, too stunned at the situation to say anything or question what just happened. Logan closes the door when I step back. The front of the folder is labeled in black Sharpie with my last name, then my first name. I turn it over to pry up the two metal prongs to open the top flap. Inside is a small stack of legal papers. The top one displays the court case between Sam and me. My brows twist together, and I hear Dallas rise from the couch. Both boys stand behind me on either side, reading over my shoulder.

Below the case name, in bold, all-caps typesetting, it reads,“Subpoena to testify in a hearing or trial in a criminal case.”I keep reading even though my heart is racing. I don't need to be a lawyer to know what that word means. The beginning of the next line is also in all caps, making it read even scarier:“You are commanded to appear in the district court …”

I stop reading, almost dropping the papers as my hands start to shake, but someone catches them just before they slip from my grasp. My eyes stare straight ahead at some distant spot out the window. My mind is so far from where I stand that I can’t drag it back.

The walls aren’t moving, but they feel like they’re closing in. The ceiling is intact, but it feels like it’s falling. The window looks like it’s slowly slipping away, and no matter how hard I try to draw it back, it keeps fleeing from me.

A muffled voice breaks through, but I can’t tell if it’s Logan's or Dallas’s. Dallas moves around to stand in front of me, breaking my stare out the window, a hand on either arm, squatting down just enough so our heads are level.

“Abby,” the voice says again. Dallas. It’s his lips moving. “Please, sit down.”

He pulls my arms forward until I’m in front of the couch and he guides me down. He kneels in front of me, his hands resting just above my knees. He’s watching me carefully, but I can’t meet his eyes, so I stare at the emblem on his shirt instead. Logan stands to my left. They both seem to be waiting. For what, I’m not sure. But I’m waiting, too. For the panic attack to set in. For the frantic breathing. For the tears. For the shaking and that knot in my body that I know so well.

But it doesn’t come.

I’m numb.

Immobile.

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