Page 69 of The Bad Brother

Whipping a towel off my shoulder, I get busy wiping down the bar while I watch her approach from the corner of my eye. “Look…” Shaking my head while avoiding eye contact, I decide to let her down gently. “I’m not sure what Cade?—”

“Doesn’t really matter what that asshole said, does it?” Gemma says on a sunny laugh that completely contradicts her words. “He obviously lied about you being willing to hire me on.”

Stopping, mid-wipe, I look up from the bar to find Gemma staring me down, arms crossed over her chest. Slinging the towel back over my shoulder on a sigh, I shake my head. “I’ve got enough trouble around here,” I tell her quietly. “I can’t risk it.”

“Oh, I’ve heard all about yourtrouble,” she tells me on a laugh while she lets her gaze drift across the crowded bar. “From the looks of things, so has everyone else.” Dropping her arms on a sigh, Gemma shakes her head, sending her thick blonde ponytail bouncing between her shoulders. “I’ve been living in Barrett, taking care of my grandfather, since I was seventeen, Jensen,” she reminds me. “I’m no more a creeker than you are. Not anymore.”

Hearing her mention her grandfather, I suddenly feel like shit. “I was sorry to hear about what happened,” I tell her. “I always liked Denton—he was a good man.” More than that, Denton Pierce was one of Tank’s best friends.

“Hewasa good man,” she agrees with me, her tone thickening slightly. “And he always liked you too. The way I remember it, he was just about the only person in this town who didn’t give Tank shit for taking you in.”

She’s right.

Aside from the Montgomerys and the McLeods—both families Barrett by blood, if not by name—Denton Pierce was the only person in this town who didn’t lock his car doors and shoo his kids into the house whenever I walked by. Everyone else told Tank he’d regret the day he gave me his last name and I’ve been trying like hell to prove them wrong ever since.

Shit.

Before I can tell Gemma that, against my better judgment, she’s hired, I catch a swirl of black and white polka dots in the corner of my eye and turn, just in time to watch Sloane walk into the room. I’m not the only one who notices her. The entire bar stops on a dime, just to watch her glide across the floor on her way toward the door.

That’s how beautiful she is.

“Hole-eee shit,” Gemma mutters under her breath justbefore the spell is broken and everyone resumes whatever they were doing before Sloane walked in. Looking at me with an arched brow, she lets out a low-tone whistle. “And you’re worried aboutmecausing trouble?”

“River rented her my loft upstairs without my permission and I’ve been trying to get rid of her ever since.” It’s a lie. A dirty fucking lie, and I feel like shit the second it leaves my mouth but it’s out there before I can reel it back in. Like she heard me, Sloane’s gaze finds me, just before she reroutes herself toward the bar.

“Here’s the deal—I need this job,” Gemma says to the side of my face. “When my grandpa died, he left me the house and a pretty big tax bill to go with it. Life insurance took care of most of it but there’s about fifteen grand left and I can’t swing it. Not with what June pays me, and?—”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask her why she doesn’t just ask her mother for the money but I don’t because I know why. I understand. There’s are strings attached to everything tied to the other side of the river. Gemma can’t ask her mother for help without getting herself tangled in them. Gut twisted into knots, I tear my gaze away from her and focus on the woman in front of me. “You work at June’s?”

Gemma looks at me for a moment like she thinks I might have brain damage. “I was your waitress yesterday when you came in with River.”

“You were?” When she nods at me with anare you okay?sort of expression on her face, I shake my head while offering up an excuse. “I’ve got a lot going on right now.”

“Yeah…” Looking at Sloane again, Gemma laughs. “I can see that.” Waiting a beat, she adds, “I’m going to lose my grandpa’s house if I don’t do something—fast.”

Goddamnit.

Here I go, doing nice guy shit again.

“We’re closed Sunday and Monday,” I tell her, while I watch Cade and Sloane argue in my peripheral. “Tuesday and Wednesday are slow—Sera and Riv can manage just fine on their own, for now. It starts picking up on Thursday.” Sera swoops in and gets between them before things can escalate. Still doing my best to ignore Sloane, I decide to let her handle it. “By Friday night, the dance floor is packed and by Saturday, people are swinging from the rafters—that’s when I need you. Six to close.”

If working weekends is a deal-breaker, Gemma doesn’t let on. “Works for me.”

“Alright then,” I say with a nod while Sera pours Sloane a shot of Clase Azuel. “I pay fifteen dollars an hour plus tips. I don’t know how it works at June’s but we don’t pool ‘em here—what you make is what you keep.”

“Sounds fair,” Gemma tells me with a nod while down the bar, Sloane slams her empty shot glass down with a loud bang. Opening her purse, she pulls out a single bill. Sliding it across the bar, toward Sera, Sloane turns away and strolls out the door without a backward glance. It’s taking every ounce of self-control I have to stop myself from chasing after her.

“Do you need to go take care of that?”

Looking away from the door Sloane just disappeared behind, I give Gemma a stiff head shake. “No,” I tell her, my tone making it clear that the creeker I have living in my loft is not an open topic of discussion. “Tell me rightfucking now if I’m going to have a problem with you and Cade,” I say in that same hard tone. “It’s obvious you’re here because he’s trying to make amends but if you can’t play nice, there’s no point in taking this any further.”

“I don’t carewhathis motives are,” Gemma says with a definitive head shake. “I’m here because I need a job. So long as he keeps my best friend’s name out of his mouth, Cade and I will get along famously.”

In other words, it’s only a matter of time before Cade fucks this whole situation to shit and it blows up in my face, but she’s Denton Pierce’s granddaughter and if I didn’t at least give her a chance, Tank would kick my ass.

“Come back at six,” I tell her on afuck my lifesort of sigh. “I’ll have Sera get you sorted out.”

IPULL INTO THE CLUB’S COVERED,circular drive at 2:05. Just as I’m climbing out of my car and handing my keys to the valet, my phone buzzes in my clutch. Sure it’s my mother with more passive aggressive texts, I almost don’t check it. Deciding to just shoot her a quick,I’m heretext before she calls my boss and gets me fired, I dig my phone out on a sigh. The text isn’t from my mother.

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