Page 267 of Banter & Blushes

By the time the sun starts to set, I’m exhausted—physically, mentally, and emotionally. I’m wiping down the counter for whatfeels like the hundredth time when Clara sidles up next to me, a knowing look on her face.

“You’re spiraling,” she says, not unkindly.

“I’m fine,” I say automatically.

She gives me a knowing look. “Becky.”

I sigh, setting the rag down and leaning on the counter. “What if it changes everything, Clara? What if the bar isn’t the same after this?”

She smiles. “Change isn’t always a bad thing, you know. Sometimes it’s exactly what we need. He might actually be onto something with the charity event idea.”

I pause. “You think so?”

“Yeah. It’s not a bad plan. Turn the attention into something positive. Plus, it might get the tourists to stop asking me if we have a secret menu.”

I snort despite myself. “What do they think we’re hiding? Underground mojitos?”

“Apparently.” Clara grins, then sobers slightly. “Look, I get it. You’re worried about what this might do to the bar. But Becky, you’ve got a good thing here. One event isn’t going to erase that.”

I glance at her, my throat tightening. “What if it does? What if this turns into one of those places people only come to because they think they’ll run into someone famous?”

Clara tilts her head. “Then you remind them why it’s special. You’ve been doing that for years, Becky. It’s not going to stop now.”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak, and she gives me one last pat before heading off to restock the lemons.

Later, after the bar has finally emptied out and the only sounds are the waves and the hum of the fridge, I find Keigan sitting on the back steps, staring out at the ocean.

“Mind if I join you?” I ask, stepping outside.

He glances up and smiles. “Not at all.”

I sit down next to him, the cool wood of the steps grounding me. For a while, we just sit there in silence, the breeze tugging at my hair and the stars flickering overhead.

“You’re quiet,” Keigan says after a while, his voice soft.

“Just thinking,” I say, pulling my knees up to my chest.

“About the event?”

“About everything,” I admit.

Keigan shifts, his shoulder brushing mine. “You’re worried.”

I nod, staring out at the dark horizon.

“You don’t have to be,” he says, his tone steady. “This is your bar, Becky. No one can take that from you. Not me, not the tourists, not the cameras. You’ve built something special here, and nothing can change that.”

I glance at him, his face lit by the faint glow of the moon. “You really believe that?”

“I do,” he says without hesitation.

I look back at the ocean, the waves rolling in and out like they’ve been doing for centuries, and feel a tiny flicker of hope.

“Thanks, Keigan,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Anytime,” he says, leaning back on his hands.

We sit there until the chill of the night air drives us back inside, and for the first time in days, I feel like I can breathe again.

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