Page 7 of Falling for the Bad Boy
"New Zealand. A tiny town you’ve never heard of on the eastern side of the South Island."
She nodded to herself. "That makes sense. So you're here for school?"
"Finishing up my MBA. I graduate in May." Saying the words out loud made it more real, more immediate. Made it more imperative than ever that I figure out a way to stay.
"And then you'll go back to New Zealand?"
"We'll see."
She glanced up at me, a question in her eyes. We’d almost reached the bar. I was supposed to be getting a better idea of her plans, not the other way around.
I reached for the handle of the door. "Let me grab my keys and tell Wyatt I’ll be back in a bit."
She nodded. "I think I'll wait out here."
I didn’t blame her. After her initial run-in with Wyatt, I could imagine she’d rather steer clear until my boss had a chance to cool off. The music drifted through the doorway as I ducked inside. In the short time I’d been gone, business had picked up but was still pretty light on a Tuesday night. I still ought to be able to run Trinity home. With a quick nod at Lindsey, who’d taken over behind the bar, I ducked into the office to grab my keys and the helmet to my bike.
Wyatt sat in the chair behind the desk, his phone to his ear. "You’ve got to be shitting me." He shook his head. "Are you sure?"
I waited for a chance to get his attention.
"Yeah. Thanks." He set the phone down in front of him and cradled his head in his hands.
"You okay, mate?" I asked.
Wyatt glanced up. "We're fucked. That was my attorney. Unless Hopkins or that chick?—"
"Trinity," I interrupted. For some reason it rubbed me the wrong way that Wyatt couldn’t be bothered to remember her name.
"Whatever. Unless one of them changes their mind before tomorrow, it looks like we’ve got ourselves a new landlord."
"What about the expansion?" Convincing Wyatt to hire me on full-time, especially with the expense of sponsoring my work visa, was a long shot to begin with. Without the option to expand the bar, the odds seemed to shrink on the spot.
Wyatt stood. "What about it? Hopkins said she’s planning some artist shit next door. No chance of us getting that space to expand our operation now."
The air thickened. I tried to fill my lungs. Even with the odds stacked against me, Wyatt and Tapped had been my best hope of remaining in the States. But there had to be another way. "How about finding a new place? I keep seeing for rent signs around down?—"
"I’ve checked them all. Nothing has the configuration we need. There are a ton of other buildings for rent. But none of them will work for what I want to do except the space next door."
I bit my tongue to prevent myself from reminding him he’d had a chance to buy the building first. But Wyatt was a cheapskate and figured he could wait it out. And now both of us would pay the price.
"I’ve got to run a quick errand. Think Lindsey will be able to handle the bar for a bit?" Now probably wasn’t the time to mention I’d be running Trinity home. But if I could pump her for info during our time together, maybe I’d find a way to make the best out of a bad situation.
"Yeah, go ahead." Wyatt waved me on, his attention already consumed by the mess of paperwork in front of him.
I made my way back to the bar, stopping on my way to double check with Lindsey. She typically waited tables, but as Wyatt’s wife and co-owner, she’d fill in wherever she was needed. That’s what business owners did. That’s the kind of responsibility I wanted. But on my own terms, not terms that seemed to be laid down for me before I was born.
By the time I caught up to Trinity, I was surprised she hadn’t fled on her own. "You ready?"
"What's that?" She gestured to the helmet I handed her.
"You okay on the back of my bike?"
"As long as you're okay on the front of it." She smiled. "You do know how to ride, don’t you?"
I held her gaze. "Yes. But I’ve only got one helmet, and I’d prefer you wear it." I spun my keys around on my key chain. "Need help getting that fastened?"
"No, I’ve got it." She donned the helmet, tightening the strap under her chin.
