Page 27 of Daddy's Naughty Bartender
"No buts. Are you driving?"
"Sitting in the parking lot."
"Good. Here is what you are going to do next. Go home. Eat something real. Take a hot bath. I’m not there to take care of you, so I need you to follow my instructions as if I were. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
“Promise me you’ll go straight home and take care of yourself.”
“I promise.”
“And, Karen?"
"Yeah?"
"Stop trying to be superhuman. You're allowed to struggle. You're allowed to need. You're allowed to not be okay when your person is gone."
Your person. Like it's that simple. That decided.
"When are you coming back?"
"Tomorrow. Sunday at the latest." Frustration colors his tone. "This client is being... difficult. But I'm handling it. Hoping to wrap it up tonight."
"Okay."
"That's my good girl. Now go home. Rest. Let Susie handle tonight."
"Bossy."
"You love it." His voice drops. "When I get back, we're going to talk about taking better care of yourself. At length."
Something in his tone makes me shiver. "Is that a threat?"
"It's a promise. Drive safe. Remember your rules. Text me when you're home."
But I don't go home. I sit in that parking lot, staring at the bar Mark loved, feeling like I'm failing everyone. Him for letting the business slide. My kids for being distracted and short-tempered. Jason for being this pathetic mess who can't function without him.
My phone buzzes.
Jason: You haven't moved. I can see your location, remember? Go home, baby. Now. Don’t make me tell you again.
Right. I'd shared my location with him days ago, a safety thing that now feels more like accountability. I start the car, but instead of home, I drive back to the bar's rear entrance. Just a few more things to handle. A couple of bills to pay. Tomorrow's schedule to fix. Then I can go home and actually relax. I won’t be able to sleep well if these things are still in the air.
I lose track of time in the office, surrounded by paperwork and self-recrimination. The bar noise fades as closing time comes and goes. Susie has stopped checking on me, probably assuming I've left.
"You have got to be kidding me."
I jerk my head up from the desk. When did I lay it down? How long was I asleep? Jason is in my doorway. Not in Chicago. Here. Fury and concern war in those storm-gray eyes.
"You're back."
"We wrapped up tonight, and I decided to drive back tonight and wake you up tomorrow with breakfast in bed." He steps into the office, closing the door behind him with careful control.
"Imagine my surprise when I tracked your location and found you here instead of home. Resting. Like you promised."
"I just needed to?—"
"Stand up."
