Page 29 of Good as Gold
“Sure, when we were kids. I don’t deny it. But I had no idea you guys broke up. Saw her at Alec’s wedding and the first thing I said was, ‘Where’s Rory?’”
He barks out a laugh. “Yeah? That musta gone over well.”
“She looked at me like I’m the dumbest man alive.” I shrug. “Then she told me it was over between you guys.”
He shifts on his barstool. “Whyareyou here, then?”
“Because I’m having a rough year myself. Thought a trip home might put things in perspective.”
This seems to appease him, and he sags, propping his chin in his hand. Rory looks thin, and the circles under his eyes are darker than mine. “Sorry to hear that.”
“It’s only April. This year better turn around, right?”
“Right.” He raises his beer toward me, and I do the same. “Cheers.”
I grab a cloth and wipe down the bar. “Where you working these days?”
“The job market is shit.” He shakes his head. “I do some part time work here and there. Still trying to find the best fit.”
“Uh-huh.” It’s an interesting take. I’ve seen a dozen Help Wanted signs in Colebury, and I’ve only been in town a few days.
“Might be desperate enough to try bartending, though. Maybe next door at Speakeasy. I hear they pay pretty good. But Lyle Giltmaker hates me, so I’m probably blackballed.”
“Hmm.” I don’t mention that I’m a minority owner of Speakeasy. It’s not my place to suggest they give Rory a job.
Honestly, I don’t know why Rory would want to breathe the same air as his ex-father-in-law.
But it’s none of my business.
“You remember those bonfires we used to have?” Rory asks. His voice has gone wistful. “Out in the woods. A keg of terrible beer—nothing like this fancy shit you have on tap.”
“Sure I do.” Nostalgia must be contagious, because I can suddenly picture it so clearly—Leila swinging her legs off the tailgate of her father’s truck, impersonating a teacher.
Rory, drunk and doing handstands to impress the ladies.
Me, watching the firelight flicker across my friends’ faces. “Those were some good times.”
“They were,” he agrees. “Our feet going numb in the snow. And the only music was from somebody’s pickup truck. We’d always have to jump the battery afterwards.” He laughs. “But it didn’t matter, yeah? It wasenough. We weren’t always so fucking dissatisfied with our lives.”
Actually, I was.
But now is not the time or place to say so. “They were simpler days,” I say instead.
He pushes his glass toward me on the bar. “Can you spot me another? Money is a little tight.”
“Just one,” I say, reaching for his glass. Naturally Rory is drinking one of the more expensive beers in the whole joint. I take a ten out of the tip jar and toss it into the register before I pour him a beer.
“Oh, shit,” he says in a dark voice. “Could this town be any fucking smaller?”
I lift my chin, checking the door. And there’s Leila, her face alight with a smile. She’s just walked in with Skye, my brother Benito’s wife. Her eyes are shining with humor, and her cheeks are flushed.
She reminds me of a naughty angel, sent from heaven to make my heart beat a little faster.
Then I turn back and clock the anger on Rory’s face. And I just know this is going to be bad. His lip has curled into a sneer, and his body is tense.
Fuck. Whatever Alec is paying me to tend bar tonight, it won’t be enough if I have to throw my best friend out of the bar for harassing myotherbest friend.
“There aretwobars on this road,” Rory says. “They coulda picked the other one. Did she know you were working tonight?”
