Page 2 of Rhett & Moses
“Go up to your apartment,” she offered. “Catch a couple of hours if you need to. I can handle the morning prep. We have a day, and remember today is only an informal icebreaker of sorts. Nothing official.”
I nodded gratefully, but as I turned to head to the office, Bronwyn caught my arm.
“Moses,” she said, her eyes suddenly serious. “He’s coming, you know.”
I didn’t need to ask who “he” was. My heart performed a familiar flip in my chest; the same one it had done twenty years ago whenever Rhett had entered a room.
“I figured he might,” I said, aiming for casual and missing by a mile.
“Just thought you should be prepared,” she continued. “Rumor has it he’s single now.”
I shot her a look. “And why would that matter to me?”
Bronwyn rolled her eyes. “Please. I’ve known you since we were kids, Moses Morley. I know what happened between you two.”
“Nothing happened,” I said automatically, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue. “And that was two decades ago.”
“Some fires never really go out,” she said with a shrug. “They just burn underground, waiting for the right conditions to flare up again.”
“Save the poetry for the drinks menu,” I grumbled, heading toward the office. “I need sleep.”
Her laugh followed me down the hallway. “Sweet dreams, Moses. I’m sure they’ll be filled with a certain someone.”
I flipped her off without turning around, her answering cackle making it clear she wasn’t remotely offended. Once inside my apartment, I collapsed onto the narrow cot without even removing my shoes. As exhaustion dragged me toward unconsciousness, my last coherent thought was a prayer that I could make it through this week without completely falling apart.
A hard knock on my apartment door jolted me awake.
“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!” Bronwyn’s voice boomed through the door. “Your adoring public awaits!”
I groaned, squinting at my watch. 2:30 p.m. I’d been out for almost nine hours by the time I’d fallen asleep, yet somehow felt like I’d barely slept at all. My mouth was dry, and my head throbbed dully. A perfect start to what promised to be a hellish week.
“Give me ten minutes,” I called back, swinging my legs over the side of the cot.
“You’ve got five,” Bronwyn replied. “First reunion attendees just rolled in, and they’re asking for you specifically.”
Fantastic. I rummaged through my duffel bag, pulling out a fresh black Henley and dark jeans. After a quick trip to the small,attached bathroom, to splash water on my face and brush my teeth, I emerged looking marginally more human than I felt.
The bar was already humming with activity when I entered. The staff moved with practiced efficiency, setting up glassware and checking stock. Bronwyn stood behind the bar, deep in conversation with a young bartender who was nodding along to whatever instructions she was giving him. “There he is!” Bronwyn called out when she spotted me. “He returns.”
Several heads turned in my direction, and I forced a smile that I hoped didn’t look as pained as it felt. A few faces I recognized from high school looked back at me. They were older now, some with graying hair, others with expanding waistlines, but still, unmistakably, the same people who had watched my downfall all those years ago. That was all I could think of.
Justin drank a drink at the bar as Cam made his way back to his seat after returning from the restroom. He immediately caught my gaze.
I made my way behind the bar, nodding greetings as I went. Bronwyn slid a white apron toward me, which I tied around my waist with practiced ease.
“We’ve got Carolina Honey Wheat and Appalachian Apple Cider Ale on tap,” she informed me. “Both are selling like crazy. The fried pickles and pretzels with beer cheese are the big food items, they’re frozen in batches and defrosted as needed. The chicken wings though… huge hit.”
“Got it,” I said, already settling into service mode. Bartending had been my sanctuary for years, a space where I could focus on the mechanics of mixing drinks and leave everything else behind. Even in a town that had once been the site of my greatest humiliation, I was in control behind the bar.
The first hour passed in a blur of beer pulls, cocktail shakers, and half-remembered names. Each time the door opened, my eyes darted over, heart rate spiking with the possibility that itmight be him. Every time I looked over, I was both relieved and disappointed when it wasn’t him.
“Moses Morley, as I live and breathe!” a familiar voice boomed across the bar. I looked up to see Vanessa Newton, one of the few people from high school I’d kept in sporadic contact with over the years.
“Vanessa.” I grinned, and this time it was genuine. “How’s life treating Gomillion’s most eligible bachelorette?”
She laughed, sliding onto a barstool directly across from me. “Still keeping tabs on my relationship status, I see. I’m touched.”
“Just doing my civic duty,” I replied, already reaching for the gin I knew she preferred. “Hendrick’s and tonic, extra lime?”
