Page 56 of Remember When We
“The Hook.”
I stood up. We were done here.
“Thank you. Thanks for sharing that.” I told him.
Right it was the time to take this to the next level.
I had a name and a place. It was all narrowed down to where I wanted it to be.
Captain Bailey Donovan, did you kill Marshall Carson?
I think you did …
I was going to find out why.
Chapter 17
Lyssa
Okay … I was nearly done.
I was just in the drinks cellar doing the stock take and audit, and I was nearly done. This was the part of working here that I hated—all the counting and shit.
I was terrible at math in school. I’d just passed the required level to get into Browns and had to work my ass off by the way. Having to do anything math related for a living to me was like living in hell.
One whole day of counting and checking felt exactly like hell. Thank goodness I had that time off from the salon, because I was able to get it all done today. And, with no help. Getting help meant I’d have one less person on the floor.
Thank God it ran smoothly too with everything checking out thanks to the tight shift and checking system I had.
We had a fully stocked bar out front and enough liquor to last through the summer.
More whiskey, vodka, and scotch were on order, because those were the most popular. Oh and we needed some more Prosecco.
It was popular in the summer with the college students. We weren’t that far from the campus of Temple University and one of the girls’ dorms.
They were in here on the regular, but with the Spring semester over the students who lived on campus and didn’t go home for the summer vacation always came here. They brought friends too.
They loved prosecco and cocktails. Sounded a little like me back in the day. I was a cocktail type of girl, loved a mojito or sex on the beach.
In my naughtier days with Gio, we’d gone out to the beach with a bottle of wine, drank the whole damn thing and had sex on the beach.
My cheeks burned at just the thought. Us now and then had no real difference. We were just older.
I guess more experienced too.
I hated thinking about him with other women. It was a thought that drifted into my mind though.
So not important in the grand scheme of things. I was just having some down time, shutting my brain down and directing my thoughts to foolishness.
It was the best word I could use to describe my thoughts. It felt like I’d been in this weird mode since yesterday when I realized the shit had definitely hit the fan.
Dad telling me he would take care of things was as good to me as him saying he’d brush the neighbor’s dog.
It basically meant nothing.
While I took on the mundane task of going over the stock, I thought of everything else we could do like sell the house.
Dad could sell the house and get something smaller—just for him. Matthew and I had to do that and the house was worth a lot. It would cover the debt and get Frankie off my back. I was thinking it was the biggest asset we had right now. The thought had come about now too, because we were going to Chicago.
