Page 144 of Hopeless
And how the hell I’m going to fix us so I don’t spend the rest of my life feeling like Beau Eaton’s pet project.
40
Beau
Beau:Gary wants me to tell you he’s on your side.
Bailey:He fucking better be.
Beau:I’m on your side too.
Bailey:You fucking better be.
Iknock on Bailey’s door.
She said she needed time, and I don’t blame her. I’d want a break from me too. Unfortunately, I’m stuck with myself—hating myself—and obsessing over how to make this right. Last night, I went back to the bar to help out. Came back just in time to watch her swim in the river by herself from the top of the bank like a total creep. Then went to bed, where I didn’t sleep a wink and laid awake despising myself instead.
I see a swish of her curtains. Movement. A sure sign that she’s in there and knows I’m standing out here like a sad puppy.
“I’m not done being mad at you,” is what she calls from inside.
My lips twitch. She sounds so … huffy. And I can take this. I can take her being mad at me. I can wait her out. I will happily wait her out.
“That’s fine. I just came to bring you breakfast and your tips from last night. And a little something else.”
I glance down at the tray in my hands. Coffee. Scrambled eggs. Strawberries. Cash. Envelope.
Her door swings open and my heart lurches in my chest. Her eyes are puffy, thick hair drawn back in a high ponytail.
“Why are you bringing me tips?”
“Because it was your shift.”
“I quit.”
“I worked it for you anyway.”
She sniffs and her nose wiggles as she glances away. “Didn’t know you could bartend.”
“I can’t, and Gary was really mean to me all night.”
Her dark eyes laser in on me and I can see her fighting her lips into a downward curve at that tidbit. “Good.”
“Here.” I hold the tray out to her and sigh with relief when she takes it and I see my ring still on her finger.
“What’s in the envelope? Why does it say #teambailey on it?”
I shrug. “Some people from town dropped by with cash to help with your new unemployment status. Gary wrote the hashtag.”
“People from town? Gavemecash?”
“It would seem you going off on them had an effect. You may have inspired some … remorse?”
She sniffs. “I don’t want their cash. Don’t need it.”
“Well, good luck returning it. There’s a lot in there. From multiple different people and businesses. I don’t think they know how to say sorry to you, and this is the best they could come up with.”
Her irises widen as she stares down at the tray, lips lightly parted like she’s ready to say something but can’t find the words. To be fair, I was surprised too.
