Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 91937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
“Most likely,” I say, hating it but knowing I have no choice. I think even Wyatt knows this is my last resort. “Sorry, buddy,” I apologize to him, “but for now, I have no choice.”
“Okay, Mom,” he replies softly and looks out the window. My heart squeezes in my chest as I tap my finger on the steering wheel. Mr. Mendelson is waiting for us in his rocker, and the smile on his face is huge when we pull up. Wyatt is out of the car door, shouting for him.
He runs up the steps, hugging Mr. Mendelson around the waist and looking up at him. “I was practicing my math,” he tells him.
“That’s good news,” he praises. “I just put dinner in the oven, so we can work on the math until then.”
I look over at him as I walk up the first step. “Thank you,” I say and hand him two loaves of raspberry cake that I made this morning. “This is for you. Will you let me pay for dinner?”
“Aren’t you leaving?” Mr. Mendelson teases. “Get off my porch,” he tries to say with a firm tone but smiles while he says it.
I laugh before turning and leaving, wanting to get there before my shift starts. I don’t even know how the night will go after the exchange on my porch. When he sat there, I didn’t even know what the fuck he was trying to say. I was exhausted from sleeping maybe an hour and a half before the alarm rang for me to get up and get to baking. I was on two cups of coffee and half a piece of toast by the time he walked up to me. So, I might have also been hangry, but I always get defensive when people talk about how I parent.
Parking in the back of the bar, I grab my purse before walking to the front of the building. I see it’s almost slammed full. The nerves come to me faster than I can push them away, and I give myself a pep talk. I walk toward the bar, seeing Brady behind it, going back and forth. “Hey,” he says when he sees me, “do you think you can clock in right away?” I nod before walking to the small closet and hanging my purse and grabbing my cell phone. I walk over to the bar and spot Janelle going nuts. “You got that side,” Brady explains, pointing at the tables on the side. “They’ve been here since 2:00 p.m.,” he says, putting drinks on the tray. “They should be leaving soon, but I think they just ordered food.” I stare at him and take in his dark eyes that look lighter in the sun. “That’s for that table over there.” He points from the tray toward the table with five men sitting around it.
“Got it,” I confirm, taking a deep breath. “Here goes nothing.” I turn with the tray and the five drinks, trying not to spill anything before looking back at Brady. “What are these?” I ask of the five glasses that look the same.
He smirks at me. “Whiskey.”
I ignore the urge to make a face at him and go straight to glaring at him. “Are they all the same?”
“Yeah, they are.” He nods before he looks over at Janelle, who hands him a white ticket. He grabs the ticket from Janelle. I would think for someone who is dating the other someone, he should maybe take it with less attitude.
I turn on my heel and walk over to the table. “Hey there.” I put a smile on my face. “I’m Harmony,” I introduce myself, “I’ll be taking care of you gentlemen tonight.” I put down the first drink in front of a man, who smiles at me and thanks me. “If you need anything, let me know.”
“Will do,” the second man says, grabbing his own drink when I hand it to him.
By the time I hand all five drinks out, I turn to see Brady wave me over, and I walk toward him. “You rang?” I ask sarcastically, and maybe I shouldn’t be fucking with my boss.
“This is for that table.” He points over to another table. “Whiskey on the rocks.” He points at the glass with the ice. “Vodka neat.” He points at the other glass that looks like it has water in it. “Vodka soda.” He points at the drink beside it that looks fuller than the other, but with little bubbles in it. “I’ll get the next one going,” he states, turning and walking back to do more drinks when the door to the back opens, and I see Autumn coming in. I freeze in my tracks and so does she when she sees me. I don’t know if I should deliver the drinks or run out of the bar. I don’t have to wait long because it takes her less time to get her footing than me.