Page 26 of The Quit List
To be honest, she looked way too pleased to have a good excuse not to go out to the backcountry herself, and also to be honest, I have no idea how she’s going to help if she’s not actually out there to take pictures and videos… but I’m not the social media expert.
And anyways, before I do any of that, Maddie suggested that I get my booking system set up. You know, so that all the people she brings in through social media can actually book a trip.
My sister has a pretty decent amount of sass for a person who once came to me bawling because she was worried her Christmas cookies weren’t “bringing enough holiday joy.”
Needless to say, it looks like I still have a lot of work to do to get this damn business off the ground.
Not to mention I should also work out how to apologize to Maddie and Seb for referring to their future firstborn as “indigestion” and show them that I’m totally on board for this godfathering gig.
I should get them something. Baby gifts are a thing, right? I think as I whip off my t-shirt, shrug on a long sleeve, and head inside, Rick prancing at my feet.
Dante pokes his head up from behind the bar, where he’s stocking the low fridges with mixers. “Hey, man. What’s up?”
“Not much,” I lie.
As Dante gives Rick some love, I do a quick mental count of the bottles stacked behind the bar. “Gonna get Rick set up in the front office, then I’ll grab some vodka from the storage room. You need anything?”
“All good here. Just wondering who the hell is gonna keep this bar stocked once you abandon ship.” He gives me a wink, ruffles Rick’s head one last time, and then goes back to stocking, humming to himself.
I roll my eyes but tug at my sleeves, thankful that I brought a long-sleeve shirt for my shift. The goal is to make it through this evening with no intrusive questions or wild theories from my coworker, and I have a feeling he’d have a field day with the not-cougar-mauling on my arms.
After getting Rick settled down in his dog basket out in the front office—he’s not allowed in the restaurant itself, but Orlagh, who sits in the office on Monday nights to order stock, loves to have his company for the evening—I grab the keys to the storage room and make my way across the restaurant towards it.
I’m walking past the front doors when they suddenly swing open.
Which startles me—we’re not technically open yet and these doors should be locked—but before the doors open fully…
They shut.
Then open again.
What is this, a very strong wind?
They’re on their way to shutting again when I reach for the handles and yank. Hard.
The doors fly open (definitely not the wind, then) and I poke my head out to see what the problem is. “Sorry, we’re not open ye—Oh, it's you.”
Standing in front of me is none other than Holly. She looks like she practically ran here, judging by the light sheen of sweat on her forehead and the disheveled hair. Her shiny pink lips are shinier than they were when I was talking to her in the park earlier, like she took a moment to reapply her lip gloss before opening the front doors.
And for some reason, this makes me smile. She’s like an unfortunate romance movie heroine. A real life Hollywood starlet.
She laughs sheepishly as I look at her in confusion. “Yes. It’s me. Hi.”
“Can I… help you?” I frown as I assess her. She seems concerned (nothing new here), but it immediately raises my hackles. “Wait, did the guy finally show up and try something? Is that why you ran here?”
I’m peering past her into the street, ready to throw down, when she puts a hand on my arm. “No, no. He most definitely did not show up.”
I relax. “Oh. Okay. Let me guess, you have another date lined up here at the bar this evening.” My lips slide into a smirk. It’s just so easy—and enjoyable—to tease this woman. “Two in one day, even if the last guy was a no-show. That’s some serious commitment.”
“No. I’m, um…” Holly shifts awkwardly on her feet, then exhales. “I’m here to see you, actually.”
“Oh?”
She opens her mouth. Stalls. Wrinkles her nose. Takes a deep breath.
“I think you’re who I’ve been looking for.”
I blink. “I’m sorry?”