“I can’t believe you convinced me to come here.” Julian huffs under his breath while trying to get the bartender’s attention. Last Call is packed with everyone who attended the game, so most of the employees are busy serving other patrons.
I lean against the counter. “You would’ve looked like a sore loser if you ignored Lorenzo’s invitation.”
“That’s because I am one.”
“Only because you lost to him of all people.”
Julian and Lorenzo have had an antagonistic relationship ever since the casino heir tried to buy up properties around the lake. Lorenzo makes Julian wary, and while I agree that there is something off about the guy, I don’t care enough to feel any sort of way about him.
If he wants to become mayor, let him. So long as I’m left unbothered and my donations to the town are responsibly spent, I couldn’t care less about Lake Wisteria politics.
The only reason I wanted to attend today’s celebratory happy hour at Last Call was because I overheard someone saying Ellie was coming. After she hung up on me the other night and then refused to hear me out today, this might be my best chance to speak with her, and I’m not about to blow it because of Julian’s bruised ego.
Getting Ellie to work for me is an inevitability, so the quicker she gets on board, the sooner Nico and I can move past this hiccup and begin repairing our damaged relationship. It’s not going to be easy—not by a long shot, especially with how affected Nico has been by my own problems—but Nico is worth the effort.
My son is the best part of my life, and I will slay every single one of my demons to make sure he doesn’t have any of his own.
Julian’s frown becomes more pronounced as he points between us. “We lost, no thanks to you, by the way.”
“I told you that I didn’t want to play.”
“Doesn’t mean you needed to let the other team win.”
My teeth grind together. “I didn’t.”
“Then explain why you always let Ellie steal an extra base while you stood around looking like you had never seen a woman before.”
“I was…distracted.”
“By what? Her ass?”
With an impressive burst of speed, I punch him in the arm hard enough to make him wince. “Cállate.” I look around to make sure no one heard him.
I didn’t intend to get distracted by Ellie, but her ass stole my attention every time she ran by me with a look of sheer concentration on her face.
Julian rubs his bicep with a frown. “Fuck. How much are you lifting now?”
“Enough to make you question bringing up Ellie’s ass again.”
The smile on Julian’s face sends warning bells ringing in my head. “No need to get defensive. Ellie is a single, good—” He cuts himself off when I pull my fist back. “I was going to say good-hearted, pinche pendejo.”
I ignore the urge to punch him while he focuses on catching the bartender’s attention again.
“I’ll be right back,” I say before heading past a group of people waiting for an open spot near the bar. I do a quick search for Ellie but come up empty, although I do notice two people I never expected to be seen together.
Lorenzo is whispering something into Lily’s ear that has her nostrils flaring and her cheeks turning red. I know she can hold her own when it comes to men, but my protective instincts rear their ugly head.
Before I have a chance to interfere, she shoves at Lorenzo’s chest, which only makes him laugh. He reaches for the hand that pushed him and plants a kiss across her knuckles.
Cállate: Shut up.
Pinche pendejo: Fucking asshole.
I pretend not to notice the way she teeters on her sneakers. Just like I act like I don’t see Lorenzo’s eyes sparkle when he catches the same move a second later.
I love Lily like a sister, but I have my own problems to deal with tonight, and none of them include Julian’s nemesis.
I return to the bar to find Julian returning his black card to his wallet.
“Here.” Julian passes me a bottle of Modelo before reaching for his own. “So, what’s your plan?”
“I don’t have one.” Besides showing up here, that is.
“You could start the conversation off by sharing how much Nico misses her.”
“Already tried that.”
His brows rise. “Damn. I thought that would work.”
“Me too.” Ellie is proving more difficult than I thought, but I’m not about to give up at the first sign of adversity.
“What about giving her a raise?”
“I have a feeling her pride costs more than any offer I’m willing to make.”
“Then you’ll just have to play dirty. I’m sure Nico would be more than willing to shed a few tears if it meant getting Ellie back.”
“I’m not about to use my son like a pawn on one of your chessboards.”
“It’s not using if he is willing.”
“That’s so screwed up.”
“So was firing Ellie without giving her a second chance. She was the greatest thing that happened to Nico in a long time, and you can’t deny it.”
A spike of hot jealousy shoots through my chest.
Julian glances in my direction. “What’s that look about?”
“Nothing.”
“Seemed like something to me.”
“Stop poking around for answers you’re not getting.”
His brow arches. “Sorry. Hard not to pry when you’re looking a little green.”
“I’m not envious.”
“Next time, try saying that without twitching.”
I release a heavy breath. “Fine. Slightly, but I’m working on it.”
“Why would you be envious in the first place?”
“Because if someone asked Nico to pick between me and Ellie, I’m not sure I’d like the answer.”
Julian’s explosion of laughter makes me frown.
“Did I say something funny?”
“You truly think your kid wouldn’t choose you?”
I don’t answer him.
He wipes the smile off his face. “You’re serious.”
“They share something special.”
Awareness dawns on him. “Is that why you fired Ellie?”
“No.”
“You’re intimidated by their relationship,” he states, completely ignoring me.
“I never said that.”
“Rafa.” Julian clamps his hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “Come on, man. You know Nico has a heart big enough for the two of you.”
I try to shake him off, but his hold remains tight.
“No one could ever replace you. He worships the ground you walk on, regardless of whatever rough patch you’re going through right now.”
I unleash a pent-up breath. “I wish things were better.”
“Maybe the trip will help.”
“If there even is a trip.”
Julian takes a long pull from his beer bottle. “Maybe you could…”
I stop paying attention to him once I catch Ellie’s blond hair out of the corner of my eye. She is surrounded by a group of people a few years younger than me, and they all cheer as two of the guys from my old soccer team show up with a tray of empty shot glasses and a bottle of tequila.
“To be young and drinking shots without consequences.” Julian sighs wistfully.
“You’re two years older than them.”
He grimaces. “It’s all downhill once you hit thirty.”
My frown deepens when I catch Ellie laughing at one of the guys, and my chest constricts at the carefree look on her face as she smiles at a few people who pull her into a hug.
God. What has gotten into you?
Julian glances over his shoulder. “She looks happy.” He laughs to himself. “Oh look. They’re toasting to her being unemployed.”
I shoot him a scathing look. “I can see that.”
I see the whole damn thing, including the way some asshole I recognize from my graduating class throws his arm around her and sloppily kisses her cheek.
Is that her boyfriend? She has gone on a few dates—that much I gathered from eavesdropping and her requesting time off—but I don’t remember her mentioning being in a relationship.
Don’t tell me you’re jealous?
No, of course I’m not jealous. Whatever discomfort I feel about her is strictly due to my anxiety about talking to her. My son is counting on me to fix things between us, and I can already tell it’s not going to be an easy battle, seeing as she’s toasting to me being a jerk.
Perhaps it’s best if I let Ellie loosen up a bit with a few shots before demanding some of her time. So instead of heading in her direction and pulling her away from the two guys closing in on her, I spend time with Julian, who is eventually joined by his girlfriend and Nico’s godmother, Dahlia.
I search the bar for her sister, Lily, hoping she can save me from third-wheeling, only to be disappointed when I can’t find her.
I love Dahlia almost as much as I love my cousin, but that doesn’t mean I love spending time with them together. Being anyone’s third wheel makes my skin itch and my chest painfully clench, and I’m desperate for an escape.
Luckily, someone starts up the old karaoke machine that has been around since Julian’s parents got together in this same bar decades ago, and Dahlia quickly joins the line of people who want to give it a go. Julian asks me to save him, but I only push him away with a half-assed salute.
A few people attempt to strike up a conversation with me, but their efforts die once I give only a few one-word answers. I don’t actively try to be a dick, but I’m not the most pleasant conversationalist.
I scan the back of the bar where Ellie was seated, only to find the spot empty. People near the stage whistle before an “Ellie” chant begins.
“I see you all got me tipsy on purpose.” A soft chuckle follows the voice I’d recognize anywhere.
A couple of confirmatory shouts follow. The first chords of a song begin to play from the speakers lining the stage.
“I love you!” a woman shouts from the side, and I follow the sound to Willow, who has her phone in the air, high above the crowd so she can record the stage.
Ellie shakes her head with a small smile. “Some of you might have heard a version of this song already—”
“Screw Ava Rhodes!” someone yells.
Ava Rhodes, as in the pop star? I knew she grew up here and all, but I haven’t given her music much of a listen outside of a few popular songs Dahlia and Lily like. Most people around here aren’t fans of her, although I’ve never bothered to ask why. I just assumed it had something to do with her turning her back on the town she grew up in.
Ellie’s already flushed cheeks turn crimson. “Anyway, I don’t think some of you have heard it like this before.”
The song restarts, and she shuts her eyes.
Her foot taps against the worn wood floor beneath her, and her hips move to the music, drawing my gaze toward her legs again. I try to gain control of my roaming eyes, but the task proves increasingly difficult as the spotlight above her head turns on.
Like a siren calling me toward a watery grave, Ellie pulls me into a hypnotic trance as soon as her lips part and the first line of lyrics pours out of her mouth. I want nothing more than to drown in the sound of her raspy voice.
I’ve never heard her sing before. Anytime she plays, her lips remain sealed, although given her clear talent, I’m questioning why she doesn’t more often.
One a.m., lying in my bed, wondering which husband’s coming home to greet me.
Could it be the man I married, or the one who smells of cheap roses and bottom-shelf whiskey?
Three a.m., bleeding red, pleading for someone to come save me and my baby.
Ominous lyrics weave a story about an abusive husband and his broken wife, and the slow buildup to the chorus has everyone swaying on their feet. Although the backing track matches the same popular song that most of the nation knows, these lyrics are different. Darker.
This version leans toward folk music, and I don’t need to listen to the whole thing to wish it replaced the mainstream rendition.
Ellie’s soft voice is thick with emotion, and her eyes have a sheen to them by the time she gets to the final verse. I don’t hear her because I’m too caught up in watching a tear roll down her cheek, the evidence of her pain written clear as day across her face.
She may wipe it away with the tip of her tattooed finger, but I see it.
Just like I see her.
I have no right to be curious about her and the past I hardly know much about, but I can’t deny the strong tug in my chest that I feel whenever I look over at her. It is the same one I felt when she first started working for me, back before I became consumed by my turbulent emotions, and one I should be wary of given my past. I’m not here because of whatever interest Ellie stirs inside me when I least expect it.
I’m here for Nico.
The last chord plays, and the bar breaks out in a roar of applause, prematurely ending the spell she cast on me.
Spell?
Fuck.
Ellie tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and holds out the microphone for the next person in line like she didn’t just set the bar through the stratosphere.
“Yeah, there’s no way I am going up there after that.” The person standing beside the stage disappears into the crowd.
“Anyone else want to try?” She shakes the microphone.
No one volunteers, and I don’t blame them. With a voice like hers, she could be doing a lot more than nannying for my family, which begs the question why isn’t she?
