Hey, Whiskey Read online

“Fine,” I say through gritted teeth.

  “I can tell,” he says with a laugh.

  “I’m over the dumb shit, D. You don’t know how good you have it with Dawn.”

  “What’s this? Rhett Baxter’s ready to settle down?” he mocks me.

  “Fuck off,” I say, not able to hide my smile. “I’m not opposed to it, but fucking hell, man. Not going to happen with chicks like her.”

  “Truth.” He holds his beer up, and I do the same as we clink them together. “Here.” He slides me a menu then signals for the waitress. “Order some food. Maybe it will help this piss ass mood you’re in.”

  I don’t need the damn menu. We’ve been coming here for years. The waitress appears, and I order enough for an army. The rest of the night goes smooth. Dawn comes back over once Tessa and the other girls head out. Apparently, she realized tonight just wasn’t her night. Hopefully she understands it’s never going to be her night, not with me. Once last call is announced, it’s time to head home. I say goodbye to Doug and Dawn, and as I watch them walk away, I tramp down the envy I have for my best friend as I head home alone.

  A walk in the cold November weather did me some good. I’m hoping my cheeks are not as puffy. I’ll be able to pull off the redness, blaming it on the cold wind, should anyone ask, not that they would since I don’t know them. When I reach the bar, the Corner Pocket, I stare in through the window. It’s busy, which is a good thing. I hope to be invisible. I just need a drink, or twenty, to forget this shit-tastic day.

  Taking a deep breath, I wrap Elaine’s sweater a little tighter and pull open the door. To my relief, no one turns to look my way. Everyone is too engrossed in what they’re doing to pay attention to me. Seeing an open seat at the end of the bar, I slide into it, placing my phone on the bar and rubbing my cold hands together.

  “What can I get for you?” a girl who looks to be close to my age with long blonde hair asks with a smile.

  I point to the bottle of Baxter’s original on the shelf behind her. “Make it a double,” I say.

  She smiles and works on getting my shot. “You want a tab?” she asks.

  I nod, pouring back my first shot. The burn instantly warms me from the inside out.

  “Another?” she asks, still holding the bottle.

  “No, thank you. A beer, anything on tap is fine.”

  She smiles. “Let’s stick with the tradition, shall we? We have a Baxter’s Lager on tap.”

  I nod, letting her know that’s fine. Sitting back in my stool, I focus on letting my body relax as I thaw out from the cold. Thoughts of Pete and his betrayal are buried deep, and I refuse to let my mind go there. The bartender places my beer in front of me with the promise to check on me again soon.

  Taking a swig of my beer and grabbing my phone, I start looking for a new job. I hate that I’ve just gotten comfortable where I am, and now I have to leave. It can’t be avoided. I can’t work with them. I scroll through pages and pages of human resources jobs and flag a few to apply to when I get back to the hotel.

  “Job hunting?” the bartender asks.

  I look up, startled. I didn’t realize she was standing there. “Yeah, unfortunately. Boyfriend decided to have a baby and marry someone else. We live and work together. It’s actually his family’s business, so I’m definitely in the market for a new job.” I clamp my hand over my mouth to stop the word vomit. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

  She laughs. “What do you do?” she asks, pointing to my now empty glass.

  “Refill?”

  “Yes, please. My degree is in human resources, but I’ve been where you are too. I slung drinks all through college.”

  “Really? Where?”

  “Cincinnati. Tuff’s little hole in the wall, cheap beer, and college students,” I say with a laugh.

  “Sounds like my kind of place. We get some college crowd too. We have a good mix here.”

  “Are you the owner?”

  “No, well, not really. My fiancé, Jake, owns this place. He took over a couple of years ago. His uncle used to own it.”

  “This might be out of line, but the alcohol is settling and my filter is, well, not filtered.” I chuckle. “But you’re close to my age, right? Twenty-two?”

  “Yep. Care to tell me how you slung drinks all through college?” She smirks.

  “Funny story, the owner was not one of the… legal variety. He was good with paying me under the table, and I took it. I was careful, and if anyone came in who looked like they could be there for reasons other than throwing a few back, I went to the kitchen or stocked the bar. I was never working alone, which made it nice.”

  She whistles. “You got lucky,” she says.

  I shrug. “Yeah, I guess so. Looking back, I can see it was a bad move on my part, and his. At the time, I was in need of a job with no experience and a college class schedule to work around. It worked.”

  “Well, I’m glad it worked out for you.”

  “Yeah, hindsight is twenty-twenty, isn’t that what they say?”

  “Who is they?” She laughs.

  I can’t help it, this causes me to laugh too. “I have no idea.”

  “What’s your name?” she asks, once her laughing subsides.

  “Saylor,” I say, holding my hand out for her.

  “Nice to meet you, Saylor. I’m Molly.” We shake hands. I let mine drop, but Molly is still watching me. “You know, we’re hiring,” she says.

  “Really?” I ask. “For?”

  “Bar, you’re legal now.” She winks.

  “I just might have to apply. I also need to find a place to live. Boyfriend is moving in his baby mama, aka future wife, I’m sure. I have to go there tomorrow and get all my stuff, only I have no idea where to take it. You think the hotel will look at me like I’m crazy if I bring in a ton of boxes?” I ask, running off at the mouth again. I’d like to blame it on the alcohol, but I haven’t had that much. It’s the drama in my life that’s causing it. Pete, he caused me to be where I am at this exact moment.

  “I might be able to help you with that too. We have a garage apartment. Needs some paint, but we could work out a price.”

  “Are you my guardian angel?” I ask her. She laughs, but I’m dead serious. Funny how Tara’s offer of her garage apartment wasn’t appealing, but Molly’s is.

  “No, but I have good instincts, and I can tell you’re good people, just shit luck with the dick boyfriend.”

  “Hey, babe,” A tall, dark-haired, inked-up god says, placing his hands on Molly’s hips and kissing her neck.

  “Jake, this is Saylor. Saylor, this is my fiancé, Jake. I was just telling Saylor here about our opening for bartender. She’s got experience, but she also just so happens to be looking for a place to stay. Long story, but boyfriend screwed her over and she moved here for him.”

  “Hey, I didn’t tell you that part,” I say, confused as to how she would know.

  Molly shrugs. “I guessed. Why else would you need a place to stay unless you had no one else in town?”

  If she only knew how true that statement is—not just in town, but in life in general. I have Tara, but I can’t go home to Cincinnati. With Elaine not being there, it hurts too much. I’d rather risk running into Pete and his baby mama than go back to where everything reminds me that my only family is no longer there. Placing my hand over my chest, I try to rub the ache away that appears any time I let myself think about my foster mom.

  “Nice to meet you, Saylor,” Jake rumbles, offering me his hand.

  Reaching out, I take it. “You too.”

  “We have a garage apartment,” he tells me.

  Molly grins and winks.

  “Let’s talk rent. I’ll need to find a new job. I can’t go back to mine,” I tell them.

  “What? You don’t want to work here?” Jake places his hand over his chest as if he’s offended. I worry until I see the grin tilt his lips. “We need a bartender.” He points to the window behind me. Turning, I see the help wanted si
gn. “When can you start?” he asks.

  “Just like that?”

  He wraps his arms around Molly again. “My girl thinks you’re good people, that’s all I need to know.”

  “Wow. I can’t… I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say ‘I accept the job, and when can I move in?’” Molly grins.

  I’ve never been one to believe in fate, being in the right place at the right time, and all of that. Life sucks. It’s hard and messy, and bad things happen to good people. But there are those times when good things happen to good people too. Like when your social worker gets tired of seeing you bounce from home to home and takes you in herself. Or the time you’re in a random bar after a life-altering revelation from your boyfriend.

  “Saylor?” Molly says.

  Looking up, I see they’re both watching me. Waiting. “I accept the job, and when can I move in?” I smile at them.

  “Let’s get you moved in first. Like I said, it needs some paint. How about you meet me here tomorrow morning around eleven? We can go pick out paint and get started. We need to get you out of that hotel. Once it’s painted, Jake and I will help you get your stuff from dick’s place.”

  “Dick?” Jake asks.

  “Her ex,” Molly tells him.

  “Suits him,” he laughs.

  “His name is Pete, actually. But I have to agree dick fits.”

  “Okay, so tomorrow. Let’s get you moved in and settled, and then we’ll get you behind the bar.”

  “Are you sure? You can hold the job until then?” I ask.

  Molly waves me off. “We’re fine, Saylor.”

  I grab my purse and pull out my debit card. “I guess I should get going.” I hand Molly my card. “I can’t thank both of you enough for this. I don’t… thank you,” I finally say. I was about to release more of my woes, but they don’t need to hear that. They’ve helped me more than they will ever know.

  “It’s on the house,” Jake says, pushing my hand away. “Consider it a social interview.”

  “Really, I insist.” I hold the card out again.

  “Your money is no good here.” He gently pushes my hand away again. “I got to go check on the other side.” He kisses Molly, this time on the lips, waves to me, and off he goes.

  “Molly, really, I feel terrible. You’re doing so much.” I try to hand her my card.

  “Nope.” She grins. “Be here in the morning, Saylor. We’ve all been there, fell on hard times. We’re happy to help.”

  “Thank you. Thank you so much,” I say, shoving my card back into my wallet.

  “You driving?” she asks me.

  “No.” I shake my head. “I walked from the hotel just around the corner.”

  “You want a ride? It’s cold out there.”

  “No, I’m good.”

  “It’s late. You don’t need to be walking on your own. Let me drive you.” She walks away and says something to Jake, and he nods. Instead of Molly, Jake is the one who walks toward me.

  “I’ll take you. No reason for a woman to be out late on her own.” He pulls his keys from his pocket. “My truck is out back, come on.” He motions for me to follow him, and I do.

  I don’t know what it is, but I know I can trust him, both of them. I wave to Molly and mouth “thank you” as I follow Jake past the bar, down the hall past what I assume is his office, and then a few more doors to the back door. He holds it open for me, and to my surprise, his truck is running.

  “Remote start.” He holds up his key fob.

  “Nice. Thank you again for everything,” I say once we’re in the truck.

  “It’s a two-minute drive. It’s not a problem, Saylor.”

  Like he said, the ride is short. I take off my seat belt and open the door. “Thank you, Jake, and thank Molly for me too.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Saylor.” He waves and drives off as soon as I have the door closed.

  Once I’m back in my room, I realize I have nothing. I have a few clothes that I left at Elaine’s when I moved here, but it’s late, so going down to my SUV to dig through boxes isn’t an option. Instead, I kick off my shoes and pull back the blankets. My phone is about to die as well. I’m out of sorts, yet I feel like there is hope. Hope for the future that a few short hours ago looked bleak. Hope that life moves on, you keep moving forward taking baby steps one day at a time.

  I wake to the sound of the neighbors in the room next to mine getting in the shower. This is a nice hotel, but as with most, the walls are paper thin. Took me a while to fall asleep last night, and a quick glance at the clock on the nightstand tells me it’s too damn early to be up. I don’t have to meet Molly for five more hours, I’m the type of girl, once I’m up, I’m up for the day. I lived in foster homes that I had to be up for chores before school. Getting up early is something I’ve always done even when I lived with Elaine. Old habits die hard and all that. There were a few times when I tried to convince Pete to just stay in bed all day, but he shot the idea down faster than I could finish getting the words out of my mouth. You can’t make money sleeping in. Or in his case, you can’t knock up your employee sleeping in. He was always out of the house early, coming in late. Hell, I never once questioned him.

  Live and learn.

  Climbing out of bed, I slip on my shoes, grab my room key, and head down to the parking lot. I need to either go buy some clothes or find something in my car that will work for today. It’s a chilly morning, and I can see my breath as soon as I step outside. I jog to my SUV, unlock the back door, and start to dig through boxes. I find an old faded pair of jeans with holes in the knees. They were always my favorite, but Pete never liked them. I can’t remember his exact words, something about dressing below my grade. Just another shit thing to say. Looking back, there were several. I’m not sure why I stayed with him as long as I did. No, that’s not true. I do know. I cared about him. He was the first guy to show me affection, and I latched on like a spider monkey. During the early years, we were good together. Yeah, there were offhanded comments and he was particular about things, but I wanted to make him happy. I didn’t think much of it. Today, I’m seeing things in a whole new light. He was using me. All this time. I’m sure Tabitha, AKA, baby mama, isn’t the first. I shudder at the thought. Time to call and make an appointment to be tested.

  Jeans in hand, I dig a little further and find an old Def Leppard concert T-shirt and an Ohio State hoodie. Digging a little further, I find a sports bra, some cotton panties—the kind Pete hated and complained every time I wore them—and a pair of socks. Luckily, my old tennis shoes are in a reusable shopping bag. I empty the bag of shoes, leavening my Nike’s and adding my clothes. That’s everything I need, except for my cell phone charger. Locking my doors, I rush back inside. The girl behind the counter greets me with a cheery “good morning” as I enter the lobby.

  “Good morning,” I mumble my reply and hightail it to the elevator. In the room, I empty the bag on the bed and lay the clothes out. There are enough wrinkles in them as it is. Sure, there’s an iron, but that’s what Pete would expect. Today, I’m rolling with it. Besides, I’m just going to buy paint and, hopefully, start painting. Stripping out of my clothes, I head to the shower, grabbing the complimentary shampoo, conditioner, and soap off the sink. I take my time, letting the hot water beat down on me. My mind races with the last twenty-four hours, and a sob breaks free from my chest. I hate him and care for him at the same time. I loved him, I did. I thought we were happy, and I guess we were. I just wasn’t enough for him.

  I wish Elaine were here. She was always my calming voice of reason. I stressed over leaving her and moving here with Pete. She insisted that I needed to live my life for me, and here we are six months later, she’s gone and so is he, and that leaves me… alone. My legs tremble. Resting my back against the shower wall, I slide to the floor, burying my face in my knees, and let the tears fall. I cry for Elaine, for Pete, for the life I thought we were building.

  Nothing ever stays the same.


  I stay in the shower until the water runs cold. Slipping into my old comfort clothes, I dial room service and order some breakfast. I choose comfort food, biscuits and gravy with a side of bacon. I’d never had it until I went to live with Elaine. It quickly became my favorite. I make a mental note to pull out her old recipe and work at perfecting it. Breakfast finished, I grab my keys, phone, purse, and head toward the Corner Pocket. I’m going to be early, but I’d rather wait on Molly than her wait on me. She’s given me a place to stay and a job; I owe her everything.

  To my surprise, Molly is already at the Corner Pocket. She’s sitting in her car talking on her cell phone. She waves, and I motion to let her know that I’ll drive.

  “Thanks,” she says, after opening the passenger door and climbing in. “You want to see the place first, get an idea of what color paint you want?”

  “Honestly, it could be shit brown with bright orange polka dots and I’d be good with it. Thank you so much, Molly. Really,” I say for emphasis.

  “You’re doing us a favor actually. We’ve been meaning to get it together and just haven’t done it.”

  “We need to talk about rent,” I remind her.

  “Why don’t we go take a look first. Then you can decide if you think you can live there.”

  “I don’t have the option to be picky right now.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what you’re going through,” she says softly.

  Just like last night, the word vomit erupts. “I moved here for him, with him actually. We went to college together, and he was from here. We both work for his family’s real estate business.”

  “Wait? What’s this guy’s name?”

  “Pete Victor, you know him?”

  She scoffs. “Yeah, I know him. He’s an ass. We all went to school together. He thinks he’s entitled.”

  “Yeah,” I say softly.

  “Saylor, I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me.”

  “No, you’re right. I just wish I found out a little sooner, before I left it all for him.”

  “What about your family? Is moving back to Cincinnati out of the question?”