Dirty (Dive Bar #1)(52)
That’s all.
When would I learn? Just because my vagina was having fun didn’t mean my heart had to get all clingy.
“Babe,” he said. “Look at me.”
Reluctantly, I did.
“Thank you.”
I nodded.
“I’ve said it before, but … I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too.” The smile on my face felt foreign, wrong. Time for a reality check. Things that shouldn’t really mean anything were beginning to feel big and important, and that was neither necessary nor good.
Just friends having sex. Nothing more.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“What do you know about book work?”
I untied my apron, throwing it into the laundry hamper. “Inputting accounting data into a computer, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“A little. I can type. I’m familiar with the basic programs.”
We were out back in the small cluttered office, the lunch rush having finally eased. My fellow waiter, Masa, a young Japanese dude studying at the local tech college, had indeed been a delight. Working with him was fun. The Dive Bar might be a little light on staff right now, but those that were here were solid. Even Eric proved to be more than competent, keeping up with our drink orders while carrying on a conversation with a couple hanging at the bar.
“Why are you asking me this?” I inquired, schlepping myself over to the only spare chair in the room. “God? my feet hurt. You’re good with knives, chop them off for me. I don’t want them anymore.”
“Stop being a whiny little princess.”
“Seriously, they ache. If I keep doing this, I’m going to have to invest in better-soled shoes.”
Nell’s head shot up. “You’re thinking of staying?”
“What? No.” My stupid mouth opened, closed. “No, of course not. I don’t know where that came from. I already have a career, I’m a real estate agent.”
“No, you’re not. You got fired.”
“Thanks,” I replied drily. “Actually, I need to read over the settlement from the Delaneys tonight. Get that sorted out.”
“So you’ll be receiving a payout?” She set her elbows on the table and clasped her fingers together, watching me with bright beady little eyes. “How much, do you think?”
“Hopefully enough to buy me a decent used car and help me resettle somewhere else.” I crossed my legs, getting comfortable. “I honestly don’t know what it will be. I’m a little afraid to look. My savings are not immense.”
“You have a job here, a place to stay.”
“Nell, these are just emergency measures. You’ll find a new waiter and Vaughan will be gone soon, the house sold.”
She flinched.
Regret flooded me. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s the truth.” Her shiny red hair had been pulled back into a bun. It still seemed too bright against the pale of her cheeks, the shadows under her eyes. It was concerning.
“You’re still looking a little off. Do you think you might have caught whatever bug Rosie’s family has going around?”
“Maybe.” She scrunched up her face. “I’m just so damn tired lately. Everything’s getting to me.”
“You’ve been dealing with a lot.”
“Mm. Eric’s apologized and is carrying his weight again, but Pat still won’t step foot in the place. I don’t see that changing anytime this century.”
All I could do was frown on her behalf. Men sucked so bad sometimes.
“I just wish I had the money to buy him out,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. “My share of the tattoo shop doesn’t account for half of what I’d need. Going all out setting up this place is biting me on the ass.”
“If you hadn’t you wouldn’t have the booming growing business you’ve got. The investment was sound.”
“Yeah. Just a shame my marriage wasn’t.” Her eyes were glossy with tears. “I’m so proud of this place, Lydia. I can’t lose it.”
It was a hard situation. False promises wouldn’t help, so I kept my mouth shut.
A heavy sigh. “At any rate, how would you like some more work? We had a great bookkeeper, but she retired last Christmas. I was hoping between all of us we’d be able to keep on top of this, but it’s not happening. Joe’s got the computer and program all set up, ready to go. What do you say?”
I pinned my lips shut, considering the consequences. More money. Less time with Vaughan. A very sad thought indeed.
“It’d probably only take you a day or so to get us up to date,” Nell wheedled, flopping back in the seat. “And you’d be sitting down the entire time. I guarantee it won’t hurt your feet at all. Please, Lydia?”
“You already used ‘please’ on me today.”
“Pretty please?” The face she made was truly pathetic. Some sort of cross between a hound dog and a depressed redheaded sloth. It wasn’t pretty. “I’m willing to beg. Kissing your smelly feet I draw the line at, but begging could definitely happen.”
“God. Fine,” I said, slowly rising. “But you start looking for a new bookkeeper.”