Forever Mine: Callaghan Brothers, Book 9(45)

Avoiding the question with a question of her own. Not a good sign.

Jack placed his index finger beneath her chin and gently drew her gaze to his. “Talk to me, Kathleen. What the hell is going on? Why are you picking up shifts at the diner?”

Her shoulders slumped and she exhaled heavily. “Fine. The bills came in from the electrician and the plumber, and we can’t afford to pay them.”

Kathleen couldn’t have surprised him more if she turned around and cracked him with her hairbrush. “What!?”

She shrugged. “Renovation is expensive.”

“We’re doing a good business.”

“Yeah, we are, but it’s not enough, not yet. And we’re losing even more because Danny’s been sneaking bottles out from behind the bar and sharing with his friends.”

Son of a bitch. “How deep in the hole are we?”

“Not too bad for just the two of us. But with a baby coming...”

Jack sat down on the rim of the tub and dragged his hands through his hair. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I wanted to avoid this. You’ve been putting everything you have into this place, Jack. I thought if I picked up a few more jobs, we’d be okay.”

“Jesus, Kathleen.” It was like a solid punch to the gut, knocking the air out of him. His wife, his pregnant wife, was working extra jobs, because they needed the money. And he, in his cluelessness, hadn’t known a goddamned thing about either one.

The joy at finding out he was going to be a father was overshadowed by a wave of guilt and anger. The pub had been his idea. It was supposed to be a way for him to provide for her and their eventual family, not put them in debt and require her to work multiple fucking jobs.

He stood up and punched the wall, sending pieces of plaster flying.

“Don’t be angry, Jack.”

“Don’t be angry? Are you kidding me?” He hit the wall again, this time leaving a red stain on the dingy white. “My pregnant wife is working her ass off to support me and this goddamn money pit of a pub, and I’m not supposed to be angry?”

“Not you,” she said quietly. “Us. We’re in this together, Jack, and I’m just doing my part. You’re putting in sixteen hour days. When you’re not working the bar, you’re patching walls, fixing plumbing, sanding floors, building new cabinets, -—”

“I never should have bought this place. What the hell was I thinking?”

“Stop it. Now,” she said firmly, stepping close to him and wrapping her arms around his waist. “You were thinking of our future, and you were right. It’s tough now, but we’ll get through it.”

Jack felt some of the anger start to drain away. With her soft touch and steel core, she had a way of pulling him back. “I don’t deserve you.”

She chuckled against his chest. “No, probably not. But you’re stuck with me, Jack Callaghan, so you’d best just deal with it.”

Jack gathered her against him and kissed the top of her head. “Like I’d ever let you go.”

“You’re going to have to if I’m going to make it to Erin’s on time.”

He did, reluctantly, only by telling himself that he was going to find a way to fix this. The first thing he was going to do, was look at the books and see just how bad things were. It was something best done while Kathleen was at her sister’s.





Chapter Seventeen


––––––––

“Jack!”

“What?!” Jack looked up from the ledger to find Brian standing in front of him. Judging by the sharpness of Brian’s tone, it wasn’t the first time he’d called his name. Jack had been so immersed in the account books, he hadn’t heard much of anything.

“The distributor’s here, wants a check.” Brian thumbed over his shoulder at the middle-aged guy sitting at the bar with Danny Finnegan. Based on their smiles and laughter, they were on friendly terms.

“Did he pay for that drink?”

“No. The old man told me to put it on his tab.”

Jack snorted. That would have fine, if the old man ever actually paid his tab.

“Got an invoice?”

Brian held the piece of paper out to him. Jack looked it over, his brows furrowing as he read through the several lines of handwritten items. “That’s more than double the amount of Macallan we ordered last month.”

The top-shelf, single-malt Scotch was arguably one of the best, but at its hefty price tag, it was not one of the big sellers among the primarily blue-collar patrons. Brian’s eyes flicked back to Danny again, and Jack had a pretty good idea of where it was going.

His furrows deepened when he saw similarly inflated numbers for high quality bourbon, gin, and vodka. Who had adjusted the order? Brian wouldn’t have, not without running it by him first, and neither would Kathleen.

“Excuse me.” Jack approached the delivery man, glancing down at the name stitched onto the pocket of the blue button-down. Sal. “There’s been a mistake. This is more than I ordered.”

Sal shot a sideways glance at Danny, and Jack’s suspicions were confirmed. Danny had padded the order. That explained the bottles Kathleen had seen Danny sneaking out, as well as why he hadn’t noticed a hit on the inventory. It was hard to miss what you didn’t know you had.