Rush: The Season (Austin Arrows Book 1)(14)

Damn it.

Turning, I see Mark and Red … err … Amber … along with Phoenix, Tarik, Spencer, Coach Moen, and Phil the Lawyer standing in a huddle.

“You can stay.” Phoenix nods in my direction.

Well, f*ck.

Just when I think I might survive the morning.





Ellie

As I lie on my bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting for Noelle to call me back, I pull up Twitter and shoot off a tweet: Sleep is overrated. But only to people who don’t need to freaking sleep.

I’m hoping she sees that.

It’s been a long morning already. Once again, Bianca refused to be ready in time to catch the bus, so I had to take her to school. Granted, she seemed in a better mood today, and I even told her I liked the pink hair, which I’ve actually gotten used to. However, once I got back from dropping her off, I got caught up in watching the morning news and didn’t get to sleep when I should have. And now, I’m so tired I can hardly keep my eyes open, but I know my business partner wouldn’t be calling me unless it was urgent.

Well, mostly urgent.

Okay, she wouldn’t be calling unless it was important. To her. She’s done this plenty of times before.

Like the time she called because she found a box of chocolates and wanted to know if they were mine. They were. She ate them anyway.

Then another time when she called to ask if I knew where the mop was. I didn’t. She found it when she went out to the floor and saw one of the bus boys cleaning up a spill.

Another time when she called to see if I had checked the weather or not. I hadn’t. She was worried that she should’ve brought a coat with her to work (although she doesn’t ever have to go outside).

But my favorite was when she called me from the phone at the bar to see if I’d seen her door key. She insisted she’d lost it the night before. I asked her how she got into the building to call me…

Not only is she my business partner, Noelle Dexter is also my best friend, and I love her to the moon and back, so I can forgive her for never letting me sleep.

Second only to my daughter, my sports bar—the Penalty Box—is my pride and joy and has been ever since Noelle and I opened the place three years ago. When my parents tragically died in a boating accident, they left enough money for me to kick-start my dream. Being that I’m a single mother, I had lost sight of that dream for a while, never believing it would come to fruition.

Prior to their sudden and tragic deaths, I had been saving every penny I could to be able to make my dream a reality. My brother had offered to loan Noelle and me the money for the bar, but we both refused. We wanted to make it on our own, and we didn’t want another partner in the business, although he would’ve been a great partner.

Although bittersweet, the money has come in handy, giving me an opportunity to provide for my daughter in ways I never thought possible and allowing my big brother to stop worrying so much. So, after we found an impressive piece of real estate in the booming city of Cedar Park, Texas, Noelle and I opened up the bar, and we haven’t looked back.

Due to the fact that both Noelle and I enjoy working, we decided in the beginning that we would split the shifts. Because I’m the main bartender—a profession I pursued when I was eighteen—we figured it was best if I worked the late shift when the bar is busiest, while Noelle comes in when we open at eleven. She handles the lunch rush and is far better at dealing with the kitchen than I am.

Fortunately, we’re at a point where we do enough business to hire people to fill in for us, so now we pretty much work because we want to, not because we have to. I’m more than willing to do my fair share, but I refuse to focus solely on working. They say that when you own your own business, you work more—which I find to be true—but I’ve always made sure not to get my priorities mixed up. My daughter is my main focus, and the last thing I want to do is to neglect her because of the restaurant.

I glance over at the clock on my nightstand.

It’s eleven fifteen.

That means I’ve been asleep for roughly two hours and Noelle has been at the restaurant for probably an hour. The lunch rush is always hectic, which I assume is why she had to practically hang up on me less than a minute into our conversation.

Rolling over, I set my phone on the pillow. Surely I’ll hear it if I go back to sleep. There’s no telling when she’ll call me bac—

My phone rings and I snatch it up, hitting the talk button. “What’s up?”

“Sorry ’bout that. We’re slammed. And I’m so, so sorry for calling and waking you up.”

“No problem,” I tell her, although my tone says it’s definitely a problem.

“Where’s the extra chicken wings that you ordered on Friday? I thought they were supposed to be delivered today?”

I roll onto my back again. “I have no idea. I’m not there.”

“Well, no shit. And neither is the chicken. Lance is freaking out.”

I smile to myself, thinking about our infamous chef. The guy’s definitely good at what he does, but he’s a bit of a diva when he doesn’t have what he needs. Not that I would ever let him know I thought so. I’d probably lose an eye or something. He’s got some pretty sharp knives in that kitchen.

“I really don’t know,” I explain to Noelle. “It’s supposed to be there by now. Do you want me to come in and check on it?”