Chaser (Dive Bar #3)(36)

“I’m not sure I could work for someone else again, here or somewhere else,” said Lydia. “It was so horrible being at the real estate agency, having those assholes just fire me like I was nothing. Being in charge of myself, having a say in everything … I like it. Chances are, the first time anyone gives me crap about something, I’d tell them to get screwed.”

Nell snorted. “Yeah, me too.”

“So we start up somewhere else?” I shrugged. “It’s an option.”

“There’d be limits on our ability to do that. How soon and how close to the Dive Bar,” said Nell. “They’d legally tie us up to protect their interests here. Make sure we don’t steal any of the customers.”

Lydia nodded.

I cocked my head. “I don’t know how I’d feel about just walking away, you know? Would they let us work for them?”

“Back to what Lydia was saying.” Nell pointed in her direction. “Eric, would you really be able to handle someone telling you how to run your bar? Telling you what you could and couldn’t do?”

“You do that already.”

She snorted. “Not even remotely to the extent that another actual manager would. And what if they want to make their imprint on the place, alter things, and redecorate … change the name, completely transform the vibe of the place?”

“You’re right. This is the Dive Bar,” I said, more than a little outraged. “This place has been the Dive Bar since back in the seventies or so. There’s real history here. Sure it’s largely cheap beer and gaudy, shameful shit. But it’s still real local history.”

“They’ll change my menu,” said Nell.

I frowned. “So? You change the menu all the time.”

“It’s different when I do it. For starters, I know what I’m doing.” She crossed her arms. “They’ll probably be like those idiots who are all, ‘And here’s a serving of organic chicken breast in a fresh crumb mixture served with golden potato spears and a liquid tomato salsa and a sprinkling of microgreens.’”

Lydia gave her a blank stare.

“Chicken nuggets with fries, ketchup, and a sprig of parsley on top,” I said, having heard this particular rant of Nell’s previously. Several times.

“Oh, right.” Lydia nodded. “Pretentious assholes are the worst.”

“Exactly!” Nell raised her hands. “So wrong.”

“Practically speaking, though,” said Lydia, “we could all get jobs elsewhere and it is a lot of money. Vaughan and I could pay off the house. That would be a huge weight off our shoulders. Go on a trip, maybe.”

Nell bit her lip. “Yeah. It’s a lot of children’s school fees and books and everything. Eric, you could buy an even bigger and better muscle car penile-enhancement vehicle. A real chick magnet.”

“Don’t talk about my genitals. That makes me uncomfortable.”

This made her laugh.

“So, mostly no?” asked Lydia, gaze moving back and forth between Nell and me.

I raised my brows and Nell winced. “Maybe?”

“So, partly yes?”

Again, we both hemmed and hawed.

“Okay.” Lydia rapped her knuckled against the desk. “Decision made. I’ll tell them we’re considering the offer, but won’t be rushing into anything.”

Nell nodded. “Agreed. Eric?”

“I can live with that.”

“If they don’t like it, too bad.” Lydia grinned.





CHAPTER NINE

“Thing is, I honestly don’t know what I’d do with myself.” It was around lunchtime, the next day. I’d spent the last twelve hours running the question over in my mind.

Jean kept on packing the dishwasher. “With all your experience, you’d be able to get another job without a problem.”

“Yeah. Probably.” I lay on my back on the living room rug, a cushion beneath my head and Ada lying on my chest. The perfect way to chill when I had stuff on my mind. Seemed I’d traded women and whiskey for spending quality time with a baby and her awesome mom. Even more surprisingly given my history, it was more than fine with me. “I think she’s trying to gum a hole in my shirt.”

“Wait ’til her teeth come in. Then she’ll do your wardrobe some damage.”

“Little girl, that’s a Black Sabbath tour shirt you’re attempting to eat,” I said. Then I frowned. “Hmm. Actually, that’s probably kind of appropriate, in a heavy metal kind of way. Carry on.”

“Put her on her blanket under the baby gym if you want.”

“Nuh, we’re good.” I patted Ada on the back, ignoring the dribbled-on wet patch of shirt sticking to my chest. Gross, but whatever. If you liked the baby, you could apparently put up with the weird and disgusting.

“You’re not ready to try something else?” asked Jean. “Move on to a new challenge?”

I sighed. “There are times it gets boring behind the bar, sure. But everyone that works there, our regular customers, they’re like family. Well, Joe is family. But Boyd and Taka and everyone too.”

“So don’t sell.”

“But it’s a lot of money.”