Folk Around and Find Out (Good Folk: Modern Folktales #2)(42)
I was part of the Chamber of Commerce. Members the city council frequented my place of business. My club didn’t contribute to crime, didn’t decrease property values, and provided gainful employment for a staff of nine citizens in our small town. That didn’t count the independent contractors (i.e., dancers). My club served as a venue for charity auctions and community events. They loved the novelty of visiting a hedonistic hub for a single night and then going to church the next day.
“You know what people would say, how they’d react.” Patty’s tone adopted an academic quality, coolly logical. “This town is small and Charlotte’s kids would be shunned. Not by everyone, but those sweet children would suffer if you publicly dated their mother. Her mom church group would question her morals, she’d be stared at and whispered about for cavorting with a strip club owner. Parents wouldn’t want their children playing with her children. Her job at the charter school might be an issue, too.”
There was no denying what Patty said was likely true, and she’d know. Going on three dates with me had cost her some acquaintances, gotten her kicked off a charity committee, and made her the subject of extreme gossip. She hadn’t seemed to care, but she was a single woman and her own boss.
The thought of Joshua or Sonya being shunned? Charlotte losing her teaching job? I found I couldn’t swallow.
“And don’t forget about the Buckleys. I don’t know how much you know about her divorce, about what she gave up and how hard she fought, but her ex’s family would definitely start sniffing around again and try to take custody.”
Like hell.
An unexpected spike of anxiety hit me square in the stomach, immediately followed by a fierce, hot wave of protectiveness, strong enough to catch me off guard and make my tongue feel too thick to form words. I had to force my hand to loosen its grip on the beer bottle.
“Sorry, Hank.” Smiling, but now with a generous slathering of sympathy, Patty scooched toward the end of the booth’s bench seat. “I like you, and I really like Charlotte, and I know for a fact that if she were attracted to you, if she reciprocated your feelings, it wouldn’t occur to her to care what other people thought. Like I said, she can be brainless that way.”
“But I would know, and her kids would pay the price,” I muttered, more miserable than I had a right to be.
My choices had always been my own, impacting only me, and I’d preferred it that way. It had never occurred to me I might one day want something—or someone—and my decisions would or could negatively affect them, making their life difficult.
Patty sighed and said, “Maybe . . .”
I searched her unfocused, introspective features, my chest squeezing. “What? What is it?”
If she had a solution, I was all ears.
“Never mind.” She grimaced, her gaze apologetic. “It was a ridiculous idea.”
“Tell me.”
Bracingly, she said, “I know you’ve never touched your trust fund or your parents’ investments. They’ve got to be enormous by now.”
“I do dip into my parents’ investments from time to time, usually when I want to give money away to people they hated.”
She made a face. “You know what I mean. You could easily live on it or use it to buy a new business.”
Rubbing my chin, I considered her statement. Clearly, she had no idea about my other income sources, and that was fine. But I wanted to be certain I understood her point. “You mean run an additional business that makes me look less offensive to the Bible-thumping folks?”
“No.” Her expression turned bleak. “What I mean is, if you really wanted to pursue Charlotte, if you were serious about it, you could sell the club and do something completely different. Not run two businesses. You can’t keep The Pony if you want to pursue Charlotte.”
I stared at her, absorbing this bit of wisdom. Given how hypocritical and judgmental “decent” folks in this town were, I didn’t doubt she was right.
“See? Not a good idea.” She waved her hand between us like she was shooing the suggestion away. “Never mind.”
It wasn’t as ridiculous as she thought. I could reach out to that agent fella in Louisiana and—
Wait. No.
Why was I entertaining this idea? If I sold the club, Charlotte would be at the mercy of some unknown person. I couldn’t do that. Charlotte worked for me. I was her boss. She needed this job. And here I was, contemplating the sale of my business, exposing Charlotte and my entire staff to some hypothetical new owner, hinging on the possibility she’d one day want to give things a try with me? Had I lost my mind?
“I guess, I don’t know, pray she quits? That’s the best you can hope for. Pray she quits and you won’t have to see her all the time.” Patty stuffed the towel she’d used to wipe off the table into her apron. “Otherwise, you’ll need to figure out how to remain professional with someone you’re in serious danger of falling for. And it’s only going to get worse. Charlotte is amazing, and beautiful, and impressive in every way that actually matters.”
“I’m starting to figure that out, unfortunately.” I rubbed my bottom lip again, working to ignore the discontent in my chest. Over the course of this conversation, it had morphed from a simmer to a boil.
“Take it from me.” Patty stood, stepped over to my side, and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Unrequited love in close proximity is like breaking your own heart. Every day.” She gave me a squeeze. “I don’t recommend it.”