She seems convinced, a look of concern pulling together her eyebrows. “Oh, no. You’re okay now?”
“I am. I feel so much better.”
“Well, that’s good. There was this horrible stomach flu going around right before you arrived. Maybe that’s what you caught.”
I nod, letting my hand slide down to my side. “Maybe.” My eyes flick to the shoebox. “Have you looked through all of the pictures in there?”
She looks down into her lap. “No, but I’m only allowing myself to pick a few a day. Seems silly, I guess. But I want to experience every picture as if I’m living it with you. It might take me a while to go through all of these. I framed one when you were a baby and put it up at the bar.” Her deep brown eyes find mine. “I hope that’s okay. It’s not out in the open or anything. It’s back in Danny’s office.”
“That’s okay with me. I actually had a question about the bar.”
Stepping further into the small room, I run my finger over a picture frame hanging on the wall. Hattie is much younger, smiling at the camera, dressed in her wedding gown. Danny is smiling down at her, his tie undone.
Reed’s tie undone.
Oh no. Don’t think about ties being undone. Stick with your question.
Clearing my throat, I look over at Hattie, and my movement draws her attention off the photos again. I put my hand on my hip. “Is there any chance the bar could use a waitress who’s willing to work long hours? I really need to get a job.”
When I was batting around ideas for employment, one of the first options I thought of was working at McGill’s. The food is great, I love the atmosphere, and it would allow me to spend more time with my family. There is one minor problem.
“I’ve never waitressed before, but I’m a fast learner,” I add, hoping I didn’t just eliminate my chances. But I don’t want her thinking I’m going to walk in there and know how to work a register.
She thinks it over for a few seconds, laughing softly when I fold my hands in front of me and whisper the word “please,” over and over.
Leaning back in her chair, she sets the shoebox on the desk and stands. Her hands circle my wrists. She smiles. Then I smile, really big, which causes her to pull me into a hug.
“I think we can work something out,” she says, leaning back after our short embrace. “Week nights would probably be better for you to waitress. The weekend is really more of a bar style setting, and I think you’ll get a lot more tips when it isn’t that type of a crowd. People only come in to drink on the weekends. They come in to eat during the week.”
“They should come in to eat all the time. The food is great.” Major bonus about working at McGill’s. Free bar food. I beam at my aunt. “I’m so excited! When can I start?”
She releases my arms and moves back to her desk chair, smiling at my excitement. “How about tomorrow? It’ll give me time to smooth this over with your Uncle Danny.”
My heart sinks as I stare at her. “He won’t want me working there?” I ask, stepping closer.
Hattie quickly shakes her head, dismissing my concern. “No, it’s not that he wouldn’t want you working there, darlin.’ Danny just knows what kind of men come around the bar sometimes. He’s protective of you is all. If he sees some sleazeball getting too close to his favorite niece, he’ll take them out back and beat them with something. He’ll just worry about you. I know him.”
I love how quickly I’ve fallen into this family. How naturally it happened, as if I was always here.
I jingle my keys. “I’m going over to my friend’s house for lunch. Let me know what he says, okay?”
“Oh, I’m sure he’ll let you know what he says. Especially if the answer is yes. Get ready for a lecture, darlin.’”
I wave to Hattie, hearing her sweet laugh fade out behind me as I head out the front door.
“HI, COME IN. TESSA IS on her way.” Mia steps back and ushers me inside her home with a waving hand. “Did you find the house okay?” she asks, closing the door behind me.
“I did. You don’t live that far from me.”
“Really? Where do you live?”
“Laurel Woods,” I answer, following her down the hallway and toward the delicious smells coming from what I assume to be the kitchen.
We pass the living room, which has toys and baby items scattered about. There’s a small pack-n-play in the corner next to the window, and a detailed Lego castle that’s proudly displayed on the coffee table. If someone were to be sitting on the couch, that castle would completely obstruct their view of the TV.
I really, really love that it’s there.
The hallway breaks into the kitchen, and I watch as Mia rounds the table and gestures for me to have a seat.
“What would you like to drink? I have tea, soda, water.” She opens the fridge, looking over her shoulder in my direction with raised eyebrows.
I pull out one of the kitchen chairs and take a seat, setting my keys in front of me. “Tea would be great. Thank you.”
Mia pours us both a glass and carries them over to the table. She hands me mine. “I’m so glad you could make it. I was worried you would be tied up already when we texted you.”
My eyes widen. Oh, no. No.No.No.No. Don’t think about him. Don’t think about . . .
“You okay, sweetheart?”
I look up at my hands. Bound, tied to a support beam that’s been left exposed in the ceiling. My fingers wrap around the soft fibers of the rope. It doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t even feel foreign, which it should. I’ve never been tied to something before. It feels strangely . . . comforting. Like this rope is holding me together, keeping me safe. Or maybe that’s Reed. Maybe he’s the reason for my harmony.