CHAPTER THREE

Nacole

My first week at Walker’s is over, and man, am I beat. That place is absolutely insane on weekends, and yet somehow I’ve never been happier. I made a decent amount of money in tips, and Caroline, the girl who’s been training me, is an absolute sweetheart. Super bubbly and warm, she made me feel welcome right away.

Brody’s wife, Lindsey, is incredible. When I knocked the beer off the table tonight, she didn’t even blink an eye or get angry with me. After rushing over to help me clean it up, she gave me a few pointers and I thanked her profusely. But even in the rush of the evening, I didn’t miss the blue-eyed man at her table all night.

I swear, I felt his eyes on me before I even noticed him. And when I locked gazes with those eyes, I could sense his intensity even across the bar. And that wink? Dead. I was completely dead.

Not that it matters. I’m not here to make friends or play house with anyone, no matter how attractive they are. I’m here to start a new life.

To stay safe, no matter how long I need to be here.

And then stupid me had to go running into him on my way out, a late-night dinner from the kitchen in my hands. I mumbled an apology and rushed past him, noting how good his cologne smelled and how hard the chest I’d bumped into was. Shit.

Forcing all thoughts of the man from my head, I close the flimsy door to my apartment behind me, turning the only lock and hitting the light switch with my elbow. Dropping the plastic bag on the counter, I kick my sneakers off and stride into the bedroom, quickly changing into a pair of pajamas. Heading back to my dinner, I grab the Styrofoam container and carry it over to my couch, the only piece of furniture in my living room besides a coffee table.

I’d sort of hoped when I found the ad for a furnished apartment that it would have a bit more, and I make a mental note to buy a cheap television tomorrow. I didn’t want to buy things I wouldn’t need right away, not knowing how long it would take me to find a job, but now that I’m feeling settled, I could use some entertainment on my days off.

Mitchell’s words from last week haunt my thoughts, and with a mouthful of chicken, I reach for my cell phone, pulling up a local realtor’s site. My internet is shitty at best, so it takes me forever to find a number. When I do, I save it in my phone to call tomorrow. Can’t hurt to see if there’s a nice place in town I can look in to.

What’s the worst that can happen?

§

“Nacole? Hello, I’m Stanley Harmon. So nice to meet you.”

The middle-aged man comes around the desk in front of me, holding his hand out to shake. Stanley is the realtor I spoke to this morning, and he already has a few showings set up.

“Hi,” I reply, genuinely excited. I did a lot of thinking last night and Mitchell is right. Leaving Graham was the first step; now I need to not continue living in shit. Mom may not have been ready to leave me, but she made sure I was okay.

No more hiding from myself.

“So I found a couple places to go check out, all well within your budget. One of them is a serious fixer-upper, much larger than the other, but it’s on a smaller lot on the outside of town. The other is in much better shape with a small yard, but it’s only around six hundred square feet.”

Nodding, I follow him over to the front door. He holds it open for me and motions to his car, offering to drive us to both properties. I accept his offer and climb into the vehicle, my hands sweaty and nerves on edge. Getting into the car with a stranger is something I’m terrified of, but I’m trying my best to keep it together.

Arriving at the first property a few minutes later, I’m immediately in love. Clearly this is the smaller of the two, but I don’t care. It’s on a more secluded lot, and it’s perfect. Getting out of the car, I walk around the back of the house and find a small deck with a few potted plants, the lawn well kept.

Unlocking the door, Stanley ushers me inside where I’m met with a small eat-in kitchen. It reminds me so much of my own mother’s house that it takes everything I have to keep it together. Pushing all the memories away, I take a walk through the rest of the house, finding a large master suite at one end, the living room on the other. It’s all so homey and well taken care of that I’m sold.

Heading back to the kitchen where Stanley’s waiting, I paste on a large smile.

“I’ll take it,” I announce, and he beams at me.

“Fantastic. Now you had mentioned paying cash? This place is eighty thousand, but if you wanted to try and put in a lower offer, I think you would find the seller willing to negotiate.”

“No, eighty is fine. I was left money when my mother passed, and I’m planning on using it to find a home. And I think I found it.” Running my hand over the blue granite countertops, I smile, imagining this place as my own.

“Well, welcome home, Nacole. Let’s head over to the office and draw up the paperwork. If all goes well, then this time next week you’ll be able to move in.”

“Sounds good.” Taking one last look around the house, I follow him back to his car.

As we drive back to the office, I fight tears, picturing my mom. I miss her so much. I feel so guilty that I didn’t get away from my husband sooner. I could’ve left and taken her with me.

So much time lost. And I’ll never get it back.

§

“Over on Birch Road? Yeah, I know that area. You did well, girl.” Lindsey stands on the other side of the bar, filling my table’s drink order. I was telling her about my new place when I first got in, but we didn’t have much time to chat.

“Yeah. Now I just need to find time to move the little furniture I have. I found a secondhand shop downtown and ordered a few much-needed things, but they’re all gonna have to be picked up and moved too. Shit, I didn’t think this through.”

Lindsey raises an eyebrow at me, her eyes lighting up. “Brody can help! His truck should be able to hold everything, and I’m sure he can get Garret to help him too.”

“Garret?” I ask, taking the tray from her, three beers all ready to go.

“Yeah, his older brother. Let me shoot him a quick text, and then we can set up a time that works for everyone.”

“Thank you, Lindsey. I appreciate that.”

“Anytime.”

After carrying the drinks over to my table, I can’t help smiling at Lindsey’s kindness as I bring the tray back to the bar.

§

Later that night, I’m finishing up at a rowdy table when my cell phone vibrates in my back pocket. Rushing out back toward the bathrooms, I see it’s Mitchell calling, so I answer.

“Hello?”

“Hey, glad I caught you.”

“Everything okay?” I ask, trying to keep my voice down.

“Yeah, I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

The tone of his voice spooks me, and I turn my back to the bar, stepping farther down the hallway. “What? What is it?”

“I saw Graham.”

My heart races. I feel close to vomiting. “What?”

“I was out to dinner with a colleague, and I saw him enter the restaurant with another woman. Petite and blonde.”

I blow out a breath. “Yeah, that’s one of the usual girls.”

“I think it’s time. Clearly he’s not waiting for you to come home.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Can I be honest with you, Sadie?”

Tapping my foot to a beat, I pace in a small circle. I wish he’d stop using my first name, the sound of it stirring up unwanted, painful memories. I sigh, knowing exactly what’s coming. “Of course.”

“He’s an arrogant, abusive son of a bitch. He doesn’t give one damn about where you are, what you’re doing. I see too many of these kinds of cases, and I don’t want to see you hurt. Again. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“You’re a brave woman, and your mother would be so proud of you. But now you need to put this all behind you. You’ll never be able to move on until you do. Just don’t lose hope.”

“How can I lose what I’ve never had? Thank you, but I need to get back. I’m moving in just a couple days, so I’ll call you once I’m settled.”

“Finally letting her take care of you, huh?” I can hear the sadness in his tone.

“I owe it to her,” I whisper, and with that I end the call, tucking my phone back into my pocket. With a deep breath, I head back out to the floor, pushing all thoughts of my mother and Graham aside.

With it closing in on eleven, my shift is just about over. I look toward the front door when I hear it open and see a group of guys come strolling in, heading for one of my tables. I groan, knowing I’m gonna be stuck here later than when my shift ends, but then Lindsey comes strolling over, bumping her hip into mine.

“Why don’t you take off early? I got these idiots. Some of the guys from the firehouse downtown.”

I give her a grateful smile. “Thanks. Did you ever talk to Brody?”

“I did. We’ll meet you at the furniture store Saturday so we can load everything from there and go. Does ten work for you?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Lindsey tells me to have a good night, and I head out back to grab my stuff. Shoving my apron into my purse, I swing out the door to my car, a genuine smile on my face. Climbing into the driver’s seat, I start the engine and look up to a butterfly on my windshield. It feels so out of place, but it brings me a sense of peace.

I love you too, Mom.

§

Saturday arrives with sun shining and a nice breeze coming through the open window. Pushing up to a sitting position, I stretch my arms and yawn, so glad to be leaving this dump. I hardly got any sleep last night, listening to the people above me screaming and yelling half the night, and then their music started blaring through the thin walls.

Getting out of bed, I head for the kitchen to make some coffee. It’s only seven, so I have a little time before I need to be ready to go. Because the place came furnished—or their idea of furnished, anyway—I only have a few small boxes filled with personal belongings, so it won’t take long.

Once my coffee is ready, I fill it with my favorite flavored creamer and lean my hip against the counter. Lindsey texts, letting me know she’s excited for today, and it dawns on me that while I’ve lived in this place for three months, I haven’t done anything since I got here.

I spent the first two months grieving and barely leaving my bed. Lost twenty pounds and survived on a diet of coffee and peanut butter sandwiches. Since starting at Walker’s a couple weeks ago, I’ve begun to gain some of the weight back.

I smile a bit wider.

I’m happy.

Finishing my coffee, I take a quick shower and forgo drying my hair, letting it fall down my back in wet strands as it air-dries. Dressing in a comfortable pair of jean shorts and a loose tank, I start packing what few items I have left.

An hour later, I’m sitting on the couch, looking around the house. Closing my eyes, I lean back against the couch and tilt my chin up.

I love you.

She’s gone, but I know she can hear me.

§

“Hey, girl, you ready to get started?”

I’m at the furniture store, going through the list of items with the owner, when Lindsey and Brody walk in hand in hand.

“As I’ll ever be. Thank you for helping today.”

“No problem. Garret pulled in right behind us. Everything ready to go?” Brody asks, shoving his hands into his front pockets.

I nod just as the door opens again. I look over his shoulder, my jaw dropping in shock when the guy from last week comes strolling in, those blue eyes filled with amusement. He walks right over to me and holds out his hand.

“Hey, I’m Garret Walker. Nice to meet you, darlin’.”

Well fuck.