Perhaps unsurprisingly, I didn’t hear anything from Jason for the rest of the night nor the following morning. My lovely mother had a way of driving a wedge between us, and clearly, that hadn’t changed in the two years that I’d been gone.

Still, I hadn’t been able to say anything to her or confront her about it, mostly because I wasn’t sure she’d done anything on purpose to try to stir the pot—but boy, had she stirred the pot anyway.

So, when I stepped through the doors of Second Chances later that afternoon to try to help Jason set the place up and to patch things up between us after my mom’s less-than-stellar critique of the bar’s design, I also wasn’t surprised to find him a little withdrawn.

“Hey,” I said, as I approached where he stood wiping down the bar absently. I felt guilty for not coming in the night before to help him and Mike, not that there was much I could’ve done to help them anyway, but there was no way I could tell Jason that without it seeming contrived.

“Hey,” he answered, without looking up, and before I really knew what I was doing I went to him and put my hand on his, stopping his circular motion almost instantly. Finally, he looked up at me and raised one eyebrow.

“Oh, so I take it Mom didn’t totally scare you off?” he asked.

“Jason, come on, don’t be like that. You know how my mom is, she’s never really approved of us being together,” I said.

“Yeah, and you didn’t really do much to change her mind, did you?” he asked and shrugged my hand off to go back to wiping down the bar. It was spotless, and it shone in the overhead light, so clearly he was just doing it to have an excuse to not talk to me.

“What was I supposed to say? Like I said, you know how she is, she just says whatever comes to her mind. I don’t think she meant any harm,” I said. It felt ridiculous to me to be apologizing for the things my mom said—because I obviously didn’t share her views—but what choice did I have?

“Really? Because it didn’t seem that way to me. She was determined to talk shit about everything she saw, including me, though she did it in an indirect kind of way, and you didn’t say anything to stop her,” he said.

“Jason, please. I don’t want to fight over this. Especially not after the last few nights we’ve had together. This is petty,” I said and he smirked at me.

“Petty? Is that what you think of me now?” he asked. I could understand him being upset about what Mom said, but there I was trying to apologize and he seemed like he didn’t want to hear it at all. If he didn’t want to accept my apology, then what did he want from me?

“I don’t want to fight. Not now, not ever,” I said. He let out a sigh and though he didn’t seem like he was really willing to give up the fight, his face softened.

“I’m sorry, there was just something about that whole situation that really got under my skin,” he said.

“I understand. I don’t blame you, I probably would’ve acted the same way if I were you,” I said. I was painfully aware of just how sensitive he was about my mom’s opinion of him, and he had every right to be after the way she’d treated him over the years, but there was nothing I could do to change that.

“Something she said really bothered me,” he said after a few moments had passed.

“Oh? What was that?” I asked though I didn’t really want to know. For the most part, I tuned my mom’s critical voice out—I’d gotten so used to it over the years that it stopped having any real impact on me—so Lord only knew what she’d said that had set Jason off.

“She mentioned you getting back out on tour. Is that something that’s in the cards?” he asked, refusing to meet my gaze. I wanted to sigh and tear my hair out in frustration because touring was the last thing in the world on my mind, but I held it in. I couldn’t blame him for being afraid of losing me, not with our history.

“No, it’s definitely not in the cards, at least not anytime soon,” I said. “Besides what’s going on with you and the bar, I’m here for her, remember? She’s sick, there’s no way I could go out on tour right now, even if I wanted to, which I don’t. Even if I did, I would’ve talked to you about it first,” I said.

“Then that’s all I needed to hear. I’m sorry,” he said and I smiled at him.

“How was business last night?” I asked, desperate to change the subject.

“It was steady, but not quite as busy as it’s been the last few nights,” he said. That raised a red flag for me. It was normal for business to slow down after a grand opening like the one we’d thrown, but a drop like that wasn’t normal.

“Do I need to throw another concert?” I asked, hoping to lighten the mood a little bit.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“If it’ll help sales, I’ll do it,” I said and opened my mouth to tell him about all the ideas I had but I never got the chance because a rousing knock on the bar’s door startled both of us.

“What the hell?” Jason asked, throwing down his towel to stare across the bar. I turned around too, but couldn’t see anything thanks to the fogged up glass on the front doors.

“I’ll get it,” I said, and without giving him the chance to question me, I jogged to the front door and flung it open to find a short young man in an oversized suit waiting for me on the other side, his smartphone and pad of paper ready and waiting for me.

“Hi, can I help you?” I asked, looking him up and down. He pushed his thick-framed glasses up his nose and cleared his throat as if he were afraid to talk to me. Did he recognize who I was? Scratch that, of course, he did.

“Yes, hi. My name is Evan Sanders, I’m a reporter with the Beauclaire Bugle. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?” he asked and shoved his phone in my face.

“If you want to book an interview with me, you’ll need to contact my publicist,” I said as politely as I could manage. It wasn’t every day, at least not in Beauclaire, that I had a camera or microphone shoved in my face, and I didn’t take lightly to it.

“Well, sir, that’s the problem. I tried to contact them but they’re not taking my calls, probably because I’m not part of a major corporation. Are you sure you don’t have time for just a few quick questions about you and the bar? I promise I won’t ask anything controversial,” Evan said, offering me the warmest smile he could muster.

I hesitated for a moment and looked over my shoulder to see Jason standing behind the bar. He shrugged at me and raised one eyebrow like he was curious what was going on and whether or not he needed to come and rescue me.

“I don’t think it can cause any harm, come on in,” I said and stepped aside to allow Evan into the bar.

“Thank you so much, I promise I won’t take much of your time, I’m just on assignment for the newspaper to write up a little article about your concert that you gave here a few nights ago,” Evan said. He seemed meek and nervous, like this might’ve been his first ever assignment, and in some ways, I felt sorry for him. What kind of exciting life must he be living to work for a small town paper like the Beauclaire Bugle? Maybe this would be his big break.

“Of course. We weren’t doing much other than getting ready for tonight’s shift anyway,” I said and steered him toward the bar. Jason looked at me apprehensively, like he thought this was a bad idea without ever having any of the details, and I wasn’t sure whether or not he was right just yet.

“Have a seat. Can I get you a soda or something?” I asked. Evan smiled at me and climbed up on one of the barstools, which was almost as tall as he was.

“I’d like a Diet Coke if you have it,” Evan said.

“Coming right up,” I said and nodded to Jason to make the drink. Jason grabbed a glass and filled it with ice and the soda without ever taking his eyes off Evan, which I guess I couldn’t blame him for, but I didn’t really understand why he was instantly so skeptical of someone who was just doing his job.

“Thank you,” Evan said to Jason as Jason slid the glass of soda over to him. Jason only nodded.

“Evan, this is Jason Smith, my business partner, and one of the owners of the bar,” I said as I sat down next to Evan, carefully gauging Jason’s face. “Jason, this is Evan Sanders, a reporter for the Beauclaire Bugle.”

“Nice to meet you,” Evan said, though he kept his eyes focused on me instead of on Jason.

“So, tell us a little bit more about the story you’re working on,” I said, trying to keep the conversation as lighthearted as possible. There was enough tension between Jason and me already, I wasn’t looking to create more.

“Oh, like I said, it’s nothing special. The paper wants me to write up a little summary of the concert and the opening, or reopening I should say, of the bar,” he said.

“Okay, sounds good enough. What do you need to know?” I asked.

“Well, first things first, let’s get something straight. You said that you and Jason are business partners, but based on what I saw during the concert the other night, and on what you said during your performance, it seems to me like there’s a little bit more than that going on. Is that correct?” Evan asked and I nearly fell out of my chair.

Jason whirled on me, his eyes raking me over, and I knew that things were not going to go well from here. I reached across the bar and rested a hand on Jason’s forearm to keep him in place and to keep him from throwing the reporter out.

“No, that’s not correct. In fact, there’s nothing going on between Jason and myself other than a business relationship. I decided to dedicate a song to him because I was able to give him and this bar a second chance to see success, hence the new name,” I said and though Evan nodded, he didn’t look like he bought a single second of it.

“I think that’s enough, we’ve gotta get back to work,” Jason said and tore his arm out from underneath my hand before he came around the bar. “If you’d like to have any more questions answered, you’re more than welcome to stop by after the bar’s opened,” Jason continued as he towered over Evan, though I knew he had absolutely no intention of ever letting this reporter set foot in his bar again.

“Surely just a few more questions wouldn’t take too much of your time,” Evan started but Jason crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at him.

“I’m not gonna say it again. I think you’ve gotten everything you need,” Jason said and Evan nodded before hurriedly sucking down the rest of his Coke.

“Thank you both for your time, I really appreciate it,” Evan said and after he’d tapped his phone screen to stop it recording, he climbed down off the chair and practically ran out of the room. When the door closed behind him and Jason was sure that we were alone again, without a microphone somewhere in the room, he turned on me.

“What the hell was that?” he asked.

“I don’t know, I’m sorry, he ambushed me at the door and I didn’t really know how to turn him away,” I said and Jason shook his head.

“It’s easy, Dan, you just say no,” he said.

“Only it really isn’t that easy. If I did that, how would it make me look? I mean, as soon as I opened the door he had a microphone in my face already recording. If I’d told him to buzz off, it would’ve been all over the blogosphere before the night was over,” I said, but I knew that no matter what I said Jason wouldn’t understand. He’d never lived life in the spotlight like I’d been doing for the last two years.

“What the hell is all the commotion out here? I’m trying to work and I can’t even hear myself think,” George said as he emerged from his office. Great, as if there weren’t already enough cooks in the kitchen, now I had to worry about George too. My heart hammered in my chest, more out of fear than anything else. I didn’t know this Evan person from Adam, but I hoped he wouldn’t publish or talk about anything that would make me look too bad. After all, I’d tried to be a perfect gentleman with him while he was in the bar, though I couldn’t say the same for Jason.

“Oh, nothing, Dan here thought it would be a great idea to invite a reporter into the bar and tell him I don’t know what,” Jason said, throwing his hands up in the air and turning around to stand behind the bar.

“I told y’all that getting involved with each other was a bad idea, but did you listen? Hell no,” George said. “Maybe y’all should’ve thought about that before you decided to get hot and heavy.”

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that,” Jason said.

“Good, then I’m gonna pretend that you two aren’t still seeing each other and none of this is really happening. Can we call that even?” George asked.

Jason looked from George to me and back again before he nodded.

“All right then, great talk,” George said and closed himself in again.

“How does he know?” I asked and Jason scoffed.

“Come on, Dan, did you really think he wouldn’t figure it out eventually?” he asked. “I mean, like the reporter said, you practically told the entire world when you decided to dedicate a song to me.”

“I didn’t think it would blow up like this. Jesus, Jason, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” I said as I slumped down into one of the bar stools and ran my fingers over the cool slab where Jason and I had made love just nights earlier.

What was I thinking? All my senses seemed to have run out of my ears and if I wasn’t careful, it could cost me. But then again, maybe it already had.

“It’s fine. It was an impulse, I get it,” Jason said. “Besides, that guy was just some low man on the totem pole at the Bugle. I highly doubt anything will come of it.”

“Are we OK?” I asked, searching his face. His eyes darted left and right.

“I think so,” he said.

“You think so?”

“I dunno, Dan, I’m more than a little mixed up right now. Between this and the stuff your mom was saying, it’s starting to look weird,” he said. I stood up and walked around the bar to take one of his hands in mine and though he wouldn’t meet my gaze, he didn’t pull away from me either.

“I understand and I’m sorry I made you feel that way, but I’m not going anywhere,” I said. “I made that mistake once already, I won’t do it again.”

“I hope not,” he said and though I wanted to sigh, instead I kissed him.

“I’m not,” I said again when we broke and he smirked, the familiar twinkle returning to his eyes. “Now let’s get busy and get this place presentable.”

Still, he wasn’t wrong. Things were getting a little too close to home now that we had reporters beating on the door. I wanted to believe this would all blow over soon enough and that Jason and I could go back to our quiet little small town life together, but my fifteen minutes of fame was far from over.

I just hoped it didn’t ruin things.