“Jordan, not now,” Tyler, the second oldest behind me, said.
“Don’t you ‘not now’ me,” Jordan said back, his voice rising and his arms flailing. “You know as well as I do that it’s the truth.”
“What’s the truth?” I asked. “Jordan, what are you talking about?”
His pacing stopped and he turned to face me head-on. His voice dropped to a gravel, and suddenly I saw the soldier that was hiding in the skin of my little brother. There before me was a man prepared to do anything and everything to defend his family.
“That son of a bitch Danny Jefferies,” he spat.
“Jesus, Jordan, that old man can barely bend over to tie his shoes anymore, and you think he burned down our bar?” Matt, the youngest, asked.
“He’s been scheming this for a long time,” Jordan said, his eyes wild and his feet starting to move again. He paced like a caged tiger as he spoke, and I instinctively moved between him and the road. Danny Jefferies was down the street from our bar, in his own run-down dive that he had owned for years. If Jordan was going to go flying down there in attack mode, he would have to get through me first.
“Do you have any proof?” I asked pointedly.
“Proof? He’s the only one with a damn motive, Tom,” Jordan shouted. “I don’t need proof. I know it’s him.”
“He’s been awfully jealous since Ava came to work here and we started doing the theme nights,” Mason said resignedly.
“Yeah, but jealous enough to risk prison?” Tyler asked.
“Yes, clearly,” Jordan said, gesturing to the smoking remains of the bar. “He hates that we were succeeding and he wasn’t, and he came up here in the middle of the night and started a fucking fire to clear out his competition.”
“Jordan, stop,” I said, and Jordan actually did. He paused mid-step and looked at me. He was still a soldier in so many ways. Maybe I could make that work to calm him down. The tone in my voice was commanding, and the gambit had worked. He stared at me like he was waiting for instruction.
I sighed and looked back at the remains of the building and then back to Jordan.
“We can’t just go accusing someone of arson without proof. I know you’re upset, we all are, but making up wild rumors helps no one. If Danny Jefferies is behind this, it will come out. But for right now, we all need you to calm the hell down.”
Jordan nodded, his body relaxing, and I nodded back, then turned to look at the bar again. This was going to be a long, hard day.4AmandaI had just lathered up the pool of liquid soap in my palm and was rinsing my hands when my phone rang. Drying them hastily, I reached in my pocket and pulled it out. I assumed it was going to be Tom, and I realized my stomach had a nervous knot in it. I was worried about him and what he was going through.
Instead, I saw my best friend’s name on the screen. It was unusual for her to call me in the middle of the day, but not completely unheard of. Emily was a touch of a free spirit. Sometimes she was levelheaded and logical enough to talk through any problem or situation with her. And other times she completely flitted off into nothingness and needed to be reeled back into reality.
“What are you doing right this second?” she asked, sounding slightly breathless.
“I’m washing my hands in the bathroom at work,” I said.
The call immediately dropped. I shook my head and put my phone back and my pocket.
I dried my hands carefully, then walked out of the bathroom. I was a few seconds down the hall back toward my desk when my phone rang again. I fished it out of my pocket and saw Emily’s name on the screen.
“Hello?” I asked.
“What are you doing right at this exact second?” she asked.
I laughed. “Did you just give yourself a conversation do-over?”
“I wasn’t aware I was calling you while you were in the bathroom,” Emily said.
“I was washing my hands,” I said.
“Doesn’t matter. Not the appropriate venue. But speaking of venues, guess where we’re going tonight?”
“I have no idea,” I said. “I was planning on going to the corner of my couch and finishing the paperback I’ve been reading before eating a plate of spaghetti and going to bed.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone for long enough that I thought she might have hung up on me again.
“No,” she finally said. “And if you ever tell me that type of plan again, I’m hosting an intervention. You are far too young to be acting like an old lady.”
“I’m not acting like an old lady,” I said.
“You definitely are, but that’s not why I’m calling. I got us reservations at Frosting,” she said.