Besides, I’m still thinking about what he said. About the fear. And that there’s a moment when fear no longer serves you, no longer protects you. It harms you and holds you back. I might be at one of those thresholds, where my desire to keep myself and my mother safe from harm, specifically the harm of others’ opinions and thoughts, might actually do more damage in the long run. I can’t speak for my mother and how she feels, but I think it’s healthier for me to put myself out there, even if there’s a chance doing so might hurt me.
Amy comes back with the beer and whisky first, and by the time she brings the duck wings, Harrison is already done with his drinks and is ordering another round.
And he’s starting to look a little drunk. His eyes have lost that intensity, seem a little unfocused.
“Don’t worry about me,” Harrison says, his brow lined as he looks me over. “I see your worrying all over your face.”
I try to make my face look as smooth as possible. “I’m not worried,” I say brightly, lying. “Maybe you’re not used to me wearing this much makeup.”
“You’re right. I’m not.” He doesn’t sound happy about it.
“Let me guess: You think I look better without all of it?”
“I think you look beautiful either way.”
Whoa.
My eyes go round, but he doesn’t seem to notice what he’s said.
He’s drunk, I remind myself.
Though don’t drunk people speak the truth?
Beer goggles, I counter.
And then Joey comes out of the pub, striding across the patio toward us.
“Duck wings, nice,” he says, nodding at the plate. “Always a favorite.” He gives me a pointed look. “You didn’t come to see me play, did you?”
“I didn’t even notice your band was playing,” I tell him honestly. “Sounded a lot like the band before.”
I can practically see his hackles go up. That bothers him. He hates the cover band, thinks it’s beneath a musician to cover other people’s music, even though I know he plays a few covers as well.
He looks to Harrison. “Hey, you know what? We were just talking about you. I know who you are.”
Harrison glances up at him, squinting. “And?”
“You’re the bodyguard. To the prince and princess or whoever they are. On Scott Point, right beside Piper. This all makes so much sense now.”
“What do you mean?” I ask sharply.
Joey laughs and points at me and then at Harrison. “I mean, come on. I knew you guys weren’t a couple; that made no sense at all. Figures that you’re her bodyguard or something, though honestly I don’t know why anyone would bother pestering Piper here. She’s just a schoolteacher, no one important.”
There are so many infuriating things to unpack with that spiel that I can’t even say anything and just stew in my burning, indignant anger.
“Why wouldn’t we be a couple?” Harrison asks, his voice so steely and calm that any sane person would hightail it out of here.
Not dense, ignorant, righteous Joey. “Well, sir, I don’t normally compliment another man, but you’re definitely out of her league.” He shoots me a faux sad look. “No offense, Piper. You’re just, you know, and he’s just . . . well, I don’t think you’d be leaving him at the altar like you did to me.”
And there it is.
His words hit me like a slap in the face and then sink to the pit of my stomach, turning over in knots, then fire back up like I’m a fucking volcano.
I jump to my feet, the chair knocking back, and yell, “You’re the one who cheated on me during your bachelor party! I didn’t leave you at the altar. I called it off earlier because I found out that you were a cheating asshole!”
“Sure. Keep telling people that. No one in this town believes you. Except maybe this guy, if he’s dumber than he looks.” He jerks his thumb at Harrison.
And Harrison is quicker than a lightning bolt. In one fast, smooth move, he reaches out and grasps Joey’s thumb with one large hand, squeezing it, ready to snap it in two.
Joey lets out a squeal, and now everyone on the patio is looking at us.
“Is this how you treat all your customers?” Harrison snarls at him, the venom in his voice and in his eyes unmistakable. “By calling them dumb? Is that how you run your business?”
“Let go of me,” Joey pleads, sniveling and pathetic. “Let go of me. You have no idea who I am, who my family is.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck who your family is,” Harrison says. “But I will let go of you.” He releases Joey’s thumb, and Joey snatches it to his chest, cradling it. “And if you ever insult me or Piper again, or any other customer who has come in here on a Friday night to give you business, then I’ll make sure the world knows about it. See, your island is small. But my world? It’s bigger than you can even imagine. Now, if you want to save your bloody pub, I’d apologize, and mean it, and then wipe our bill clean.”