The bar was probably the place to be at some point before I was born. There are traces of its past elegance in the trim, the molding, the layout of the space. It’s almost regal, like some of the old restaurants my parents frequent. This is just less cared for. It smells salty, kind of like body odor but not quite as offensive, and could use a good “air out,” as my mother would say.
“Who the hell is that?” A man at the end of the bar slams his drink down, looking at me with a wobbling swagger.
“That’s a broken jaw if you don’t check yourself,” Nate says, coming around the corner. With a thump on the counter in front of the man, making him jump, he calms me with his bright, wide smile. “What are you doing here, Priss?”
His nickname for me, short for Prissy, bothered me when he first began using it. Now it’s almost a term of endearment. If he stopped calling me Priss, I might be offended.
“Oh, just in the neighborhood,” I say, sighing for effect. “Is Dom around?”
Nate’s lips press together as he tries to hide a grin. “Is he supposed to be?”
“He said he was coming by,” I shrug, chewing my bottom lip.
“I’m guessing he doesn’t know you’re here,” he smirks.
“You would guess right, sir.”
Nate runs his hands through his dark hair that’s the exact color of Dom’s, but cut closer to the scalp. He shakes his head, clearly amused that I’m standing in his bar. He heaves a breath and blows it out slowly.
“Are you going to help me or not?” I laugh.
“Fine,” he sighs. “Dom’s in the back.”
“What’s he doing?”
“He’s just looking over some papers for me.”
“Papers, huh?” I prod. “You don’t know how to read or what?”
His eyes light up as I poke at him, the easiness of our semi-friendship making my nerves settle just a bit. Nate and I have gotten along since the day he showed up with his little boy unexpectedly at Dominic’s. He’s a handful in a lot of ways—loud and a little sharp sometimes—but he’s kind. And when he’s with Ryder, he’s downright amazing.
“I don’t know how to read this shit,” he blushes. “I got some papers from the bank on a loan and he’s making sure nothing looks off to him. They speak a complete other language in the banking world.”
My heart drops as I realize what he’s saying. “Dom told me you were going through a rough patch. Can I help?”
“You sure can. Let him finish looking at those papers before you wind him up,” he winks.
“I’m serious,” I say, shoving him playfully. “If there’s anything I can do, tell me. I’d love to help.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
He says that, but the look on his face says differently.
“I mean it, Nate. If you and Ryder need anything, please don’t hesitate to reach out.”
“That’s sweet of you, Priss,” he says softly, “but we’re gonna be fine. This is life. We’re tough.”
“Of that I have little doubt,” I smile. “Dom said you guys are moving in with him.”
“Just for a while. I’m getting a loan for ten grand, but it’ll take a couple of months to go through. Until then, I’m just eliminating a few bills that I can.”
“The ten grand will bail you out?” I ask.
“And then some. I know how to manage money. I just got hit with a few big unexpected expenses,” he tells me. “Plus, I want to make this place nice again. Build something Ryder can be proud of his old man for one day. Something my brother w
on’t go nuts about when he sees you’re here,” he says, making a face as he takes a step, then two, backwards towards his customers. “Speaking of, head on back to the office. You know where it is, right?”
“Yup.”