“It’s no one’s goddamn business who I see or don’t see,” I said, dunking the comb back in the alcohol and stowing my scissors.
“That’s the thing about a small town,” Jeremiah said. “Everyone’s business is everyone’s business.”
“Yeah? Well, everyone can kiss my ass.”
“He definitely seems much happier since he got out of that terrible relationship,” Stasia said. She pretended to scratch her nose with her middle finger.
“Who signs your paychecks?” I reminded her.
“Some things are worth more than money.”
I didn’t need this abuse. I had shit to do. A life to live. And these assholes could just get on with forgetting all about me and Naomi.
“I’m goin’ to Honky Tonk,” I said.
“Have a great night,” Jeremiah called after me. I threw a middle finger in his direction.
Instead of the bar, I ducked into my office. It didn’t feel like a sanctuary. It felt like a prison. I’d spent more time locked in here this week than I had the previous month. I’d never been this caught up on paperwork. Or this disconnected from what was going on with my businesses.
“Why the hell does anyone in this town give a damn who I date or don’t date?” I muttered to myself.
I picked up the rent check for one of the apartments upstairs. The tenan
t had also included a “You fucked up” note scrawled on a sticky note.
I was starting to worry that everyone else was right. That I’d done the wrong thing. And that sat about as well with me as the idea of wearing a suit and tie every day for the rest of my life.
I liked freedom. That’s why I owned my own businesses. That lottery ticket had bought me stability and freedom. Although, I supposed running my own businesses also sometimes felt like a thousand fucking zip ties lashing me to responsibility. But it was a responsibility I chose.
I could run my businesses without worrying about other people… Well, except for the ones I employed. And served.
Fuck.
I needed to get out of my head.
I headed down the hall and let myself into Honky Tonk. It was early still for a Friday, but the music was loud, and I could smell wings cooking in the kitchen. It felt like home. Even though my eyes did a quick scan of the bar, looking for Naomi. She wasn’t there and the disappointment I felt cut like a goddamn knife.
Silver and Max were both behind the bar. Fi was shooting the shit with Wraith. All three of them looked at me.
“Evening,” I said, testing the waters.
“Boo!” they chorused. Silver and Max were giving me the thumbs-down. Fi was giving me one thumbs-down and one middle finger. The other server, Brad, a new hire brought on to even out the estrogen, refused to make eye contact with me.
“Seriously?”
The handful of patrons snickered.
“I could fire every last one of you,” I reminded them.
They crossed their arms in unison. “I’d like to see you try,” Max said.
“Yeah. I’m sure you’d bartend and serve and manage just fine all by yourself on a Saturday night,” Silver said. Her nose ring moved with the flare of her nostrils.
Fuck.
I knew when I wasn’t wanted.
Fine. I could go home and enjoy the peace and quiet of single life. Again. Maybe tonight it wouldn’t feel so fucking empty. I’d get used to it.