“Doing some administration?” I interrupted.
Bones looked up and dropped his serious face. “Hey, Ink have a seat. I’m just trying to get through our gun registration paperwork,” he said hastily, shuffling the documents.
“I came up here because we have talked in the past about me being a bar manager. I wanted to let you know. I’m up to the task. I would like to take the spot,” I declared.
Bones gave me a grin. “Then it’s all yours, I’ll get Numbers to make a contract. It’s a little more money and you can run the show. If you’re up for it, you can assist with the Red Stone staff hires and overseeing that bar too.”
“That would be something. Thanks, Bones,” I said in relief.
“You’re doing a great job. Keep it up.”
Decisions were being made in a lot of areas in my life and it sure felt good to move on from the coma and the fire into a better life. Sometimes bad things don’t turn out so bad after all.