Damn him.
“Taking requests?”
It took her a heartbeat too long to snap back, “No.” The second the word left her lips, she spun away and walked across the floor toward the bar, the hem of her floral skirt flicking sharply against her thighs, her fashion ankle boots clicking against the planks.
Damn him, damn him, damn him. What was he doing here early?Talkingto her? Standing so close to her when he knew she didn’t want to have anything to do with him? As she rounded the corner of the bar, she cast a poisonous look toward the jukebox. He was leaning over the dome, scrolling through the selections. He must have noticed she still had one more song to select and was taking advantage of it.
Her eyes darted around the bar, taking note of the customers. At least she wasn’t alone with him. There were enough people to keep her busy. She was about to become the most attentive bartender they’d ever met, at least for the next forty-five minutes. Forty minutes. She was going to count down to her salvation, starting with the man who’d settled himself at the far corner of the bar, near the infamous lovers’ alcove. Luckily, she didn’t have to worry about any activity in the dark corner this afternoon. Walking over to the new arrival, she threw a cocktail napkin down and asked him what he wanted.
Lifting his head from his phone, which he had lying flat on the bar, he blinked. “Hey, Cassie. Cassie Teague!”
She found it odd when people added her last name in the time since. She loved having Elijah’s name, of course, but when people said it like that, it seemed like a purposeful reminder her husband didn’t exist anymore except as a memory. Tilting her head, she took a better look at him; middle-aged, average-looking, light brown hair in need of a haircut, beard longer than most but not too long, slight paunch beneath his flannel shirt. “Hi, David.” He was from the next county over. He used to come into the bar every week, often when she and Elijah were here.
He smiled, showing clean but crooked and vaguely yellowed teeth, most likely stained by cigarettes and coffee. “You remember me.”
“Of course.” Just because she’d been out of sight didn’t mean she’d forgotten everyone.
Her response pleased him based on his widening grin. But then he affected a sorrowful expression. “So sorry about Elijah.”
Cassidy flashed him a quick smile as though to pass it off. She and Elijah had known a lot of people. The more time she spent in town, the more she would run into the outer fringes of their contacts, who she had successfully avoided for years. She’d thought it would get more comfortable. It hadn’t.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noted Mac taking a seat a few stools away. He turned slightly to watch them, not hiding his interest in their conversation. Annoyance coursed through her. She wasn’t interested in indicating that she was aware of him, although fighting the urge to look was like fighting a magnetic pull.
David held out a hand toward her. “But hey, I heard you had a kid, right? Congrats! Boy or girl?”
The music did an odd dip in and out as she went slightly deaf at the words before answering evenly, “You heard wrong.”
He looked confused. “Oh. Coulda sworn I heard you and Elijah were expecting before he—you know.”
She knew. She ignored him. Instead, she asked, “What can I get you?”
“Oh yeah, uh, I’ll take a Pabst.”
“You got it.” She turned toward the small refrigerator where the cans were kept.
Cassidy walked back over to him and took up a bar towel, wiping off the can before popping the top and handing it over. “Want me to start a tab?”
“Oh, uh, yeah.” He reached into his back pocket and withdrew his wallet.
Cassidy waited patiently; she had all the time in the world. He could have taken the next thirty-five minutes to pull his credit card out, and she would have waited. Unfortunately, it only took him a second. She grabbed up the card and walked it to the register, tossing it in.
“You out there alone, then, at the lake house?” David asked.
Before she could answer, Mac interjected with a low rumble, half amused, half knowing, “Hey, sweetheart, am I gonna get any service today?”
Entering David’s drink into the computer to start his tab, she asked coldly, “What do you want?”
She heard a chuckle, followed by a tapping noise. “How about this one?”
Cassidy glared at the screen in front of her. He was sitting behind the taps. He was attempting to get her to look at him. He’d never ordered anything on tap before, not from her, at least. She turned toward him, using the time to steel herself for whatever derisive expression was on his face.
Her back against the counter, she eyed the taps, but he had dropped his hand. “Which one?”
Leaning on his elbows, he gestured her forward by crooking his finger, trying to hold her gaze. “C’mon, Day.”
Cassidy checked out David, who was as interested in her interaction with Mac as Mac had been in hers with him. Not sure if Mac would allude to that night or not, and not wanting to take the chance, she approached the taps and reached beneath the counter for a glass. Still avoiding his eyes, she read the three possibilities: a Colorado brewer’s light beer, an IPA, and an Irish lager. She’d peg him for one of the latter two, but the light beer was the most popular.
She glanced at him and then pointedly at the taps. “I can’t read your mind.”