Liam’s face crumpled. “I guess so. We could do some panini pressed sandwiches… like grilled cheese.”
I sloshed my straw around in my drink. We’d only been open for two days and I already felt like such a failure.
“Aw, come on,” Liam said. “Cheer up. Hey, look!” He pointed to the TV, eyes bright and green. “The story about us is airing!”
My heart jumped in my chest as I sat straighter, looking at the TV above the bar, watching Liam and me onscreen serving happy customers. The story had gotten bumped by a couple days… even after they insisted that first day was the only option available.
Kim Waze held her microphone, talking to the camera with Liam, Nick, and me in the background of the shot. “These adorable, new lovebirds may be able to satiate your sweet tooth,” she said, not finishing her thought as I groaned.
“Uh-oh,” Liam said, his face draining of color.
“…But don’t let that fool you,” Kim continued, her eyebrow lifting. The footage cut to Liam punching Nick in the jaw. “They’re also tough as nails.”
My stomach bottomed out. “Oh, God. She caught that on camera?”
Liam didn’t answer… just pulled his wine glass to his lips and took a big gulp.
“While we don’t have audio on what was said to incite the violence, we can only assume it wasn’t sweeter than pie. And it sure didn’t seem to deter our lovebirds from celebrating their food truck opening.”
The footage cut again to the moment after Nick walked away when Liam almost kissed me. If I thought I was going to be sick before, now I might pass out. Straight up, black out and land on the floor beneath this bar.
“Be sure to check out The Dump Truck for all your sweet tooth goodies… especially if you’re newly single!”
Liam and I sat there in stunned silence. Neither of us speaking. Or drinking. That’s how bad this was. I couldn’t even drink the troubles away. “My sister’s going to see this report,” I said.
Liam blinked, glancing over at me. “Maybe she won’t? It’s on the five o’clock news—doesn’t she usually work late?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, willing away the tear that edged between my eyelids. “In this small town, you don’t think someone will talk about that footage? Besides, I told everyone we knew that this story was being aired.” I dropped my face in my hands and scrubbed at my eyelids. “What are we going to do? We’ll be the laughing stock—”
“Is the prosecco I called ahead about pre-chilled?”
A deep voice from across the room interrupted me midsentence, and my heart stopped at the sound of Dan’s voice. I’d recognize that damn voice of his anywhere.
“Um, yes,” the hostess answered. “We keep all our prosecco chilled.”
“Really? Because last time we were here, it was room temperature.” No. Just… no. He couldn’t be here. Slowly, I lifted my face from my hands and spun on my bar stool to where he stood near the front door.
“Oh, God,” I whispered. But like a train wreck, I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. And maybe more importantly… her. The hippie bitch he’d been fucking for most of our relationship. She wore a brown peasant skirt and some embroidered top with her hair in braids. Braids for God’s sake!
“What?” Liam asked, following my gaze to Dan and Hippie Chick. “Oh. Oh no. That’s him—them—isn’t it?”
I barely managed to nod when Dan’s gaze lifted and found mine. If I hadn’t been so shell shocked, I might have taken pleasure in how horrified he also looked.
He leaned in to Hippie Chick’s ear, whispering something. Her gaze cut directly to mine as I felt my lip curl under. Maybe it wasn’t fair to be so mad at her. She hadn’t offered me an engagement ring and a lifelong promise of love and happiness. And yet, she’d entered into a relationship with Dan most likely knowing I existed. Knowing she was the other woman. And if that was something she was okay with? Well, maybe she didn’t deserve the brunt of my anger, but she certainly deserved some of it.
The hostess led Hippie Chick to a table while Dan slowly strolled toward me.
“Uh… hi,” he said. “I didn’t realize you’d be here.”
My cheek dropped to my shoulder. “No, shit, really? I’m shocked.”
His eyes narrowed. “You know, this is already hard enough without your attitude.”
I blinked, widening my eyes dramatically, and placed a hand to my heart. “Oh, I’m sorry. Is this hard for you? I’ll be sure to try to make it easier then.” I snorted and took a gulp of my Limoncello, feeling the alcohol numbing my body. And yet my heart, my stupid heart wasn’t numb at all.
“Unbelievable,” Liam muttered and placed his palm at the center of my back, rubbing those same reassuring circles that had felt so good that night at my house when I’d been puking in the bathroom.
“Who the hell is this?” Dan asked, his brown eyes glaring, suddenly hard, at Liam.
A single jolt of happiness zipped across my skin, delighting in how annoyed Dan looked at the sight of Liam touching me.
“You know Liam Evans, right?”
Dan’s gaze slipped up and down Liam’s body, and I bit back the grin as he seemed to suck in his stomach and puff his nonexistent chest muscles.
“I need to arrange a time to come get the rest of my stuff,” Dan said, returning his attention to me.
“What stuff?” I asked innocently.
“Just some odds and ends,” he said. “A few suits, my desk, the recliner.”
Liam chuckled beside me, his shoulders bouncing. “Good luck with that,” Liam said through his laughter. Which only made me start giggling, too, at the memory of the La-Z-Boy massacre.
“What?” Dan said, his voice raising enough that the bartender seemed to be taking notice now. From across the restaurant, Dan’s
