She nods and keeps canvassing the area, probably trying to figure out where the original structure is. “I do. If I’m seeing it right, it’ll cut the stage in half which gives even more room. You can even add a pool table over here.”
I chuckle. “Do you want Dwayne to ever go home? He’ll never leave if we get a pool table.”
She smiles at me and it hits me right in the gut. I love how carefree and lively she is. Kiersten is always this way at work. It makes me wonder if she’s this happy-go-lucky in her home life, too. Not that I’ll ever find out. Still, I can’t help my own curiosity.
“We’ll just put a bow on it and tell him it’s our gift to him for being such a good customer,” she says with a laugh. “But seriously. I don’t know if the last owner was planning to have lots of live music or concerts or something, but this area is wasted space we could be taking advantage of. We could keep the original design for things like karaoke night or, oh! Trivia night. That’s always fun. Interesting things to get people engaged and draw a crowd. Have five-dollar buckets of beer on those nights and do some easy marketing on social media. This place will be hopping in no time.”
“What about the dance floor?”
“With all the extra space, we can move it over, add tables around it, and voilà. A whole new feel.”
Looking around, I rub my bottom lip absentmindedly trying to envision all the ideas she has. My imagination can’t necessarily see it, but even from a logical standpoint, everything she’s suggesting makes sense.
“That sounds feasible actually. And with the exception of labor and some supplies, it may not cost much.”
“And,” she adds excitedly, “it’ll probably only take a day or two to pull off which means not closing the bar for very long.”
“Not a bad idea. Just need to hire some labor and go check the home improvement store for a price list.” I run my hand down my face, already tired from being here so much. Having Kiersten means I’m not always at the front, but living on the property means I can’t get away from my job either. I’m not complaining. It’s just the reality of being a business owner.
“Are you okay?”
I look over at her, confused by her question and the concern in her eyes. “What? Oh yeah. Just tired. I feel like I work non-stop.”
“You do. You need some time for your brain to rest.”
I scoff. “No, I need my brain to work faster to figure out some solutions so I can take some real time off.”
Kiersten purses her lips. I know that look. It’s the same one my dad used to give me when I would say something he not only didn’t agree with, but thought was ridiculous. It wouldn’t end there. “The look” was a precursor to him being in my face, spewing shit about what a loser I was and how I’d never amount to anything. Of course, he didn’t stick around long enough to see if he was right or not. Douchebag.
I push thoughts of my asshole dad out of my mind, knowing Kiersten’s expression isn’t actually the same, just triggered an unwelcome memory. “Your brain won’t do that if it doesn’t have some downtime. I don’t mean sleeping. I mean a full mental break. Why don’t you get out of here for a while? Come with me to a barbecue tomorrow.”
My eyebrows lift slightly at the offer. I know it’s not a date, but it’s still an extended invitation to spend time together outside of work. Part of me wants to say yes immediately. The other part knows agreeing would be testing my own boundaries. “I appreciate that, but I can’t just show up at someone’s house uninvited.”
“It’s not uninvited. I’m inviting you,” she argues. “And It’s not a random person’s house. It’s Jaxon Hart’s best friend’s house.”
I think back through my memories quickly. “Do I know his best friend?”
“I don’t know. Do you follow the San Antonio Steer?”
“As much as anyone else in town.” Which is a lot. Every football fan follows the hometown team. It’s like a requirement to live in Texas.
“Then you probably do know Heath Germaine.”
“Oh, yeah. I do know him. Did he come to the reception?”
Kiersten laughs and we head back over to the bar as we wait for the first customers to arrive. “How could you miss him? He was the best man and he’s huge.”
“I was a little too enamored by Jaxon’s dad. The man is a legend and he was in my bar. I almost got teary.”
Kiersten rolls her eyes playfully and ties her apron around her waist since she’s waitressing tonight. “You men are all alike with that hero-worship crap. But if it helps, Jason Hart will be at the barbecue tomorrow. Does that give you an incentive to go?”
Honestly, yes. But it still feels weird to show up at some pro ball player’s humble abode—two degrees of separation or not.
“Kiersten, I can’t just show up at Heath Germaine’s house for a barbecue.” I grab a couple of limes out of the fridge and prepare to slice them. Kiersten grabs the lemons to do the same while she keeps trying to pressure me.
“Yes, you can. He’s my friend, too. Look, I’ll text him right now.” She pulls her phone out of her back pocket and relays what she’s typing. “Can. I. Bring. A. Friend. To. The. Barbecue?”
Just a few seconds later, the phone chimes. She looks at it and smiles, turning it around to show me.
It reads, “Of course. The more the merrier.”
I could keep arguing but in truth, I do need to get out of this place for a few hours to decompress. And in general, I’m curious to see what kind of home a pro athlete with a multi-million-dollar contract lives in. I keep that bit to myself, though.
“Fine. I’ll go. But only so I can be somewhere other than Walmart for food. And to catch up with Jaxon for a bit.”
They aren’t total lies. I just keep the part about seeing what Kiersten’s like outside of work to myself.
I sigh at how pathetic I am. She didn’t even ask me on a date and I’ve already caved.
TEN
Kiersten
“I do it, mama! I do it!” Carson is practically hysterical as he jumps up and down, making sure I don’t accidentally ring the doorbell. Pressing buttons is his newest favorite thing. Riding on an elevator with him is an adventure because you never know how many floors you’re going to visit when his sneaky little fingers start lighting things up.
Thankfully there’s only one at Heath and Lauren’s monstrosity of a house, unless you count the buttons on the gate code. Fortunately, Carson couldn’t reach those from his car seat and had no choice but to let me do it or we’d still be stuck outside. This time, though, he won’t give me any grace.
“I do it!” He yells one last time before I pick him up and balance him on my hip.
“I know, I know. Here ya go.”
Leaning forward, he stretches out his little finger to accomplish his goal. You would think he just won the lottery with how delighted he is at ringing a doorbell.
It takes a few seconds until Lauren’s voice comes through the speaker.
“Hang on, I’m coming.”
I try to wait patiently while the pint-sized holy terror runs in circles around my legs. He loves coming here. It’s literally his home away from home. I just hope he doesn’t get too used to living the posh life. It is highly unlikely I’ll ever come into enough money for something like this.