“She’s going to play dirty.” Miles reached for a chicken wing at the center of the table and placed it on the plate in front of him.
“We’re not kids anymore,” Gil said. “Can’t we just let the best person win?”
The guys laughed at this.
“Oh, Gilbert, Gilbert.” Jake patted Gil’s back. “Buckle up. This fall’s election is going to be a wild ride for you, friend.”
Gil took another drink of his soda and listened as the conversation moved on to other topics. When he was about to leave for the night, someone walked into the tavern and headed straight to the bar. He thought his mind was playing tricks on him at first because Moira was supposed to be at book club with the women who regularly gathered at Lakeside Books.
Gil got up and started moving in her direction before he could talk himself out of it.
“Where are you going, buddy?” Miles asked before noticing who was sitting at the bar.
“I thought you were over her,” Jake said, lifting his brows high on his forehead.
“I am.” Gil turned his back to his friends and continued walking.
Moira straightened when she noticed him sit beside her.
“I’ve been looking for you,” Gil said in a low voice meant only for her ears.
She averted her gaze. “Oh? What for?”
The bartender slid a drink in front of Moira. She took it between her hands but didn’t move to take a sip. Instead, she just stared into its liquid depths.
Gil wondered what she was doing. There was something about her that looked lost tonight. She must be to find herself here at the bar instead of Lakeside Books. “Was book club canceled?”
“We ended early. Pregnancy makes Trisha tired.” Moira shrugged and continued to stare at her beverage.
“Is something wrong with your drink?” he asked.
She finally met his gaze. The color of her hazel eyes was more green than brown tonight. Maybe it was the low lighting, but he also saw golden flecks in the irises. “I don’t usually drink alone. And never at bars.” Her chin lifted as she stared back at him.
Gil looked at the drink again. “So why did you just order that one?”
She shrugged, her gaze once again falling on the drink in front of her. “If there’s ever been a week when I needed one of these, it’s this one. No thanks to you.”
“Moira…”
She shook her head and held her hand out to the side, halting his words. “I miss the days when a drink was easy. A way to kick back and leave your cares at the door.”
Gil looked at his reflection in the mirrored backsplash on the wall. He wondered if something had happened to make Moira gun-shy with public drinks. “If you want to have that, I’ll make sure you get home safely.”
In the mirror, he saw her look at him through their reflections. “Just like you did that night?”
Gil knew exactly which night she was referring to. “You should know that you can trust me, Moira. Always.”
“Trust you not to take advantage of me, yeah, of course. Trust you not to kick my mom when she’s down? Nope.” She pushed back from the bar and stood. “I forgot you’d be here tonight. This wasn’t a good idea anyway.” She gestured to the drink. “You can have it. It’s on me.”
“Moira…” he said.
She stopped walking but didn’t look back at him.
“For what it’s worth, I tried to find alternatives for Hannigan Street parking. I really did. There weren’t any other options.”
“My mom only sold her building because my dad got sick. She had no choice. But the town does have a choice in this matter. She never would have sold the building if she’d known it would be demolished one day.” Moira finally looked at him, her eyes suspiciously shiny. “Do you know at one point she was planning to rename her shop the Good Luck Café?”
Gil shook his head. “No, I didn’t know that. Because it’s on the corner of Good Luck Avenue?” he asked.
“No, because once she opened, the business brought her nothing but good luck. It’s where she met my dad. It’s where she found out she was pregnant with me. She even got a hundred-dollar tip one time from a movie star who was passing through town. She kept her business as Sweetie’s because that’s what everyone in town already knew it as, and some things should never be messed with.” Moira narrowed her eyes.
Gil cleared his throat. “I’ve already spoken to Della. I’ll help Darla find a new spot to relocate. I’ll even help her move. I’ll do whatever I can to make this transition as smooth as possible.”
Moira looked defeated. Gil wanted to wrap his arms around her and comfort her, even though he was technically the villain in this story.
“You’ve already done enough, don’t you think?”
* * *
Gil’s eyelids were hanging heavily, and the world was disappearing little by little as he lay in his bed later that night. Then someone knocked, and Goldie leaped off the bed, charging toward the front of the house.
Gil eyed the digital clock on his nightstand. It was only nine thirty p.m., early by sleep standards, but he was eager to put the day behind him. Who would be visiting this time of night? He sat up and slipped his feet into a pair of slippers. When he got to the front door, he peeked out the peephole. Should’ve known.
Gil opened the door and greeted his brother cheerily despite the fact he’d been pulled out of bed. “Hey, Doug. What are you doing here?”
Doug patted Goldie’s head as she greeted him. “I want to go over the campaign.” He walked past Gil into the house.
Gil closed the door behind his brother and turned. “It’s a little late, isn’t it?”
Doug pulled out a chair at the kitchen table. “Mom and Dad are still up.”
“Did they say you could come over?”
Doug looked offended, not for the first time lately. “I’m twenty-one years old, Gilly.”
“Right. Sorry.” Gil massaged a hand over his face. Technically Doug had become an adult when he’d turned eighteen. It was only within the last couple of months, however, that he’d pointed out the way Gil and their parents were still treating him like a kid. “Would you like a cup of tea or something?” Gil asked, heading toward the kitchen.
“Hot cocoa?” Doug asked.
Gil gave him a strange look. “It’s March, buddy. Hot cocoa is for winter.”
“Who says?”
Gil chuckled softly. “You’re right. You can drink whatever you want whenever you want. I think I’ve got some mix left over in the cabinet.”
“With marshmallows.” His brother offered a wide smile that made his glasses slide down his nose. One thing about Doug was that he could be offended one minute but drop his hard feelings in a quick second. Doug didn’t hold bitterness or grudges. He was as easygoing a guy as they came.
“Of course.” Gil turned toward the cabinet and grabbed the cocoa mix. Then he turned the kettle on and leaned against the counter as he waited for the water to boil. It only took a minute before it was bubbling.
“Here you go.” Gil walked the mug over to his brother, who’d taken a seat at the table. Gil sat down beside him with his own mug of decaf coffee.