Page 52

This was a mistake.
Of course, it was Amelia. You can’t follow FBI agents.
They don’t like it and get cranky. All I got was one measly slow dance, from the most annoying agent on the planet.
My heart thumps in protest. He’s not annoying. He’s dedicated to his job and protective. He has a tender heart under all his armor, and I like him despite his reservations about me. I always fall too fast. My fatal flaw.
Okay, one of them anyway.
But I could have sworn he felt it too. I shake my head as I let myself out of the swanky bar. I shouldn’t be too hard on him. He has a rough job, and I have a feeling there’s a reason he won’t let himself chase something with me. But his constant rejections still sting.
I pass the door for the bar I should have gone to. The one with the greasy cheese curds and more down-to-earth atmosphere. I stop, turn, then walk inside.
The aesthetic can be summed up with two words: Old West. Or is it one word? It feels like I stepped into a cave. Smells like it too. The scents of damp dirt and rotting wood add to the experience, complimenting the old-fashioned lanterns that dot the brownish-gray walls. The actual bar counter is made from old mining cars and there’s a display of liquor bottles that look like they’ve been around for a century. Did they redo this place from the last time I was here? If they did, it wasn’t an upgrade.
It’s not packed like next door. But it’s got a nice mix of baby boomers and…older baby boomers.
I approach the bar, studying the menu.
“What can I get you?” an older man asks.
“I’ll take an order of…” I look at the sign again. “Golden nuggets and a Miner’s Classic, with no lettuce, onions or tomatoes.”
“No veggies on the burger. Got it.” He nods and takes my order back to the kitchen as I collapse onto a stool.
“Millie?”
I startle at the voice, goosebumps breaking out over my skin. I hadn’t realized I’d sat next to anyone, but I did far worse.
I sat by my ex.
“Justin?” I swallow, sitting up straighter. “What are you doing here?”
He hooks his thumb over his shoulder. “I live down the block, remember?”
Seems I forgot a few more pertinent details about this place. My memory is really failing me these days.
“Right.” I turn and face the bar. I haven’t paid, I could stand up and leave but that would be rude. I’m reaching for my wallet to leave money when Justin speaks up.
“How have you been?”
“Oh, you know.” I wave my hand between us, creating a very flimsy barrier. “Busy busy.”
“I tried to come by your house again.”
Again? Maybe I do need to file a restraining order on him.
“When did you move?” he asks. There’s the smallest hint of hurt in his eyes, but I don’t allow myself to dwell on it. I see he’s nursing a beer. He was always more emotional and kind when he was inebriated.
“Recently.” I opt for the vague answer.
“I’m glad I didn’t try something romantic and climb through your bedroom window.” His lips lift into a half-smile.
“Oh,” I exhale an awkward laugh. “I mean you could have tried. But I don’t think the Gong’s would have liked that.”
A steaming plate of food is set down in front of me and I snag a greasy cheese curd and pop it into my mouth.
“I miss you.”