Page 62

THIRTY-ONE
Cari
Idon’t call Tesslike Conner suggested. As soon as Patrick leaves, I run upstairs long enough to text Chase.
Me: Can we move our dinner to
tomorrow night?
I chew on my lip for a second, debating before I send a follow-up text.
Me: And can Patrick come?
It takes about thirty seconds for him to text back.
Chase: Am I to bear witness to the
First official date between Boston’s
soon-to-be, newest art darling and
its most eligible bachelor?
Me: No.
You’ll be bearing witness to the
third.
I laugh to counteract the heaviness that’s settled into my chest. Patrick and I are dating. If I think about it too hard, I might pass out.
Chase: Can I be your Dude of Honor?
Me: Shuddup.
Chase: LOL. Yeah. I’ll move reservations
and let Mandy know… have fun.;)
Shoving my phone into my pocket, I take the front stairs, feeding myself into the office and into the hallway. Passing the bathrooms, I step into the main bar area, surprised at how busy it is for a Wednesday afternoon. “Hey, Paddy—can I get a double bacon and cheese and two orders of onion rings, to go?” I say, sliding onto the barstool in front of where he stands, large glass pitcher tilted under the taps.
“Goin’ to see Tessie, then?” Paddy says, scratching out my order onto a ticket before pinning to the wheel in the window. A face I don’t recognize pops up in the window and takes the ticket. A moment later, I hear the sizzle of patties hitting the grill.
“Yeah,” I say, looking around the place. Aside from the missing staircase and the fact that it’s way busier than I remember, Gilroy’s looks exactly the same. “I figure it’ll go better with food.”
“That girl loves her onion rings.” Paddy throws me a wink before righting the pitcher. He grabs a stack of pints from the cooler. I watch him move around the bar to deliver the beer to a bunch of college bros—probably ditching class to day drink and play pool. He wipes down a few tables and checks on customers before making his way behind the bar.
“Glad to be back?” he says, pulling his towel off his shoulder to wipe down a stack of glasses.
I nod, feeling guilty about how relieved I am to be sitting here again. I love my parents and the struggling little town I grew up in, but this is my home now. “I never should’ve left.”
“Well, you’re home now. Ain’t no damage been done that can’t be fixed over a few pints—” Paddy’s eyes twinkle at me. “Or a few onion rings.” Before I can say anything, he continues. “And don’t mind Con. He’s as nosy as they come.” Behind him, a bell dings and a brown paper bag appears in the window. “Can’t find his own so he’s gotta stick his nose in everyone else’s.”
Paddy retrieves the bag and slides it across the bar. Down the length of it, I see the new bartender Con mentioned. It’s his friend, Logan. This time he’s wearing the ugliest Christmas sweater (despite the fact that it’s early March) I’ve ever seen—another cat. This one with gold foil antlers and a red blinking light for a nose. I’m about to say hello, but he looks at me, giving me the slightest shake of his head. For whatever reason, he doesn’t want me to acknowledge that we’ve met.
Ignoring Logan, I focus on Paddy. “Find his own what?” I say, gathering the bag before dropping off my stool.
Paddy whips the towel off his shoulder and picks up another glass to polish. “Happiness.”