Page 53 of Baby, It’s You (Clairesville #1)

Olive

Three weeks later

I toss a few more items into a box laying on my apartment floor and decide that’s the last of what I’m bringing to Atlanta.

I’ve spent the past few weeks saying goodbye to the people I treasure most. I finally got a new battery for my car and had some maintenance done on it, so it will be ready for the move.

It drained the small savings I had to fix Barney up, but I plan to look for a job as soon as I get to Atlanta.

I will be leaving Clairesville for good in a few days when my lease for the month is up.

I want to get out of here before the deal closes on Whiskey Jane’s.

I can’t handle seeing them bulldoze the place.

I feel sick just thinking about it, knowing the bad guy won in the end.

Tripp is getting exactly what he wanted all along.

I have constantly wondered why Jane handed the bar over to him without even mentioning it to me, but I guess she didn’t have to explain.

She was his mother, no matter how he treated her in return.

I look over to the corner of my room and see something under my dresser. I bend down and pick it up. It’s a note from Hunter. When I first lost Jane, he used to leave me notes constantly. I sit on the floor and read it.

Olive,

You are strong.

You are beautiful.

You are important.

You are loved.

You are unique.

You are a gift.

My eyes well with tears as I read the words over and over again. Deciding I like the mantra, I tuck his note in the back pocket of my jeans.

Hunter saw deeply into my soul. He knew that I loved him back, and he called me out on it during our last night together.

There hasn’t been an hour that’s gone by since we said goodbye that I haven't thought of him. I begged him that night, after we slept together, to end it there. I told him I would be leaving in a few days, and I couldn’t handle seeing him anymore.

That it would put salt in the wound to say goodbye to each other another time after that magical night.

I told him that we needed to end contact completely, let the time together be what it was, and that he needed to move on with his life without me.

Hunter honored my wishes and hasn’t reached out to me again. The sadness in his eyes as he listened to me and agreed, even though I could tell he didn’t want to, just shows how good of a guy he is. I never deserved his love, not for a minute.

Whiskey Jane’s has been sitting vacant since I quit.

Sonjia called two weeks ago to inform me.

After I left, it caused a snowball effect and Rob walked out, then our regulars stopped showing up, too.

Without us, Tripp was unable to run the place alone, but he didn’t seem to care either way, so he closed the bar.

I’m sure he hasn’t lost an ounce of sleep since he shut off the lights for good.

Jane and Seymour would be devastated. I feel ashamed of myself for letting them down, but push the thought away.

My phone rings in my pocket, and I pull it out. Seeing Missy’s name on the caller ID, I answer.

“Hey, Missy.”

“Olive, turn on the news now ,” Missy commands from the other side of the call. “Channel 24.”

“Um, what?” I laugh.

“Do it!” she shouts.

“Okay, one sec.” I walk out to my living room, which is packed with boxes, and shuffle around for the remote control. When I find it under a couch pillow, I click it on as Missy says, “Hurry, hurry.”

I punch in the channel number. “Okay—” I start to chuckle but end up speechless when I see what’s on the screen.

Tripp’s face is there, with an arrested banner running across the top of the screen. I click the volume up to listen to the male news anchor.

“Local man Tripp Fern is under arrest after allegedly stealing money from clients in business dealings in New York. A viral YouTube video helped police discover his whereabouts when they found out that the bar where it was filmed belonged to his parents before their passing. He was arrested this morning outside of the bar, Whiskey Jane’s, and he has been charged with eight counts of investment fraud and two counts of fleeing law enforcement.

He is also being charged with four counts of fraud for allegedly forging documents stating he owned his late parents’ business.

He is currently being held at the Clairesville Detention Center. Bail and hearing details are unknown.”

The next news story starts to play and I silence the TV. My hand holding my phone begins to shake. “Holy shit.”

Missy says quietly—for once—on the other line, “He faked the deed to the bar, Olive. Jane never signed the business over to him. He doesn’t own it.”

I have no words to respond, and my legs give out from under me at the news.