Page 19 of Bed and Breakup (Dial Delights #15)
Molly
I’m skeptical of Key’s wingwoman idea, and it’s been a minute since I truly tried to look presentable, but as I give myself a last look in the mirror before leaving the inn, I admit I cleaned up pretty nice.
I’ve got on a loose fuchsia crop top that contrasts perfectly with the teal streaks in my hair and might show a glimpse of the sunflowers tattooed across my ribs if I move just right.
I paired it with high-waisted denim shorts that are a little frayed at the edges and black Doc Martens.
My hair is in loose waves around my shoulders, and I’ve got pink topaz earrings to match my top.
After touching up my thick black eyeliner, I look good enough to eat.
Walking to One More Round, I realize I haven’t felt so confident in months. I strut down Spring Street to the tunes of a street performer, feeling like I’m in a movie. Why is Keyana always right about making me leave the house?
When I walk in the door of One More Round, I’m stunned by how my old favorite dive now looks sleek and expensive.
Rich dark colors, leather booths, gold fixtures.
Clint really gussied it up. Inside are more than just the queer regulars; there are as many tourists as locals, and a spread of ages and genders that means Clint has truly made this the hottest bar in town.
Key spots me and makes a loud wolf whistle of approval over the bumping music.
Every head in the place turns in my direction, and I feel both right at home and like an interloper.
I weave through the crowd to Key’s tall table, trying to stifle the part of me that feels like I don’t belong here.
After a second, it’s clear that I’m the only one making myself feel out of place. Good old Dorothy and Eleanor, two of my favorite townies, totter over right away.
“Molly Garner, what a sight for sore eyes!” Dot says, her raspy voice sounding like a familiar song to my ears. She wraps me in a hug that smells like cigarette smoke and cherry cough drops. “And is that you, Keyana? Why, the lost generation has returned!”
Dot comes around the table to Key while I greet Eleanor. “It’s so good to see y’all,” I say with genuine enthusiasm. “I should have come by to visit as soon as I got into town.”
“You sure should have,” Eleanor says with a fond grin. “I made your favorite coconut cake last week.”
“The one with the caramel drizzle on top? Do you have any left? Let’s go, I would trade a cocktail for a slice of that in a heartbeat.”
Eleanor pats my cheek. “You know my cakes hardly make it out of the oven before they’re gone. I’ll make you another one. You staying at the Hummingbird?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Eleanor squints at me sympathetically. “Not the same as you left it, huh?” She worked the check-in desk for us part-time back in the day, but retired before Robin and I left. She must have heard about the terrible redesign through the grapevine.
“Say, is Robin back in town too?” Dot asks. “Could’ve sworn I saw her last week on my way to the crystal shop. You two back together?” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.
“Yes. Er, no.” I cringe, annoyed that my Robin-free night is already tainted. “She is back in town, but we’re not together.”
Dot looks confused. “Where’s she staying, then?”
My lips grow thinner as I bite back a grimace. “Also at the inn. Different rooms.”
Dorothy and Eleanor glance at each other. “We’ll see how long that lasts, eh?” Dot says under her breath.
I scoff. “I heard that!”
“I like that cane, Dot,” Key jumps in, gracefully changing the subject before I start a fight with a senior citizen. “The leopard print suits you. You still guiding walking tours?”
“Sure am!” Dot says proudly. “Little slower moving these days, but I’ll keep doing ’em long as I can stand.”
“Even if I keep begging her to retire so we can take that Olivia cruise we’ve been talking about for years,” Eleanor says, giving Dot one of those looks that only couples who have been together over half of their lives can share.
We chat for a little longer before Eleanor and Dot leave, saying it’s past their bedtime. Key immediately gets us back on task, pointing out potentially single hotties. I’ve got my eye on a stranger near the jukebox with a buzz cut and an eyebrow ring.
“I need a drink first,” I interrupt her. I head to the bar and, of course, immediately find another familiar face.
“Molly!” Clint ducks under the end of the bar to give me a hug. “You came!”
“Of course,” I say, embracing Clint. “The place looks spectacular.”
“Not as good as you, lady-killer.” Clint holds me by the elbows and examines my outfit. “Jesus Christ, you’re ripped. I’d almost go straight for you.”
“Thanks, Clint. You look amazing too. I love the lip ring.”
“Thanks, babe. And great news about the inn! Can’t wait to work out the details next week.
It’s exactly what I need to build my empire,” Clint says with a cheeky wink.
Someone calls for him from across the room, but before he goes, he tells a bartender, “Get this woman an espresso martini, on the house.”
The bartender starts mixing the drink, then does a double take before saying, “Molly? Is that you?”
I nearly fall over when I realize it’s Kayla, the daughter of the couple that owns the garden store. She was learning to drive last time I saw her. “Kayla? I can’t believe it. Are you old enough to work here?”
“I turned twenty-one last month,” Kayla says, beaming. “Oh my god, are you and Robin back together?”
“What? No,” I say, trying to keep my annoyance from spilling over. “Why would you think that?”
“Oh, sorry,” she says. “I guess I just figured if y’all ever came back, it would be together.”
“Nope,” I say, chin held high. “I’m here for work. It has nothing to do with—”
“Robin!” a handful of people cheer closer to the entrance, jolting my attention to you-know-who striding through the front door.
Why does the universe hate me?
I examine Robin from across the room. She has the audacity to look just as good as me tonight.
Maybe better. Her hair is slicked straight back, showing off her golden-brown eyes and life-ruining smile.
She’s got on a plain white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, unbuttoned low enough to be distracting.
Her tight black pants leave nothing to the imagination.
It’s a simple outfit, but one that looks effortlessly cool and makes me worry that I tried too hard with my eyeliner and crop top.
She’s quickly overtaken by queer tourists with pens and napkins in hand for autographs.
I guess that’s why she hasn’t left the inn much.
Robin manages to look both honored and embarrassed by all the attention.
I, however, probably look like someone just stole my handbag. Alarmed, angry, and highly suspicious.
“So Robin is back in town,” Kayla says as she pushes my drink to me atop the bar.
I drop a cash tip next to the glass. “I guess so. Thanks.”
It takes me a while to navigate the crowd around Robin to get back to my table.
“Holy shit, Robin looks good,” Key says as I sit down. “I totally get all the thirstiness you’ve been going through.”
“What is she even doing here?” I grumble, ignoring Key.
“You know I’m Team Molly, but it is a public space,” Keyana says. “And anyway, why should Robin get in the way of our mission? There are enough cuties to go around.”
The person with the buzz cut I’d put at the top of my list is currently staring at Robin with big heart eyes, so I’m not so sure. But Key shoves me in the direction of someone nursing a Bud Light at the far corner of the bar, seemingly uninterested in the celebrity sighting.
Gathering my courage, I chug my drink and sidle up to the stranger. “Hey there,” I say in a voice that I intended to be sultry but comes out corny. “You a local?”
The person looks up through fashionable glasses, clearly noticing me for the first time all night. They have a lopsided haircut that screams gay. “Nope, visiting from Fort Smith for the weekend,” they say, seeming wary but curious.
“Cool,” I say, feeling a bead of sweat drip down the back of my neck. “Can I buy you another beer?”
The stranger’s expression goes sympathetic. “Not unless you want to buy one for my wife too,” they say gently. “She’s in the bathroom.”
I just now notice the half-empty Tecate to their left. “Eh, why not.” Grabbing Kayla’s attention, I order a whiskey soda and another round for the out-of-towners. I pass the drinks over with an “Enjoy Eureka, y’all.”
I’m halfway back to our table when I screech to a halt.
Is that Jesse ? Without even thinking about it, I elbow my way through Robin’s audience to wrap my arms around him.
I’ve been at One More Round for an hour and have already hugged more people than all last year.
Something about this town brings out the softie in me.
“Jesse! I’m so happy to see you!” I shout over the noise around us.
Jesse and his partner, Caro, were two of our first employees at the inn, and two of my favorite people on the planet.
I kept up with them for a little while after leaving town via text and the occasional FaceTime, but as much as I adore them, seeing them thrive in the town where Robin and I used to be so happy hurt too much. I let our communication fizzle out.
“Molly! Holy shit!” Jesse lifts me off the ground in his excitement. He’s gotten buff. “What are you doing here? Are you and Robin back together?”
“No!” When I say it this time, I have an echo. I turn to see Robin has taken an interest in our conversation.
“Oh. Sorry,” Jesse says, looking contrite. “I just figured since Robin’s settling in here for a while, and you’re here too…”
“Settling in?” I look at Robin, my eyes narrowed.
“Didn’t she tell you?” Jesse says. “She’s my new sous-chef!”
“Your sous-chef?” I say to Jesse. “Does that mean you’re a head chef now?”
He puffs up with pride. “Not just a head chef. I own a restaurant. Counterculture.”