Page 4 of Hooked on Marshall (Hooked #9)
The moment she bursts into tears, I move without thinking.
While everyone looks on, I scoop her into my arms and carry her into Mark’s office.
Kicking the door shut behind me, I settle her on the loveseat and kneel beside her.
Great sobs rack her body as I pull her purse from her grasp and set it on the floor.
She immediately covers her face with her right hand and attempts to turn away.
I grab her left hand and hold it in both of mine, rubbing my thumb across her soft skin.
As I watch her curl into herself, my chest burns with…
something . I can’t really place the emotion now, but I do know that I will do whatever I can to take this pain away from her.
While I don’t know her that well, I recall Mark telling me about her when he first hired her and then promoted her to a keyholder position.
He was obviously impressed with her, as I have been in the short weeks I’ve been here.
If someone has done something to hurt her, I’ll be hard pressed not to-
“I’m sorry,” she gasps as she bolts upright. “I’m…shit, I’m sorry.”
She tries to pull her hand away, but I don’t allow it.
I grip it firmly and adjust my position so I’m directly in front of her.
On my knees. Her legs slightly parted in her work pants.
For a moment, I imagine us in this position in a much more intimate setting.
But I quickly slap that thought out of my mind and get back to the problem at hand.
“There’s no need to apologize, Lana,” I say gently. “I’m here to help. Whatever you need, okay? What can I do to help?”
Her entire body shudders as she sucks in a shaky breath.
When her eyes open and lock with mine, the normal hazel color has brightened to a light green.
And my body reacts once again to her beauty.
This time, with an uncomfortable twitch behind the zipper of my jeans.
Somehow, I cover my reaction from showing on my face. And Lana finally starts talking.
“I’m sorry,” she says again. “I’m not normally that clumsy.”
“It’s fine,” I tell her. “Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Okay, then,” I nod. “Tell me what’s going on so I can help.”
She closes her eyes and purses her full lips together. Then she lets out a breath through her nose as she shakes her head.
“I’ll be fine,” she says quietly. “I just need a minute.”
I take her in for another moment and decide not to press her. Instead, I pat her hand and nod my head before I stand.
“Take all the time you need,” I tell her. “We’re fine out there right now.”
She nods, too. Then I turn and walk out of the office, closing the door softly behind me. I’m two steps toward the front of the house when Sherri stops me.
“What’s up with Lana? Is she okay?”
“I think so,” I nod. “She’ll be out in a bit.”
She nods, taking my explanation well enough and walking away.
I get back behind the bar and stew for a bit while I force a smile and take care of some customers.
Ten minutes pass and I’m about to head back to the office to check on Lana when she finally walks out.
And fuck me, if it isn’t some kind of sight to behold.
Whatever had upset her earlier seems to be ancient history.
There’s a beautiful smile on her face and she’s walking with her head held high as she approaches a high-top table that has just been seated.
As is her way, she makes conversation with the couple before she goes about taking their order.
I’m smiling before I consciously realize it.
Even more so when she approaches with her ticket for drinks.
“Two Sam Adams, please.”
Her voice is light, but she’s back to not making eye contact with me.
And if I’m being honest, I suddenly miss it even though I’ve only been blessed with the sight of her gorgeous eyes a handful of times recently.
With practiced ease, I grab two pilsner glasses and head for the taps.
As soon as they’re poured, I set them on the bar for Lana to pick up.
She does so in less than thirty seconds after giving me another drink order.
And so goes the afternoon.
Lana is the perfect server to all her tables. She’s distant from me. But every time she’s checked her phone, something has passed over her features that makes me wonder what’s really going on. And if that same trouble is why she was so upset when she came in.
Unfortunately, I have no time to question her before we’re locked up for the night and she’s out the back door to her car before I can catch up to her.
Uncertain what else to do, I swing by to check on Gina and my nieces to make sure they’re ready for their return to the real world tomorrow.
Luckily, Audrey is in third grade and Nina is in kindergarten in the elementary school where Gina works, so at least Gina will be close if either of the girls has a breakdown.
As far as Gina goes, she’s been stronger than anyone could have expected her to be.
Her own family went back home earlier today, but they only live one town away.
And just before I head to my childhood home, where I’ve been staying with my parents since Mark’s accident, Gina follows me onto the porch and gives me the opening I didn’t know I wanted until this moment.
“I need your help,” she sighs.
“Anything,” I tell her with a smile. “You know that.”
“I know,” she nods. “I just…don’t want any of you upset with me for it.”
“We’re all here for you, Gina,” I tell her earnestly. “Whatever you need, we’ve got you.”
“God, I hope so.”
She looks down when she says this. So, I step forward and grip her shoulders until she looks up at me.
“Spill it, Gina,” I say. “What do you need?”
Tears fill her eyes as she barely whispers the words.
“I want to sell the Alehouse.”