Page 6 of Last Call (Open Tab #5)

She’d forgotten about ituntil she pulled her coat from the closet to take to the cleaners.

She stared at the number, spinning the napkin in her hand, picturing her father holding court at the bar.

She still couldn’t say what prompted her to make the call.

An hour later, she’d made an offer on the pub and the adjoining property.

When she called her mother to say she’d be moving home to revitalize the bar, Ida asked her if she’d been drinking.

Fallon laughed. She rarely indulged in more than a glass of wine or a beer.

That probably didn’t bode well for her plan.

She assured her mother she was committed, to which Ida replied, “You should be committed. ” Maybe so.

Fallon didn’t make career or financial decisions on impulse.

At least, she hadn’t until now. Her impulsive choice came with realities she hadn’t considered.

Besides the fact that Fallon knew absolutely nothing about managing people or marketing, and even less about the restaurant business, she also didn’t have a place to live.

Whiskey Springs wasn’t full of temporary housing options.

That meant she’d need to move back home—literally.

She adored her mother, and Fallon could tell Ida was happy for the company.

Three months of sleeping in her childhood bedroom left Fallon anxious for some alone time—or some time alone in the company of an attractive woman.

Whiskey Springs wasn’t exactly a hotbed for lesbian bars or single women, for that matter.

She was grateful when Deam called to say he’d be headed home a week before Thanksgiving.

One of his friends was giving a lecture at the University of Vermont, and he planned to spend a couple of nights in Burlington.

It surprised Fallon when he invited her to join him.

A couple of nights in a hotel, away from her mother’s lectures about making big decisions after a loss, felt like heaven.

Fallon found it a bitodd when she thought about it; she didn’t know many of Dean’s friends.

She had met a few at his wedding, but he seldom mentioned anyone from work.

Olivia Nolan was a notable exception. She came into Dean’s life after he married Beth.

Fallon didn’t know much about Olivia except that her brother seemed to idolize her.

That was unusual. Fallon adored her brother, but Dean’s ego typically stopped him from putting others on a pedestal.

His enthusiastic praise and admiration for Olivia caught Fallon’s attention.

She was curious to see if this woman lived up to the hype.

Fallon casually walked into the hotel bar, scanning the small room for Dean.

A voice spoke from behind her. “You must be Fallon.”

Fallon turned on her heel.

“Yep. You’re definitely related to Dean,” the woman said, slurring her words slightly. “Liv,” she introduced herself.

Fallon’s brow shot up. So this was the famous Olivia Nolan. Fallon caught her arm when Olivia’s stance wavered.

“I hope my brother is still on his feet,” Fallon teased.

“I’m on my feet,” Olivia replied.

“So you are.”

Olivia bent down and removed her heels. She held them up for Fallon’s inspection. “Heels,” she began, “And whiskey are not a good marriage.”

Fallon bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Is there such a thing as a good marriage?” Fallon bantered.

“Yes. Wine and cheese,” Olivia replied, leaning into Fallon. “Or cheese and anything. Whiskey and cheese!” she declared.

Fallon chuckled. “Let’s get you a seat before you topple over.”

Olivia laughed, a melodic sound that made Fallon’s heart skip a beat.

Fallon guided Olivia onto a barstool, taking a moment to appraise her brother’s friend.

It was easy to see how Olivia had captivated Dean.

She was captivating. Her high cheekbones and smooth brown skin complemented a pair of engaging hazel eyes that sparkled with mischief and intelligence.

Her hair fell in a tumble of dark curls just above her shoulders.

Fallon felt an immediate pull of attraction, stronger than she’d experienced in a long time.

Fallon politely asked the bartender for two glasses of water.

“My hero,” Olivia proclaimed. “How ever will I repay you?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something ,” Fallon bantered back. “Though I’d settle for you not falling off that stool, for starters.”

“No promises,” Olivia said, offering Fallon a wink. “At least I know someone is here to save me.”

“Somehow, I doubt you require much saving.”

Olivia leaned closer to Fallon. “What we need and what we require are not always the same things.”

Fallon swallowed a growing lump in her throat. It was no wonder Dean raved about Olivia Nolan. And where was Dean, anyway? Not that she was complaining about this one-on-one time with his captivating friend.

Olivia leaned close. “So, tell me, Fallon Foster, what makes a successful investment broker leave the city for the sticks? I sense a story.”

“Oh, I’m full of stories,” Fallon replied. “Somehow, I doubt mine are as interesting as yours.”

Olivia threw her head back and laughed. “What exactly has Dean told you about me?”

“Not as much as he’s apparently told you about me,” Fallon said. “Although the way he sings your praises, I’ve started to wonder if there’s a hidden choir boy behind his army uniform.”

Olivia snorted. “I’m sorry. I have this vision of Dean wearing a tunic.”

“I’m positive I don’t want to know what you two are talking about,” Dean said as he came up behind them.

Fallon shrugged.

“Were you ever a choir boy?” Olivia asked him.

“You mean like in a church?” Dean asked. “No. I was an altar boy.”

That did it. Olivia fell onto the bar laughing.

“Why is that so strange?”

“You’re full of shit,” Fallon said. “We’re not even Catholic.”

“I’ve prayed at a few altars,” Dean quipped. “Not as many as you…”

“Jealousy doesn’t become you,” Fallon replied

Olivia looped her arm around Fallon’s. “I like her,” she told Dean. “She reminds me of you, only sexier with a sense of humor.”

Fallon pulled herself from the memory. “I’d never met anyone like her,” she told Angela.

“She said the same thing about you.”

Fallon smiled. “I wish she had come to me for help.”

“What would you have said? Honestly.”

“I would have been scared, and I would have been pissed,” Fallon admitted. “I would have helped her.”

“She knew you would help,” Angela offered.

“She also knew what it felt like to have her hero not only fall short, but fall epically. No matter what happened, you viewed her as the woman you met that night—the one who captured your imagination. Liv wouldn’t tell you because she didn’t want to be a damsel in need of rescue. She wanted to be the white knight.”

Fallon reached across the table and took Angela’s hand. “Think about what I said. I know you don’t believe me; you should talk to Barb. She’s one of the kindest people I know,” Fallon said. “I’m sorry about Liv. But for whatever it’s worth, I’m glad she had you.”

“Fallon, I don’t have the right to ask you for anything.”

Fallon’s brow furrowed.

“I’ll think about calling Barb. Do me one favor? Let go of your guilt about Liv. I can tell you she liked Riley.”

The hint of a smile curled the corners of Fallon’s mouth.

“And I know she was glad to see you happy. I doubt she told you that.”

“No,” Fallon said.

“Don’t let her past seep into your life, okay?

You don’t get time back. I think that’s something Liv struggled to accept.

She wanted to turn back the clock somehow.

She had everything going for her. A great job.

A family. Friends. Don’t get me wrong; she helped people.

She did. But she also hurt the people she loved the most in the process, and none of it gave her any peace.

The questions about our father were still there, unanswered.

None of us knows what Liv felt. I wish I could say I’ve accepted her choice, that I’ve stopped looking for answers.

I know there are no answers that will change the fact that she’s gone.

I’d rather remember the things I loved about her.

I wish she could have done that with our father.

Maybe she could have enjoyed her life, settled. ”

Angela’s words struck a deep chord within Fallon. Some people looked to find contentment—to settle. Others thrived on chaos. She’d debated for years over the reasons her relationship with Olivia had failed. Angela unknowingly summed it up with her simple observation.

“I don’t think Liv knew how to settle, ” Fallon offered. “She needed something to solve. Maybe that’s why she constantly sought people who were content to be still.”

“Like you and Barb.”

“And like you,” Fallon said. “Thank you.”

“I can’t imagine why you’d thank me.”

“She was lucky to have you, Angela. Liv had many people who loved her. She could never slow down long enough to let them.” Fallon smiled and pushed out of her chair. “We’ll talk again,” she said.

“Fallon?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Fallon nodded. Time to go home.