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A fter clearing away the breakfast mess, Billie Ann rolled her shoulders and made her way to the back, clipboard in hand.

She figured the inventory would be a disaster with half-empty shelves, missing supplies, and forgotten orders, but to her surprise, everything was stocked.

Fully and meticulously stocked. She let out a quiet breath, the corners of her mouth twitching with something between a smile and a sigh. Of course it was.

This bar had been Davey’s whole life. Every inch of it held his energy, his care. He’d kept it running like a tight ship, even when his body had started giving out. That was Davey through and through, loyal to the last breath, and too proud to let things fall apart, even for a second.

Some of the food had expired, like the typical perishables shoved to the back of the fridge, but she tossed those without hesitation.

It wasn’t a big deal. The regulars didn’t come for the food, anyway.

They came for stiff drinks, stronger stories, and the comfort of being surrounded by others who didn’t quite fit in anywhere else.

Truth be told, she could open tonight if she wanted to. The thought made her pause. Excitement fluttered low in her stomach, tangled with a thread of fear. Was she ready for that?

Her gaze drifted to the front of the bar, where Rafe sat alone in one of the booths, talking on the phone.

He hadn’t noticed her watching him, and she took the opportunity to really look at him.

His dark hair fell in loose waves around his face, his voice low and steady, even when she couldn’t hear the words.

There was something about him that unsettled her in the most unexpected way, as if he could see through all her walls without ever asking a single question.

Bruce had taken off not long ago after licking his plate clean of scrambled eggs. He’d muttered something about needing to get back to his Witch , then leapt gracefully from the booth and disappeared.

Billie Ann stood and looked around the bar again.

There wasn’t much left to do. Everything was in place, waiting.

She pulled her phone from her pocket and sent off two texts, one to Macy and the other to Frank, who had bartended here for as long as she could remember.

He hadn’t made it to Davey’s funeral, citing a family emergency, but he’d called her the same day.

His voice had cracked when he told her how sorry he was.

When she told him she now owned the bar and asked if he still wanted to work, his answer had been immediate and certain: Yes.

She hoped he meant it. She needed someone who knew the rhythm of this place—someone who felt like part of its bones.

Then, with a sigh, she stared down at her phone again, thumb hovering over a number she didn’t want to call. Brian Norris. Her boss back in Lexington. She was due back at the office tomorrow, but there was no chance in hell she’d be making that drive. Not now. Maybe not ever.

Brian was handsome. There was no denying that.

Sharp jaw, expensive suits, and a polished, confident charm that worked on just about everyone.

But not her. He wasn't her type, not even close. Where others saw charisma, she saw control. He owned a chain of real estate offices, including the one where she’d been working, trying to get her footing in a career she never expected to fall in love with.

Thorne had changed that.

He’d been the one who first got her interested in real estate, years ago, back when she’d still been figuring herself out.

He’d taken her to open houses, let her shadow him on small flips, and taught her the thrill of finding possibility in forgotten places.

She’d loved it. But not just the homes, it was the people, the stories, and the second chances built into every closing deal that she enjoyed the most. It was something she could build a life on.

But Brian had ruined that, piece by piece.

Ever since she’d turned him down, because no, she wasn’t interested in dating her boss, no matter how many times he asked, he’d made her life at the office unbearable.

Petty power plays, late assignments, and withholding opportunities she’d earned.

All of it with that smug, fake-friendly smile.

Just enough to make her miserable without giving her grounds to quit and collect unemployment.

Now, standing in Davey’s bar. Her bar. The thought of going back to that job felt like trying to force herself into a life that no longer fit. Here, surrounded by wood and whiskey and the echoes of someone she loved, she felt closer to herself than she had in a long time.

Maybe real estate wasn’t out of the picture. Maybe it just looked different now. And maybe, just maybe, this old bar was more than a place to pour drinks. It could be the foundation of something new.

Something uniquely hers.

Billie Ann stepped out the back door of the bar like she was stepping into a storm. The heat pressed against her skin, but it did nothing to calm the cold knot twisting in her chest. Her fingers trembled as she scrolled to his name.

Brian Norris.

Her soon-to-be former boss. The man who’d made every day at work feel like a chess match she was destined to lose unless she played by his rules. She hadn’t played. And now, it was time to make that official.

She hit call, clicking her speaker.

One ring.

Two.

“Annie,” he answered smoothly, her name dragging out like silk over sandpaper. He refused to call her Billie Ann or Billie. Said her name was unprofessional. “I hope you’re not calling asking for more days. I have appointments set up for you starting tomorrow.”

“It’s Billie Ann.” Her jaw clenched, hating being called anything other than her true name.

Brian sighed long and loud. “Now, Annie...we’ve talked about this. Your business cards and letterheads have already been printed. It’s best you get used to Annie because as long as you work here, that’s not going to change.”

“I’m not coming back, Brian.” Billie Ann’s voice turned hard. She was so sick and tired of having to suck up to this asshole.

“Excuse me?” Brian’s voice lowered to a hiss.

“I’m staying here,” she said, forcing steel into her voice. “I inherited the bar, and I’ve decided to run it. So yeah, this is my quitting call.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

“You’re not fucking serious.” The anger behind those words came loud and clear over the phone.

“I am,” Billie said and even nodded, though he couldn’t see her.

Another pause. When he spoke again, all charm was gone from his tone, replaced with that sharp edge she’d come to dread. “You’re giving up a career in real estate for a rundown bar in the middle of nowhere, Virginia?”

Her throat burned. “It’s not just a bar. It’s mine. And it meant everything to Davey.”

Brian laughed, but it was bitter now. Ugly. “This is about your dead stepdad? You’re going to throw away everything because your drunken stepdaddy left you his wasted dream. What about what we built, Annie?”

“We didn’t build anything, Brian,” she said, her voice tight, ignoring the fact that he called her Annie again. “ I worked for everything I earned. You only helped when it made you look good. And when I didn’t want you, turned you down over and over again, you made sure I paid for it.”

“Bullshit,” he snapped. “You wanted me, and everyone knew it. You wore those skirts...led me on like some goddamn tease?—”

“Don’t,” she hissed, her voice cracking. “Don’t you dare try to turn this around on me.”

“You’ll regret this, Annie,” he said, venom curling around every word. “You’ll call me in a week, maybe two. You’ll be begging for your job back. And I’ll be there. Waiting.”

She swallowed hard. “I’d rather scrub toilets in this bar...my bar...for the rest of my life than ever work for you again.” She growled, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “And my stepfather was more of a man than you will ever be, asshole. And my fucking name is Billie Ann!”

She hung up.

Her whole body trembled as she lowered the phone, her chest heaving, her eyes burning with unshed fury and too many years of silence.

Behind her, the screen door creaked again.

She turned to find Rafe standing in the doorway, one shoulder braced against the frame, arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t speak right away, just watched her with a look she couldn’t quite read.

“How much of that did you hear?” she asked quietly, her cheeks heating with embarrassment.

“Enough,” he said, his voice low, rough. Rafe stepped forward, the screen door groaning as it swung shut behind him. “Your boss, I take it?”

“Ex-boss.” Billie Ann snorted with a shrug.

“Ex anything else?” Rafe cocked an eyebrow at her.

“He wishes,” She frowned, then shook her head. “We never dated; he tried, but something was off with him. I did my job and went home. Plus, someone who changes my name is a big red flag.” She snorted in disgust.

“He sounds like the kind of guy who gets turned on by his own reflection,” Rafe muttered. “I bet he flexes when he walks past windows.”

A startled laugh burst out of her then, quick and unexpected. She slapped a hand over her mouth. “God, don’t make me laugh right now. I want to stay pissed.”

“Why not? That prick doesn’t get to be the last voice in your head today.” Rafe replied with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“He said I’d come crawling back for my job. There were so many times I wanted to quit, but it was a great job...just a lunatic boss.” Her smile faltered, just a little as she looked at the bar. “I can’t fail.”

“Yeah, well, he also sounds like the kind of guy who thinks ‘no’ is just a challenge and ‘independent woman’ is a personal insult. So, excuse me if I don’t put much stock in his prophetic vision.

” Rafe stepped in closer, his expression shifting into something fierce, like fire behind his eyes. “You won’t fail.”

She blinked, heart tightening at the way he said it, like he meant it.

Rafe’s voice dropped, softer now, without losing that rough edge. “Good job or not, you don’t owe him anything. Not your time. Not your talent. And sure as hell not your body or your loyalty. That man wanted a trophy, not a partner. You made the right call walking away.”

Billie Ann’s chest ached in that way it did when you realized how long you'd been holding your breath. She looked up at him, really looked, and for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel small under a man’s gaze. She felt… seen.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Rafe gave her a nod, then frowned. “What is the chance of him coming here?”

She looked confused. “Who? Brian?” She asked, then shook her head when he just stared at her. “Why would he come here?”

“For you,” Rafe replied without hesitation.

Billie Ann actually laughed at that. “Zero chance.” She replied, then shrugged.

“He will find someone to replace me, probably by Monday.” When Rafe just cocked his eyebrow at her she cleared her throat not knowing what else to say.

She knew there was no way Brian would show up here for her. His ego wouldn’t allow that.