Page 12 of The Ex Next Door (Charming, Texas #8)

T he Salty Dog Bar & Grill was a throwback to Amy’s college days, and she fell right into step after her first day of training.

Debbie, who’d been with the Salty Dog back when it was under its previous ownership, was a great help.

As it turned out, she was also a single mom and had been able to support herself and her two kids for years.

Encouraging, even if Amy didn’t see this as a permanent stop.

One of the owners, Adam Cruz, had given her an interview, which as Declan had said seemed to be mostly out of formality.

She’d filled out a bunch of forms and walked out of the bar with the job.

When Rob made his weekly check-in call to the kids, she’d told him of her plans.

“Really? Waitressing at your age?” Rob snorted.

“Until my teaching credentials come through and I can find a position in the district. What did you expect? It’s not like I have any experience working outside of the home.”

“I thought you’d be able to find something better than waitressing .”

It was Rob’s attitude about her efforts more than anything that made Amy say her next words.

“I was hired on the spot. Declan Sheridan got me the job.”

When they’d split, Rob swore there was no one else. It was immature and childish, but she didn’t know whether Rob was already dating someone new. She and Declan weren’t dating, and never would be, but Rob didn’t have to know that.

“Your ex? Quite a blast from the past.”

Rob sounded unconcerned but what did she expect? He’d only be jealous if he still had any feelings left for her. She was silly to play these games with her ex-husband and resolved not to do this again. They were both going to have to move on and be adults about this.

“He’s been a good friend to me.”

“Well, I agree it can’t hurt to have him help coach David. He’s got to be good for something, right?” Rob chuckled, as if this was their private little joke. “But I’ll be doing most of the coaching, of course.”

“Of course.” Amy snorted that time. One good snort deserved another. “But naturally, Declan is a gifted athlete so it’s a great opportunity for David.”

“This is just for fun. We don’t need Declan Sheridan to train our son for the majors.”

“He’s not.” Amy heard herself defending him. “All he wants is for David to have fun and learn to excel at a sport. That will give him confidence, which will spill over into everything else in his life.”

She bit back Declan’s other less-than-charitable comments about soccer or any other sport besides baseball.

In the end, Amy found waitressing not that different from mothering with the marked difference of being on her feet far longer. Also, her customers weren’t adorable and darling children she’d birthed but demanding adults who didn’t like waiting a second too long.

The restaurant was set up so that there was a bar area with some seating and a limited food menu, split from a full-service grill. She worked as a cocktail waitress for the bar side of the restaurant, and on weekends, according to Debbie, they were slammed. Good for tips, not so good for her feet.

“Here we go.” Amy settled four drafts on a table.

“Finally!” one of them said. “I was about to die of thirst. Next time I’ll order something simpler than a beer .”

How sweet. He sounded like her nine-year-old son.

Amy smiled, thinking, You overgrown child. Go home to Mommy now.

If he ordered a sandwich, she might be tempted to cut it into triangles for him.

“Y’all just holler if you need me.” She took her tray and was headed back to the station when a couple of women flagged her down. “What can I get for you?”

“Diet soda for me,” a beautiful blonde said and then held out her hand. “I’m Samantha. You and I have a lot in common.”

“Really?” Amy smiled, taking her hand.

She could use some friends. These two women appeared to be out for a girls’ night.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been out with the girls.

It was possibly for Bianca’s thirtieth birthday party in which Rob behaved as though he should receive a commendation for watching his own children the entire evening so Amy could join her friends for a few precious hours.

But those types of girlfriend celebrations didn’t happen often anymore. She missed them.

“Declan told me he got you the job. I know you were his first girlfriend, and I’m his latest.” She smiled. “Well, and possibly his last.”

“If he shapes up,” the equally gorgeous woman across from Samantha said. “I’m not sure he deserves you.”

This must be the girlfriend Declan had mentioned who didn’t trust him like Amy always had. She wanted to help Declan the way he’d helped her.

“You are so lucky,” Amy said. “Declan is a great guy. He cares so much and he helps everyone. When I moved in next door, he carried in our heaviest boxes. He—”

“You live next door ?” Samantha said. “He didn’t mention that.”

“Yes, my children and I are renting the house. It’s…my mother found it…”

“What about your husband?”

“I’m divorced,” Amy said, bringing her tray up to her chest like a shield.

Samantha’s friend’s eyebrow quirked up and her mouth pursed.

With that reaction, you would have thought Amy had said, “Declan has a really nice ass.” This had all gone sideways on her somewhere along the way.

Maybe they thought of her as some wanton divorcee, plying single men to her house to help unclog sinks and maybe get a little action on the side.

Please. Her? She could barely spell divorcee .

She should have never tried to help Declan and just stayed in her own lane!

“I’ll go get your drinks.” Amy rushed off.

The rest of the night passed in a blur, and she didn’t have any further interaction with Samantha when a couple of seats were vacated near the bar and they joined Declan, who was working a shift tonight, too. He was so busy Amy found herself waiting at the bar station to place her orders.

“What can I get ya?” Declan finally got to her.

“A mojito, a Tequila shot and a draft beer,” Amy said.

“Got it.”

She waited while Declan made the drinks, wondering how and when she’d mention her faux pas with his girlfriend.

She didn’t want him to be caught unaware just in case he wanted to preemptively tell Samantha so it wouldn’t appear he’d been hiding anything.

At the same time, Amy realized she was getting a bit too involved in this matter, but she couldn’t help it.

Misunderstandings often led to breakups when couples didn’t talk.

Amy waited for her drinks while stealing occasional glances at Samantha, who at least didn’t seem to be upset. She’d probably just been surprised, but c’mon, Amy was zero threat to someone who looked like Samantha . In fact, she seemed to be fending off advances from both left and right.

“Declan,” Amy said, and he leaned in. He did that a lot due to the level of noise in the bar. “I’m sorry, but I may have misspoken. I accidentally told Samantha I live next door and she seemed a little surprised you didn’t tell her. I don’t want to get you in any trouble.”

Declan simply shook his head and waved it away. “No problem.”

Classic Declan. His attitude had always been rather cavalier, which had been part of the problem.

Declan never really seemed to be invested in anyone or anything besides baseball.

Amy shook the idea out of her mind and worked hard the rest of the night, getting some great tips from a mommy and me group when a mother recognized her from school pickup.

She caught Samantha and her friend leaving, she blowing a kiss at Declan, he smiling. So, they must have resolved everything. Again, classic Declan. There wasn’t much he couldn’t smooth over with those dimples.

At the end of the evening, Debbie joined Amy. “You did good tonight. Are your dogs barkin’?”

“If that means my feet are killing me, then yes.” Amy leaned against the bar and took her weight off one of them.

“Have a seat. Before we leave, Declan always rallies the troops.”

“Rallies the troops?” Amy wrinkled her nose.

“Basically we sit and chat, have a soda, and he’ll buoy our spirits after a rough night. He’s kind of inspirational, actually.” Debbie grabbed a stool and encouraged Amy to sit.

She would make excuses to run home for the babysitter, but her mom was her sitter, and already spending the night. Instead, Amy texted her so she wouldn’t worry about her being a few minutes late.

“Hey, ladies.” Declan carried with him a tray of their sample platter of onion rings, potato skins and jalapeno poppers and set it in front of them. “Compliments of the chef. How was your night?”

“I had a pretentious jackass who had me running back and forth because his steak wasn’t cooked to perfection,” Debbie said. “It was fine! You want to know how much he tipped me? The worst tip of my night!” She took an onion ring and bit into it.

Debbie worked both sides of the bar and grill, and she didn’t stop complaining for ten whole minutes. Compared with her, Amy had a great night.

Declan listened patiently, while he poured Debbie soda into an iced tumbler.

“Some people will never appreciate your true worth,” he said. “But I do.”

“Sugar, you’re the only reason I’m still workin’ here. I’m too old for this stink.”

“I bet Amy was a huge help.” Declan winked.

A wink like that on another woman would probably cause a heart convulsion. Fortunately, Amy was relatively immune to Declan. Relatively being the operative word.

“I don’t know how I survived without her an entire month!” Debbie leaned in and gave Amy a sideways hug. “Thank you for finding this gem.”

He faced Amy, spreading his arms out on the bar. “How about you? You got any complaints?”

She didn’t, not really, but wanted to participate. “I guess I’m not fast enough for some people.”

“You know, you’d think people would realize they can get a cold beer in half the time from their own damn fridge. Going out is supposed to be a social occasion, not a sprint,” Debbie said. “What else?”

“Um, well.” Amy drummed her fingers on the bar. “My feet hurt.”

Debbie elbowed Declan. “Ah, to be young again. She’s not likely to get many complaints. Such a pretty girl.”

“Aw, thank you.”

Amy self-consciously pulled on her work tee. She’d been worried it was a bit too tight around the boobage area but didn’t think it would hurt with tips.

“Yeah, this has always been her problem.” Declan slid her a slow smile. “Always the prettiest girl in the room. Nothing’s changed.”

A warm rush of something resembling excitement went through Amy. She shouldn’t be so affected by his compliment, but it had been such a long while since she’d felt attractive.

Debbie turned to Declan. “What have you got for me tonight? I could use some inspiration.”

“All right. You know what I was thinking? I realized how important we are to the people who come here every night. How important you are.” He pointed to both Amy and Debbie.

“Tonight, a guy told me that his wife left him two weeks ago and coming here is all he looks forward to. He knows there’s going to be a kind word and a cold beer when he gets here.

And Debbie’s right, it’s not about how fast the drink or food gets to them.

It’s about the social interaction. Con nections.

We can’t forget that part of why we’re here. You are very important.”

By the time Amy floated outside, she was fairly certain both she and Debbie felt like the Mother Teresa of the service food industry.

“What a gift,” Debbie said and waved as she got in her sedan. “I stopped having to go to counseling when Declan started working here.”

And to think Amy had briefly wondered why Declan had chosen to go into bartending when he had a college degree and had briefly taught math at a high school in Houston.

You might be able to take the player out of the game, but you couldn’t take the game out of the player.

Declan Sheridan was a born coach, whether he realized it or not.