give a crap about business.
The girls are groaning over a two-mile walk and to make matters worse, I’m picking up the tail because Kay-Kay needs to be in a position where she bumps into Alex as often as possible. What the hell is she thinking? He’s twice her age.
Not that she’d let that stop her. And maybe I have to admit that part of me is jealous of her jumping in and going for what she wants because there’s no way I’ll do anything about Liam behind the bar. Too tattooed. To o smirky. Too… Irish. Okay. So, the Irish thing totally works in his favor. I’ve been there twice and didn’t want to leave both times.
A half-mile in, two girls are sure they’re going to collapse from exhaustion even though I know that if they were given a credit card at the entrance of the mall, they could probably go for five miles before crashing on a bench.
Part of bringing up the tail is taking girls back, so we turn around, and let the group continue on.
When I move past Irene’s office, I nearly run into Bill, the Little Minnow owner, and the guy who got me the job here my first year. He’s a good friend of my Uncle Tate, who understood my need to not be home during the summers—he understands the craziness of his sister who is my mom.
I’m pretty sure my parents are relieved because the older I get, the less patience I have. Mom and I are both all about organization, we just do it in opposite ways. It’s like having a neat freak live with someone who has OCD—you’d think they totally mesh, but they don’t. Not really.
Bill has the beer gut to match his job, and the biggest, friendliest smile anyone could own.
“Jody.” He squeezes me into him. “How’s my girl?”
I shrug. “Fine.”
He cocks a brow. “I saw that good-for-nothing Jeff last night.”
“Yeah. We split.” We. Ridiculous. I think Jeff decided I w as too much for him to handle. He didn’t use that word because he knows better, but it’s the distinct impression I got when he mentioned that we w ere “going different directions ” . I wasn’t aware we were going different directions. I was pretty sure we were moving toward matrimony and forever. But. We obviously weren’t. Or at least he wasn’t. I think Jeff and I would be happy. Actually, I thought we could be, but he’s handled all of this breakup stuff in such a juv enile way that I’m no longer sure.
“He’s an ass,” Bill says.
“He’s a good guy.” But even as the words come out, I start to wonder how true they are. Who dumps their girlfriend they claim to love for no real reason ?
“ Liam asked about you.” The beginnings of a grin twitch at the corners of his mouth.
“ Liam ?” My voice makes me sound like I don’t know exactly who he is. And that I maybe didn’t think about him as I fell asleep last night. And that I wasn’t planning on thinking about him as I fell asleep again tonight.
I know just by looking at him that Liam and I would definitely not get along, but I can’t remember having such a strong physical reaction to someone, and that’s a really happy way to fall asleep.
“You know, t he one all the girls are drooling over this year?” He gives me a nudge.
My cheeks flush, and I just hope that the heat’s hiding my embarrassment better than I think it is. I really hate this about myself. Every emotion crosses my face. And there are times when that’s a good thing—like when I want someone to know I’m pissed. And then there are times like this—when I’d rather no one know that I’m one of many who thinks the Irish guy looks pretty insanely incredibly gorgeous. Even if he’s not my type.
“Oh.” Which almost makes me laugh, because that was a whole lot of thinking to come up with one stupid word.
“He’s my nephew. My sister’s son. Had a rough year last year and wanted to do something else for a while.” His gruff voice is completely filled with kindness and maybe a little bit of pity, making me wonder what Liam
The girls are groaning over a two-mile walk and to make matters worse, I’m picking up the tail because Kay-Kay needs to be in a position where she bumps into Alex as often as possible. What the hell is she thinking? He’s twice her age.
Not that she’d let that stop her. And maybe I have to admit that part of me is jealous of her jumping in and going for what she wants because there’s no way I’ll do anything about Liam behind the bar. Too tattooed. To o smirky. Too… Irish. Okay. So, the Irish thing totally works in his favor. I’ve been there twice and didn’t want to leave both times.
A half-mile in, two girls are sure they’re going to collapse from exhaustion even though I know that if they were given a credit card at the entrance of the mall, they could probably go for five miles before crashing on a bench.
Part of bringing up the tail is taking girls back, so we turn around, and let the group continue on.
When I move past Irene’s office, I nearly run into Bill, the Little Minnow owner, and the guy who got me the job here my first year. He’s a good friend of my Uncle Tate, who understood my need to not be home during the summers—he understands the craziness of his sister who is my mom.
I’m pretty sure my parents are relieved because the older I get, the less patience I have. Mom and I are both all about organization, we just do it in opposite ways. It’s like having a neat freak live with someone who has OCD—you’d think they totally mesh, but they don’t. Not really.
Bill has the beer gut to match his job, and the biggest, friendliest smile anyone could own.
“Jody.” He squeezes me into him. “How’s my girl?”
I shrug. “Fine.”
He cocks a brow. “I saw that good-for-nothing Jeff last night.”
“Yeah. We split.” We. Ridiculous. I think Jeff decided I w as too much for him to handle. He didn’t use that word because he knows better, but it’s the distinct impression I got when he mentioned that we w ere “going different directions ” . I wasn’t aware we were going different directions. I was pretty sure we were moving toward matrimony and forever. But. We obviously weren’t. Or at least he wasn’t. I think Jeff and I would be happy. Actually, I thought we could be, but he’s handled all of this breakup stuff in such a juv enile way that I’m no longer sure.
“He’s an ass,” Bill says.
“He’s a good guy.” But even as the words come out, I start to wonder how true they are. Who dumps their girlfriend they claim to love for no real reason ?
“ Liam asked about you.” The beginnings of a grin twitch at the corners of his mouth.
“ Liam ?” My voice makes me sound like I don’t know exactly who he is. And that I maybe didn’t think about him as I fell asleep last night. And that I wasn’t planning on thinking about him as I fell asleep again tonight.
I know just by looking at him that Liam and I would definitely not get along, but I can’t remember having such a strong physical reaction to someone, and that’s a really happy way to fall asleep.
“You know, t he one all the girls are drooling over this year?” He gives me a nudge.
My cheeks flush, and I just hope that the heat’s hiding my embarrassment better than I think it is. I really hate this about myself. Every emotion crosses my face. And there are times when that’s a good thing—like when I want someone to know I’m pissed. And then there are times like this—when I’d rather no one know that I’m one of many who thinks the Irish guy looks pretty insanely incredibly gorgeous. Even if he’s not my type.
“Oh.” Which almost makes me laugh, because that was a whole lot of thinking to come up with one stupid word.
“He’s my nephew. My sister’s son. Had a rough year last year and wanted to do something else for a while.” His gruff voice is completely filled with kindness and maybe a little bit of pity, making me wonder what Liam
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