Harper didn’t know what had come over her when she’d seen Charlie looking at her. It must have been something Andrew had said getting planted in her head. She didn’t want a relationship. She didn’t want anything from life other than what she had. She wanted to see her and Kelly’s retirement dreams become a success. She wanted to honor Kelly’s memory. And beyond that… Meh.
After class, Charlie took another circuitous bike ride home. It took her several miles out of the way, but winding her wayaround the island was beautiful and serene and allowed her time to think. So of course, her mind wandered to the odd interaction between her and Harper that morning.
She hadn’t wanted to come home to a festering clogged sink and had been hoping to find Harper being cute and dancing while she did her morning inventory, like she had before. What she hadn’t been expecting was how sexy Harper was going to be when she grabbed her toolbox and competently fixed the sink. Nor how fucking hot it was going to be when she flipped her Scissor and Gavel baseball hat around. She’d always loved the sporty lesbian look, and when Harper had flipped the hat, it was like she’d gone from Lois Lane to Super Fix-it Lesbian, and Charlie hadn’t recovered. Still.
She hadn’t realized she’d been staring until Harper had started coughing. And Franky’s well-timed arrival. That moment had become way too heavy. She certainly was in no place to consider dating with the messy state of her life, and Harper’s every action and mannerism seemed to scream that she was simply a flirty bartender.
And why had Harper lied about being on the phone? Charlie was certain she had been on a call with someone named Andrew. She must have thought Charlie hadn’t been able to hear her talking before she’d come in the room. As she’d hung up, Charlie heard him talking about someone Harper had once loved.
Was her curiosity piqued?
Yes, but she needed to shut that down.
She had absolutely no intention of staying in Key West long-term. Key West was like the waiting room of her life while she figured out what exactly she was waiting for. She needed to figure out how to apologize and repair things with her parents, and once she’d done that, she was pretty sure her time in Florida was going to be done. Although beautiful, Key West was too damn hot.
Yet, after she got home and took a shower, her stomachwasgrumbling. And she was tired. She didn’t feel like cooking, nor did she feel like dragging herself somewhere else to eat dinner. So it only made sense to go downstairs and have one of Harper’s fantastic cocktails while enjoying some tacos. Likely it would be faster and easier than any other option. Plus, based on the quality of Harper’s drinks, she was pretty sure she wouldn’t partner with a food truck if they weren’t fantastic.
As dusk was approaching, she found herself sitting in her favorite seat at the bar, pretending to peruse the cocktail menu while actually staring at Harper. She watched the recognition roll across Harper’s face when her eyes passed her, then came back and connected just for a brief moment before shaking herself and turning away to grab a glass.
“Hey, stranger,” Harper said as she set a glass of water with no ice on the bar in front of her. “Long time no see. What can I get you?” But Harper’s face had changed to the impersonal bartender persona, and it was her bartender smile that greeted Charlie. It felt like Harper had thrown the cold water on her rather than giving it to her in the glass.
Charlie had an irresistible desire to break through the facade and find the real smile. The real Harper that she sometimes got a glimpse of. Like when Harper had offered to let her borrow a towel until she could buy one. And the smile she’d had when she’d shimmied out from under the sink that morning before things had gotten weird. But Charlie wasn’t sure how to make it happen. “How about the drink you made for me the first day I came in? What was it called? With the cherries? It was delicious.”
“The smash? Of course. Though the cherries are running a little sweeter now. I’ll adjust the simple syrup, unless you want it a little sweeter?” Harper was already grabbing bottles before Charlie had even processed her words.
“The same sweetness would be great thanks.” Harper started to move down the bar, but Charlie couldn’t stand the thought of just getting bartender Harper, so she said, “How’s Franky doing today?” And there came the real smile she’d been hoping to find.
“She’s good. She’s been on a high ever since she got to see you this morning.” The flex of her forearm muscles was sexier than it had a right to be as she shook the cocktail shaker over her left shoulder.
“She had the same effect on me. She’s always so sweet.”
“Ididn’t brighten your day too?” Harper poured the cocktail over the crushed ice in a lowball glass.
Caught off guard at the surprisingly overt flirting, she said, “You were definitely part of it too.”
“Good. I would hate to think that me saving you from a clogged sink didn’t brighten your day.” She winked.
Jesus.
The bar got busier after that, and Harper’s bartender persona slipped back into place for the rest of the evening. Charlie decided on a cheese and poblano quesadilla that was delicious—as promised—and finished her drink before heading upstairs.
Since her disastrous first night in Key West, Charlie hadn’t had more than one or two drinks. She’d been in a dark place, and although she’d been trying to climb out of it, she was afraid that more than a drink or two would be a slippery slope back into it and the world she’d desperately been trying to leave behind.
She looked at her phone and pulled up the handful of contacts she’d created. She pressed the message button for her mom and stared at the white screen with no historic texts. It was a new phone and a new account, but even if it had been her old phone, when would the last text have been? Christmas?
Probably, though it would have been a sad,Merry Christmas, and a response of,Merry Christmas to you too! We love you!The guilt pulled at her, and she tried to typesomething, anything, to her parents but wasn’t sure where to start. How to start. How had she stepped so far back from her own parents?
She couldn’t do it. Still. And hated herself for it.
Chapter Seven
“Are you a vegetarian?” Harper said and pursed her lips as she poured Charlie another drink.
Charlie squinted and let out an accidental hum before she answered. She hadn’t been a vegetarian, but things were changing in a lot of ways, apparently even subconsciously. “I haven’t considered myself one. When I lived in New York, I wasn’t at all. But I’ve found myself moving away from meat, I guess. It wasn’t a conscious change, really. Why?”
Harper smiled, a real smile that melted Charlie a little. Though real smileswerebecoming the norm since Charlie had started frequenting the bar more regularly, especially when there was a food truck. She always sat at the bar rather than a table and chatted with Harper as she nibbled on a grilled cheese with a little cheese fried into the bread or a pulled-jackfruit sandwich from the barbecue truck. Not about anything deep or thought-provoking but just getting to know each other. Mostly superficially, but occasionally, they went a little deeper.
“Just curious. I noticed you never get anything with meat.” She pointed her chin at the truck outside. “Most people get their mac and cheese with a pile of barbecued meat or bacon on it, but you seem to have spinach and peas in yours. Can I ask why you’ve been moving away from meat, especially if it was unintentional?”