A Life With No Regrets - Sarra Cannon Page 0,27

know you,” I say. I pour his drink, but I’m trying to put my finger on where I’ve seen him before.

He smiles. “Owen in the Mornings,” he says, naming the local radio station’s popular morning show. “I’m Owen.”

He reaches across the bar and we shake hands.

“Owen, that’s right,” I say. “Drinks on the house for a local celebrity. Thanks for coming in tonight.”

“I appreciate that,” he says. “What you guys are getting started here is really something special. It’s good for Fairhope.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“And so are you,” he says.

I glance up, trying to figure out if he’s hitting on me or what. I have had my fair share of invitations at this bar, but this would be the first time it was coming from a guy.

“Um, thanks,” I say.

He laughs. “I mean that you’ve really got a stage presence,” he says. “I had a friend in the crowd last week who told me I should come check you out, and I’m glad I did. You’ve got the right kind of voice and personality.”

“I’m confused, but flattered,” I say.

He pulls a card from his wallet and pushes it across the bar. “My sidekick, Scottie, is leaving the show in six months, and I’ve got to find a good replacement,” he says. “I’m inviting DJ’s from all over to come in and audition, but I would love to have a hometown voice on the show.”

I pick up the card and stare at it, not really sure I heard him right.

“You want me to audition for your radio show?”

“Yes, sir. I think you would be a natural for radio.”

I slowly shake my head and put the card back down on the bar. “I’m more of a sleeping-in kind of guy,” I say. “But I appreciate the thought.”

“Think about it,” he says. He picks up his drink and starts to move away. “I think you’re exactly what I’ve been looking for.”

I nod and pick up the card again. Me on the radio?

There’s a nervous knot in my stomach just thinking about it. A job like that could be fun, but it would be a lot of responsibility, having to get up crazy early in the morning and perform for people every day. I’m not sure I’m cut out for it.

“What’s that?” Jo asks. She presses her arm against mine as she leans in to get a closer look.

“Nothing,” I say, tossing the card into the trash.

But as I stare after the radio guy, I realize this is the first time in my life someone thought I was better than nothing. It’s the first time I actually felt like something.

Chapter Thirteen

“Goodnight Slim,” I say, standing on my tiptoes to hug him one last time. “Thanks again for tonight.”

“Anytime, Miss Jo,” he says. “It was fun.”

“Might be an even bigger crowd next week, so I hope you’re ready.”

“I can handle it.” He smiles and makes his way out to his car.

I close and lock the door behind him, collapsing against it with a sigh of relief.

“We did it,” I shout. “Another successful Saturday night in the books.”

“Have you looked at this tip jar?” Colton says, whistling.

“As good as last week?”

“Better than good,” he says.

I’m exhausted, but giddy. A year and a half ago we were scared we were going to have to close the doors on this old place, so to be booming is a dream come true.

“We need a drink to celebrate,” I say.

Colton raises an eyebrow. “Before we even count the money and clean up?” He glances around. “Who are you and what have you done with Jo?”

“Haha, very funny,” I say, sitting down at one of the barstools across from him. “I know I can be tough sometimes, but I think we both deserve a break tonight, don’t you? We’ll get this place cleaned up before we go home. I’ll come over tomorrow on my day off and finish up if I have to.”

“Scotch?” he asks.

“Not tonight. Tonight I want a Corona with a lime,” I say. “And a shot of tequila. The good stuff.”

He pretends to stumble backward, clutching his chest. “Oh my God, a woman after my own heart,” he says. “You are not playing around, are you?”

I laugh. “I’m happy and tired and I’m not going to let anything ruin it tonight,” I say. “Not even me.”

He opens the Corona and pulls a fresh lime from the cooler, taking his sweet time cutting it up before he squeezes one slice into the top of my beer. He sets up

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