the doors and let her in. I heard Cash call Gavin, the part-time manager, and tell him not to worry about opening up, that he'd be in.
Holy crap! I didn't even think about that!
As Cash drives past her car and around the building to his garage, I see her eyes follow us. Even through the tinted face shield of the helmet, I can feel the sharp tips of the daggers she's throwing my way. I assume that this will bring an abrupt and likely ugly end to our truce.
Dammit.
The garage door opens with the push of a button on Cash's bike and he guides us inside and cuts the engine. I hop off quickly, hoping Taryn doesn't come around and make a big scene.
"I'd better get in and get to work," I say, handing Cash my helmet. Slowly, he reaches out to take it from my hand, eyeing me suspiciously. After several uncomfortable seconds, just when I think he's going to make an issue of keeping our relationship (whatever it might actually be) from the others, he nods. I give him a quick smile and dart into the apartment, through the office and out into the bar itself, stowing my purse safely behind the counter.
I waste no time getting to work, uncapping liquor bottles, making sure the coolers are stocked and then setting about to start slicing lemons, limes and oranges. I see Cash cross the room to unlock the doors, but rather than going back to his office, he goes outside. It's a good fifteen minutes before he comes back in. And the thing that irks me most? About sixty seconds after he comes in, Taryn finally makes her appearance.
And she's smiling.
Broadly.
Now what the hell does that mean?
The lump of nausea in the pit of my stomach tells me it means nothing good. At least not for me.
I blink away the tears that sting my eyes. How could I be so wrong? Again! It felt so right. I was so close.
Taryn starts to whistle as she gets her station set up. Whistle, for God's sake! Call me crazy, but I think she's gloating. Can whistling sound like gloating? Um, I'm pretty sure it can. And I'm pretty sure this does.
I grit my teeth and ignore her as best I can. I'm thankful when Cash turns on the music and it drowns out her obnoxious happiness. With a ruthlessness that feels like it's directly linked to my survival, I put every ounce of my focus into work. I can't stand to be inside my own head for one more second.
CHAPTER EIGHT - Cash
I get up and walk to the bookcase across from my desk for the third time. I've left my office door cracked so I can make sure Taryn is behaving herself.
When I went outside after unlocking the front doors, it was with the intention of admitting Olivia and I are seeing each other and then giving Taryn an ultimatum. I didn't want her coming in and giving Olivia a hard time. But I think I underestimated just how big a role Taryn's ego would play. She beat me to the punch on being the first to speak and, in the process, gave me the perfect out. Olivia's secret is still safe.
"That girl really needs a new car," she said cheerfully, glancing back at Olivia's car as she walked across the parking lot toward me.
"She can't afford one right now. And you don't need to be giving her shit. That girl's having it pretty rough. I feel sorry for her and if you knew what all was going on in her life and with her family, you would, too. So do us all a favor and keep the claws in, okay?"
She stopped in front of me. Looking hard into my face, she stared for at least a minute or two before she said anything. Even now, I wonder if she was looking for the truth. And what she ended up finding.
Whatever it was, she never let on that she didn't believe me. She laughed and shook her head. "So what was it this time?"
"Spark plugs, I think."
"I guess I could start giving her a ride, since we'll be working the same shift for a while."
"Yeah, 'cause that wouldn't make her feel worse or anything," I