My heart slammed so hard I thought it was going to launch itself out of my chest. Sweat slickened my palms as my body froze to the spot.
Then just like that, the blond turned to smile at the bartender.
It wasn’t Andie.
Of course it wasn’t.
How could it be?
Tears pricked my eyes and I stubbornly shoved them back as I marched up to the bar and slid into a stool.
“I’m going to need to see some ID.” The middle-aged bartender smiled kindly at me. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and he looked like he could handle himself. He also looked like he wasn’t born yesterday. Thank God I was twenty-one now.
I gave him my ID and he slid it back to me. “What can I get you?”
I glanced down the bar at the woman I’d mistaken for my sister. “I’ll have a scotch on the rocks.”
He seemed bemused by my choice but didn’t question it. “Any brand in particular?”
“Surprise me,” I muttered.
He grinned and set about making my drink.
After a half hour of nursing it, the bartender approached. Sensing him hovering, I looked up.
He shrugged. “Sorry, I’ve got to ask.”
“Ask what?” I sipped at the last of my drink.
“Why a pretty twenty-one-year-old is drinking scotch in my bar while looking like the world just ended.”
I stared at this curious stranger, this person who had no ties to me, no previous dealings with me, and thus no understanding or expectations of me, either. And I found myself replying, “I miss my sister.”
His eyes softened and he leaned on the bar. “That’s rough.”
“Have you got family?”
“Two brothers in Colorado. They got wives and a whole bunch of kids. I don’t see them much.”
“Do you miss them?”
“Sure, I do.”
“You should really visit them while you can,” I offered sagely.
His grin was sad. “We had a falling-out a couple of years back. Things haven’t been the same since.”
Emotion clogged my throat. I took my time choking it down. “You’d think that would be all the more reason, but sometimes it’s like you get frozen, like you can’t move or make a decision either way. Is that how you feel?”
He nodded, eyes filled with understanding. “Yeah, that’s how I feel.”
“Do you think you’ll ever get past it?”
“I expect I might. One day.”
“What do you think will make you do it? Make you go see them?” I desperately wanted to know.
“I don’t know.” He stood up, contemplating me. “Maybe a sad, pretty girl telling me I should do it while I still can might do the trick.”