Southern Secrets (Southern #7) - Natasha Madison Page 0,14

goes soft. "I have to go, Mom. How about we have lunch this week?"

"I’ll call you tomorrow," she says. "Love you, baby girl."

"Love you, too, Mom." I hang up the phone and look around the empty parking lot.

I’m surprised since Dolly is supposed to be here already. I grab my phone and see that I don’t have any messages from her. I get out of the truck and walk toward the entrance. The brown door has the name The Hideout painted blue on it. Unlocking the door with the keys I grabbed from my purse, I walk in and hear the alarm start to buzz. I punch in the code and look around.

It’s exactly how I left it Saturday night when I left. One thing I did when I took over was close on Sunday. I made some small changes like adding a sports station with big screens so people can come in and watch the games. I have it totally closed off with its own bar and tables so it blocks the music.

I moved the bar from the wall to the center of the room in a big U. I made more barstools available, and I got me another bartender in, so the drinks flew out faster, which means they came back faster. I moved the dance floor all the way to the back of the house with a bigger stage for live music on Friday and Saturday nights.

I turn on the lights and walk toward the back office, my phone ringing. I pull it out of my back pocket and see Dolly’s name.

"Hello," I say, walking into the little office. It has a desk and two chairs, the top of the desk totally organized.

"Amelia." I hear Dolly groaning, then coughing. "I’ve been up for the past two days. I have a fever and a terrible cough."

"Oh no, have you seen a doctor?" I ask, putting my purse in one of the chairs.

"I have an appointment tomorrow. I was hoping that I could pop some ibuprofen, but I just can’t."

"No, of course not. Don’t worry about it," I say, closing my eyes and worrying about it. "We’ll be fine."

"I’m so sorry," she says and coughs again.

"It’s perfect, okay? Get better and let me know what the doctor says." I hang up the phone and walk out, calling my other waitress, who doesn’t answer.

The door opens, and I look up to see Jill walking in. "Happy Monday," she says, all chipper, and then she sees my face. "Why do you not look happy?"

"Dolly is sick," I say, and she stares at me. "It’s just you and me, sugar," I say, and she rolls her eyes.

"Are there any big games tonight?" she asks, and I nod my head.

"We have two baseball games," I say, and she puts on a brave smile.

"It’ll be fine. People can wait five more seconds for drinks," she says. "It’s going to be fine."

"You know my rule," I say. "No one waits for a drink."

"Well, today they do, and you’ll see that the world is not going to end," Jill says, walking into the sports area. "I’ll take this bar. You take that bar, and people can come see us for drinks."

I close my eyes and try not to let it get to me. I walk to the bar and start setting it up. I know that if I call Chelsea, she would come in and help me, but I also know she didn’t sleep last night and worked all day at the clinic.

I make sure I’m all set up, and we all have enough ice. I’m about to go and grab a couple of bottles from the back when the front door opens, and the construction guys start to pile in. They usually come here every Monday and Friday to start and end the week.

"Howdy," I say to them as they walk in. Their shirts are dirty from working all day.

"Hey, Amelia," one of them says as they fill the stools at the bar.

"Where is Dolly?" another one asks me.

"She’s sick," I tell them as I start filling drink orders. I work my way down the bar and look up, shocked to see more people than usual on a Monday night.

I see about ten guys come in and go straight into the sports room. I try to peek in to see if Jill needs help, but someone else comes to the bar to order.

I spot a couple of people come in and go straight to the