Southern Secrets (Southern #7) - Natasha Madison Page 0,23

on Tuesday," I say, and she nods her head, as she wipes down the bar where the guys left. I look over seeing that it’s almost nine o’clock and the bar is empty.

"Why do you do it?" I finally ask her the question I’ve been thinking about all day. My thumb is hitting the top of the wooden bar.

"Why do I do what?" she asks, looking at me.

"Work the two jobs." She looks at me.

"Well, for one, I have bills," she says. "And I’m paying my aunt monthly to own this."

"You bought the bar?" I ask, shocked when she nods her head. "Yeah."

"I knew you were independent and hard-working," I say, and she looks at me. "But I had no idea that you were working to buy the bar."

"Yeah," she says, and I know she is hiding something. I can feel it. "She wanted to just give me the bar," she says as Jill comes out of the sports section.

"Hey, it’s all done. Do you think I can clock out?" she asks Amelia, who nods her head.

"I’m going to close up, too." She looks at the clock on the wall. "See you Thursday," she says, and Jill turns to walk out of the place. I get off the stool and walk around the bar.

"What are you doing?" she asks, shocked.

"Well, it’ll go faster if we both do this," I say as I grab the dirty glasses.

"First breakfast and now this." She smirks at me. "You don’t have to keep doing this to stay with me." My eyebrows pinch together. "All you have to do is pick up after yourself." She turns around and walks toward the office, leaving me with my mouth hanging open.

Chapter 10

Amelia

Why the fuck did you just invite him to come over again? I yell at myself when I walk into the office. I place the money in the safe and turn back to walk out. It takes us ten minutes to close everything since tonight was abnormally quieter than usual. "Thank you," I say when I lock the door. I start walking to my car and look up at the lights he changed. "For the lights and helping me clean up."

"My pleasure," he says and stops by my car as I grab the keys. I unlock the door, and he opens the door for me.

"I’m going to grab something to eat," he says. "Want me to grab something for you?"

NO, my head screams. "Yeah, that sounds good." Fucking hell, I curse myself.

"Perfect, I’ll see you soon," he says, waiting for me to get in the car. I get in and pull away from the bar without looking in the rearview mirror. I storm into the house, kicking off my boots and then going to the bathroom.

I start the shower, hoping that when I get out, he’ll be asleep, and I can eat without him pushing my buttons. I spend too long in the shower on purpose, and when I walk out to the kitchen, I stop in my tracks as I see him leaning on the island with the bag of food beside him. "Did you not eat?" I ask, and he looks up.

"No, I was waiting for you," he says, standing up and putting his phone down. "I didn’t know what you wanted, so I got you," he says, taking the sandwiches out of the bag. "Grilled and fried."

"Oh my God," I say, the towel that is piled on my hair falling off. "Um, I guess I’ll take the chicken." I look at him. "Grilled."

"Okay," he says, handing me the sandwich and then grabs the other one.

"Did you not order anything for yourself?" I ask, walking to the island.

"I figured I would eat what you didn’t want," he says. "It doesn’t matter to me as long as it’s food." I ignore the fact that he didn’t pick first and let me choose. I ignore that no one has done that for me.

"Okay, I guess this is a good time to talk about things." I open the sandwich and take a bite before turning and walking to grab a glass. "Until you get a place to stay, why don’t you stay here?"

"I don’t know," he answers, eating the other sandwich. "Is it going to be weird?"

"No," I answer honestly. "I’m assuming you aren’t going to treat my house like a revolving door."

"What does that mean?" he asks, grabbing a glass and pouring himself something to drink.

"You aren’t going to parade women in and out of my