him a glance. “Not tonight, Errol.” I didn’t owe him a minute of my time.
“Then leave.”
I stopped and tipped my head. How could he think he had a right to kick me out? “And why would I have to leave?”
“Danika ain’t going to serve you.”
If Danika didn’t serve all the women that Darren made googly eyes at, hit on, or messed around on her with—just since they’d been married—she’d have male-only clientele. He’d married her, so now he couldn’t blow her off when another pair of legs caught his interest. She deserved better than him, but I’d pointed it out years ago when he’d acted like she didn’t exist and she’d done everything short of covering her ears.
“Then Danika’s costing you business,” I pointed out.
“I told her not to serve you until you pay your tab.”
When would I have run up a tab? Oh. Right. “Pop’s debts aren’t mine. Do you need to see his death certificate?”
“Danny’s debts are yours when he charges them to the ranch.”
My mind whirled, trying to undo the wrongness of his statement. “And why, exactly, would a bar let a ranch start a tab?” Pop wasn’t buying booze for the ranch. He’d been a party of one drinking his sorrows down.
Errol folded his beefy arms and stared me down. His handlebar mustache twitched under his nose as he sniffed. He held my gaze and the answer unfolded between us as if invisible words ghosted out of his lips.
It’d been a matter of time before Pop died. Car accident. Alcohol poisoning. Cirrhosis. Bar fight. Errol had wanted his money and he’d thought I’d be good for it.
“You let him run up a tab, thinking I could pay it off when he passed.”
“Well, you’re here.” He looked over my shoulder. “Danika says you’re with a King. You must be good for something.”
“Fuck you, Errol.”
“You ain’t never said that in all the years I’ve known you. Did I hit a nerve?” He rolled his shoulders, keeping his arms crossed. The red glow of the sign lit his bald scalp like a sinister halo. “Look, I don’t care if you’re sleeping with him so he can pay off all your daddy’s debts, I only care that you find a way to pay for mine.”
“You can’t expect to get taken seriously for a bar tab you let an alcoholic take out against his failing business.”
“You wanna get some legal counsel and find out? Because if I have to pony up a retainer fee, that’s going on your tab too.”
Suffocating frustration clawed its way up my throat. I ground my teeth together and glared at him. I couldn’t pay. Danika wouldn’t serve me or Dawson until my “tab” was settled. I didn’t bother to ask how much the tab was. I wasn’t wasting my hard work on this hole in the ground.
“Everything all right here?” Dawson said. He stopped next to me, his hand going around my waist like he’d done when we’d entered.
I held my glare on Errol. “No. But then I don’t expect anything less out of a shithole like this.”
“I can do a lot of renovations with what your ranch owes,” Errol countered.
“You took advantage of a sick man. You’re a piece of shit.”
A young girl just past drinking age shot a wide-eyed look at me before she slipped into the bathroom. Guess I’d be keeping my mega-bitch reputation.
Errol’s mustache twitched. “Tell yourself what you want to. I’ll send the bill in the mail.” He disappeared into the storeroom.
“Asshole,” I growled under my breath and pivoted to storm down the hallway. I was done with this place. “I want to go.”
“Bristol, what—”
“I just want to go.”
I sped out of the hallway and crashed into Danika. Her tray of drinks clattered to the floor, glass shattering and liquid spraying my feet.
“What the hell?” she shrieked. Her eyes narrowed on me and she slammed her hands on her hips.
“It was an accident,” Dawson said, angling himself between us like I’d waste my time getting into a fight with her.
I skirted past the mess. “Put it on my tab,” I called over my shoulder.
I didn’t care if Dawson was behind me. I stormed out, and after the mess I’d left behind, no one got in my way.
Breezing outside, I finally let myself wonder what I’d do if Dawson didn’t follow me. I couldn’t say I’d blame him. Where I went in town, chaos followed. I attracted the idiots and assholes and I refused to put up with them.
“Bristol. Dammit. Wait.”
Any relief