better, even a tiny bit, gave her purpose. It made her feel worthy of him, though that feeling wouldn’t last forever.
“Whatever it takes, First,” she said, her grin stretching her cheeks. “When it comes to looking after you, I’ll use every tool at my disposal.”
“Every tool, huh?” he asked, telling her with his tone that a tease was coming. “So if I set up a camera in the bedroom—” A shout in the background shut him up and then there was a melee of activity on the line. “Shit, baby, I’ve gotta go. Be safe, okay? Ritchie will take you home. Don’t forget.”
“Okay. I won’t,” she said. “You be safe too…”
The line cut off, so Poppy wasn’t sure he’d even heard her. Whatever was going on, Turner needed to be in control. With everything that was on his plate, she was pleased to have taken at least one thing off it. She only wished that she could do more.
NINETEEN
On opening her eyes, it took Poppy a second to orient herself. Bed. She was in bed, her bed… and she wasn’t alone. Full of trepidation, her eyes widened before her head moved on the pillow to see who was lying next to her.
Pink and blonde hair trailed from her pillow to the one at the other side of the bed: Charley.
Oh, God, there were cocktails. Naught closed up and they were still there… just her, Charley, Naught, and Ritchie. How had that happened? How had they ended up behind the bar mixing their own drinks? No, Charley was mixing them and both of them were drinking.
Then there was dancing. Where were they…
The party room. There were lights in the party room. Twinkly lights, and a sound system…
Her hand went to her forehead. She’d never had a night like that. Never had a night where getting home was about all she could muster. If Ritchie hadn’t been there, God knew what would’ve happened to them.
Charley puking in her toilet, Poppy had a clear memory of that…
That’s what happened. She remembered.
Rolling toward the woman next to her, Poppy was careful about gathering Charley’s hair away from her face to check that the woman was still breathing. Breathing. Check.
Flopping onto her back, she covered her face with both hands. Turner was going to kill her. Charley hadn’t wanted to leave Naughtie’s. Ritchie had to carry her out to his truck. At the time, Poppy thought it was hilarious. Looking back on it, she wasn’t as amused.
Ritchie drove over to the Venture first, intending to only drop off one of his passengers. Charley wasn’t supposed to get out of the truck at all, but she’d jumped out while Poppy was saying goodnight to Ritchie.
In a panic that her young friend might run into Turner’s place and find Faye there, Poppy went after her. But Charley hadn’t been interested in her brother, she’d bolted upstairs eager to see the apartment that she declared they were going to be “roomies” in.
Charley was showing Poppy the bottle she’d swiped from Naughtie’s when Ritchie appeared in the doorway, asking Charley to return to the truck. The poor guy didn’t get a response. Charley was too busy opening up the stolen bottle and searching for her brother’s radio.
Naught probably wouldn’t be amused when he found he’d been robbed. The bar was the man’s livelihood and they hadn’t exactly given it a lot of respect.
The young beauty kept on drinking and retuning Turner’s radio every time she wanted to dance to a new song. Ritchie did his best to tempt her back into the truck. Once Charley got sick, Poppy told him to go.
Delivering her to her mother in that kind of condition would’ve got Ritchie’s ass handed to him. So he left and Poppy took care of Charley. She’d been drinking, but obviously not as much as Charley who began to wax lyrical about her love for David. Something she might regret in the light of day.
Oh, God, it was daytime. And they had to work at nine PM. She’d have to get Charley in the shower… would her clothes fit or would she need to go home?
Raising the covers, Poppy checked they were both wearing her night shirts, but the oversized garments didn’t give her a clue about regular clothes.
A tapping from somewhere outside the room moved her head again. What was that? Someone knocking? No! The moment she figured it out, Poppy flew out of the bed. She’d never moved so fast in all her life.
Running from the