Her expression softened. “A man of your word.”
“I try to be.”
She offered a tight smile. “I better get back to work. Can I get you anything else?”
“No. I’m good. Just the check.”
She nodded. “Be right back.” Once he had his check there would be no reason for him to stay. She could only stall for so long. What if she didn’t see him again? Why was it even important if she did? She punched in the information for his bill. There was a solidness about Justin, a confidence and warmth that couldn’t be manufactured. She stole a look in his direction. She wanted to get to know him, and she knew deep in her soul that he was feeling the same vibe.
“Here’s your check.” She placed the bill in front of him.
He took a look at the bill. If he paid with his credit card, she’d know who he was. He wasn’t ready to cross that line yet. He wanted to get to know her on his terms without the distraction of the Lawson name. Bailey seemed down to earth, a regular woman with a good head on her shoulders, but they all did in the beginning. He needed to give this some time. He plucked his wallet from his inside jacket pocket and took out a fifty and a twenty.
“I’ll bring your change.”
“Keep it.”
Her brows flicked. “Thanks.”
“Sure,” he said quietly.
Justin pushed back and stood. “How many nights are you here?” he asked.
She blinked. “Oh, um, most nights, except Sunday and one Saturday a month.”
“In that case, I’ll see you again. If that’s okay.”
“Sure. I’d like that.”
He gave her the full benefit of his smile that caused the lights to dance in her eyes. “See you soon, Bailey.”
“Take care.” He walked around the tables to the front and out the door. And for whatever crazy reason, he already missed her smile.
Bailey chopped a bushel of collard greens while Addison seasoned a tub of crawfish. Addison had a bachelor party that she was catering for on the weekend, and there was still fish to fry and sticky rice to make.
“So, he was cute, huh?” Addison asked.
“More than cute.”
“Did you give him your number?”
“Of course not.” She paused. “He didn’t ask, but he did say he wanted to see me again.”
“That’s a start. What does he do?”
“Lawyer.”
“Jackpot!”
Bailey laughed. “You would say that.”
“Well, it’s true, but what’s more important is that you actually took an interest in somebody.” She glanced at Bailey from the corner of her eye. “It’s been a long time since Adam. All you do is work and take care of your selfish family. When is it going to be your time?”
“Addy, don’t start.”
Addison stopped with her seasoning and propped her hand on her hip. “You know it’s true, B. Your sisters drain the life out of you. You have bills up the you know what and no daylight in sight. You need someone—for you. Maybe this guy is it.”
“I’m not looking for some man to take care of me, Addy. I won’t be my mother.” Her features tightened.
Addison flinched. Men. Money. Mom. The three Ms that remained a bone of contention for Bailey, and no amount of prodding or coaxing had changed any of it. She pushed out a breath of apology. “Sorry. I don’t mean to... I just know how hard things can be for you. How hard they are.” She reached out and touched Bailey’s arm. “I’m your girl, Bailey. I only want you to be happy. That’s all.”
Bailey lowered her gaze. “I know,” she murmured. She slowly shook her head. “Did I tell you that Tory called?”
“How much did she want this time?”
“Twelve hundred.”
“What! Bailey...”
Bailey held up her hand. “Don’t say it, okay? I know.”
“Tory has got to stand on her own two feet, and she never will if you keep bailing her out.”
Bailey spun toward Addison. “She’s my sister. I can’t just...” She covered her face with her hands.
Addison came to her side and put her arm around her shoulder. “Sweetie, when it’s not Tory it’s Apryl with her man-crazy self. You can’t continue to carry them on your shoulders. They’re living their lives. When are you going to live yours? What about going back to law school? How are you going to manage that if you keep...” She blew out a breath of utter frustration.
“I made a promise to myself when my mother died. I promised that I would look after my sisters.”
“And that’s what you’ve been doing. You put your entire life on hold, dropped out of school, worked like a field hand to take care of them and pick up their broken pieces over and over. It’s your time, damn it!” She slapped down the towel on the counter.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” She focused on the sink full of greens, wishing that it would turn into dollars and make all her troubles go away. But money wasn’t the answer. Her mother was proof of that. But what Addison said was true. She knew that, as well. She did want someone in her life, someone to take care of her for a change, make her feel wanted, needed and loved. If she was waiting on that from her family, she knew she’d be waiting a very long time.
“What’s next?” Bailey asked, shaking the water off the greens and putting them in a giant pot of seasoned steaming water.
Addison looked at her friend and saw the resolute expression in the tight line of her mouth and knew that the subject of Bailey and her family drama was closed.
“The fish needs to be dredged in the seasoning.”
“Got it.”
They worked in silence for a while; the only sound was the boiling water and busy hands.
“I hope he comes back again,” Bailey said in a near whisper. She slid a glance in Addison’s direction.
Addison grinned. “She lives!”
* * *
Every night for the next two weeks Bailey went to work with the hopes of seeing Justin again. Each night ended in disappointment.
He wasn’t coming back. He talked a good game and that was it. What would a high-priced lawyer want with a bartender/would-be law student? This was why she didn’t get involved, didn’t hope for anything more than light conversation to pass the time. If you didn’t expect anything, you couldn’t be fooled or disappointed. But he’d seemed genuinely interested in her. It was probably her own need that she thought she saw reflected in him. Nothing more. He was no different from Adam. She pressed her hand to her stomach. No different.
* * *
“Hey, Bailey, it’s Addy.”
Bailey smiled. “Like you really have to tell me who you are. How long have we known each other—third grade?” She curved her body into the contours of her armchair and draped her leg across the arm.
“Must I remind you not to remind me how long we’ve known each other? It’s much too long, and