CHAPTER 1

EMILY CARTER

~NEW JERSEY~

~Terry’s bar~

   “Mommy, are you coming back soon?”

   I smiled, pressing the phone closer to my ear as I sat against the locker in the break room. “Soon, baby. I just have few things to settle, remember?”

   A small pause. Then, her small voice came through the phone, quiet and sad. “You always say that.”

   My chest tightened, but I kept my voice light. “And I always promise to come back, don’t I?”

  “Mm.” Another pause. “Grandma said you’re busy.”

   “I am,” I said quietly. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss you.”

   “I miss you more.”

   I let out a breath, blinking away the sting behind my eyes. “That’s impossible.”

   She giggled, and for a second, everything felt normal. Easy. 

   “Okay, mommy. Don’t forget to call me tomorrow.”

   “I won’t.”

   “Promise?” 

   “I promise.”

   The line went dead, and just like that, the quiet settled back in.

   I stared at my screen for a second longer than necessary before locking it. Reality always came back too quickly.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

   I was furiously scrolling through my phone, and praying the email I received from my soon to be job hadn’t disappeared, when my coworker’s voice boomed through the break room. 

   “Emily.”

   I ignored her, still scrolling like my life depended on it.

   “Emily,” she called again, her head poking through the doorway. “Seriously? Going through your phone while on duty?”

   I rolled my eyes. “Or perhaps, if you’d checked the time before shouting my name through the entire bar, you’d know I’m on break.” 

   She scoffed, placing her hands on her hips, one foot jutting out in that smug pose she loved. “And maybe if you had checked the time, you’d know your break was over fifteen minutes ago.”

   I turned off my phone, slow and deliberate, slid it into my back pocket, and gave her my full attention. “Grace, I know you didn’t come in here just to talk about the time. So what do you actually want?” 

   She stepped fully into the room, folding her arms. “For one, I did come to tell you the time. And for two… I need you to cover up for me. I have to use the restroom.”

   Typical Grace. 

   I pushed out of my chair. “You know, that’s all you could’ve said, right?”

   “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” She turned on her heel, heading towards the restroom. 

   I shook my head, grabbed my apron, and stomped back to the bar. 

   It was just 2:25 in the afternoon , and the place was still buzzing. Customers poured in and out, some already wasted, others arriving with clear heads and bad intentions. 

   God, how I hate this job. 

   I was about to make a drink for a customer when a familiar gravelly voice called my name.

   “Hey, Emily!”

   I whipped my head around and was greeted by the sight of a half-wasted Joe, same clothes as yesterday, same unsettling grin.

   “Hi, Joe. How are you doing today?”

   “Fine, Emily. I personally came to see you since you haven’t replied to any of my texts.” He ran his hand over his knotted hair and took a step closer. “You know how much I like you, right? I won’t give up till you go on a date with me.”

   I forced a smile and focused on the bottle of whiskey in front of me, anything to avoid his gaze. “You know I’m always busy, Joe. But I promise I’ll make time, okay?”

   He studied me for a long second, like he could see straight through me. “Okay. But please reply to my messages, yeah?”

   “Okay.”

   I watched him finally pull back and stumble out of the bar.

   I let out a lungful of air I hadn’t realized I was holding. 

   I still remembered the first time I met Joe, how he told me he’d been ‘keeping an eye’ on me, and how I’d handed over my number just to keep things from getting ugly. 

   If there’s one thing I’ve learned about men like that, it’s that you tread carefully. 

   Leaning on the counter, I stared through the window at the city outside, letting my thoughts drift.

   I couldn’t wait to end this job and start my high class job as soon as possible. This place had been hell, and honestly, I had no one to blame but myself. 

   I had walked away from a free apartment because I was scared to come back here, and stupid enough to think my dreams were limited to New Jersey. I had still landed the dream job, but my hesitation had cost me the housing. 

   Still, I couldn’t spend my whole life depending on Drew. 

   I needed my own path. 

   “Emily!” 

   My boss’s deep voice echoed through the bar. 

   I bit my lip, forcing down the irritation that rose instantly. I turned toward his office, already pasting on a smile.

   He stood there, tall and broad-shouldered, hands in his pockets, salt-and-pepper hair slightly tousled.

   “Ahem.” 

   His voice snapped me out of my thoughts. 

   “See something you like, Emily?”

   Heat rushed to my cheeks. “Huh? What? Boss?”

   He chuckled, shaking his head. “Relax. I just need you to do something for me.” 

   I cleared my throat, smoothing down my apron. “What do you need, sir?” 

   His smile faded. “It’s not for me, it’s for the VIP section. The restroom needs a little cleaning. We’ve got special guests coming in an hour.” 

   “Guests?”

   “Yes, Emily. Guests. Get to it now.”

   God, I hated this job. 

   I headed back to the break room, tying my ginger-brown hair into a tight bun.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

   An hour later, I was finally done cleaning. My feet ached, my back throbbed, and my eyes burned from my contacts.

   When I returned to the bar, it was jam-packed—louder, busier, and more chaotic than before.

   “Where were you?” Grace demanded.

   “I was cleaning the VIP bathroom, okay? Terry told me to.”

   “I’d love to hear details that don’t concern me,” she shot back. “But we’ve got a full house. Move it.” 

   I stared at her. We had two other employees on shift, why was she acting like I was the problem? 

   “Seriously? You’re just going to stand there and stare at me?” She snapped. “Pick up a rag or something.”

   “I was about to ask where the others are and why you’re working alone.” 

   “One, Elle’s on a restroom break, and two, Beatrice had an emergency and had to leave. So, can you please help me out?”

   I closed my eyes, taking a slow breath.

   Just one more day.

   Ten minutes later, Elle was back, red-faced and flustered. 

   “Just came from the boss’s office,” she said, voice too perky for how exhausted she looked.

   I frowned. “But Grace said you were in the restroom.”

   “I was,” she said quickly, “but Terry called me to come by his office. Said he was trying to reach you but figured you were still cleaning the VIP area, so he called me instead.” She grabbed a tray, her eyes lighting up. “Oh my God, Emily, if there’s a word stronger than hot. Those guests? Absolutely gorgeous.”

   I shook my head, and gave her a light smack on the back. “Snap out of it. We’ve got work to do.”

   “Are you busy?”

   “No, why?”

   “Because you’re coming with me, pretty girl.”

   “But Terry told ‘you’ to serve them!” 

   “Nope. He chose you. I was just your placement.” She smirked. “Come on. I can’t go back there alone.”

   I groaned. “Remind me why you’re always a pain in my arse?”

   She winked. “Let’s go, baby girl.”

   I picked up the tray, my hands not as steady as I wanted them to be, and followed her up the stairs. 

   A different mix of expensive cologne filled the air. 

  The kind that lingered long after the person wearing it had disappeared. 

   We came to a stop at the door. 

   Elle turned to me with a nervous smile. “You ready?”

   “Yes,” I whispered.

   She knocked, then pushed the door open.

   Every conversation inside stopped.

   I followed in, my pulse climbing, my grip tightening around the tray.

   After a moment, with a lung filled with air, I lifted my eyes.

   And the sight infront of me nearly made the tray slip from my fingers.