Authors: Karlene Blakemore-Mowle
“I guess we need to talk about what we’re going to do about the apartment
, huh?” Bella said, sliding into the passenger seat.
Whisky snapped
her head around to look at her friend. “Why? I thought you were back now?”
“I am,” she said slowly. “But I mean
, I can’t expect you to keep paying your share of the place when you’re not even there anymore.”
“I still use it when I go to class a few times a week. Besides, I don’t mind paying. I like having my own space.”
Bella’s gaze narrowed at the alarm in Whisky’s expression. “What’s going on with
you?
” she said throwing Whisky’s words of a few moments before back at her.
“Nothing,” she answered quickly
, and could have kicked herself when she saw Bella’s shrewd gaze. It was bad enough she was damn near psychic during their regular phone calls…in person it was almost impossible to hide anything from her.
“Why don’t I believe that?”
“Because you’re a stubborn pain in the ass who can’t help but be nosy,” she sighed. “I’m attached to our little place and I don’t want to give it up yet. Besides, it’s handy for me if I have a late class or don’t feel like making the drive out here every day.”
“It’s something we’ll have to face one day
, though. I’m not sure where I’ll be in another few months. Once I’ve finished this semester, I’ll be looking for a job, and it might end up being someplace else.”
“Like France?” Whisky asked.
Bell’s face seemed to fall slightly. “Maybe. I’m not sure yet. I really began getting homesick toward the end,”
Bell shrugged.
“When are you going home to see your parents?” Whisky knew
, although her friend loved her family, they weren’t the most affectionate parents in the world. For an only child, life in the Campisi household had been very lonely. Her parents had run in the same circles as her grandparents—wealthy families with old money. That was partly the reason the two girls had gotten on so well. They’d both been looking for the kind of attention lacking in their homes.
“I didn’t tell them I was flying in tonight. I didn’t feel up to a family reunion. I’ll catch up with them in a day or so once I’ve had time to prepare myself.” She smil
ed wearily. “I really missed you, Sky.”
Whisky took her eyes off the road for a fraction of a second and gave her friend a wobbly smile. “I missed you, too.”
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t come back for your dad’s funeral. I felt so bad about that.”
She shook her head, keeping her eyes on the road ahead. “Don’t be silly, it would have been a long trip to make just for a few days. I was fine. I had Sawyer and the guys.” She smiled. “I understood.”
“You’ve been through so much though…I just wish I’d been here for you.”
Whisky heard the sadness in her
friend’s tone and reached over to gently squeeze her hand. “Are you okay? You still haven’t said why you suddenly appeared. I thought you still had a few more weeks before you came back.”
“It ended ahead of schedule and I was ready to come home.”
Although Bella sounded cheerful enough, something felt a little off about the whole thing, but it was hard to pry information out of her when she had to concentrate on the road. She made a mental note to get to the bottom of it once they were home.
It took two trips up the stairs to bring the luggage inside and by the time the girls dragged the last of it through the door they collapsed onto the sofa with an exhausted sigh. “Remind me never to pick you up from the airport,” Whisky said, her eyes closed and head tipped back.
“Don’t worry, I don’t intend leaving this sofa for the next year and half at least,” Bella groaned.
“Go to bed, we can catch up on all the goss
ip tomorrow.”
“I’m really tired, but my head is buzzing. I’m not sure I can sleep just yet.”
“How about we put on a movie, have a wine and chill out?”
Bella gave a small contented sigh. “That sounds divine.”
Whisky pushed herself to her feet. “You choose the movie and I’ll grab the glasses and wine.”
“What do you want to watch?” Bella called from the other room.
“I don’t care.”
“
Mama Mia
?”
“Love it,” Whisky called out and smiled.
“Naa, too singy. I can’t do Abba justice when I’m this tired. What ‘bout
Bridget Jones's Diary
?”
“Sounds great,” Whisky smiled again as they went through the same old ritual they’d always gone through every Friday night before Bella had left to go overseas. It was nice to fall back into this familiar ritual.
“Too whiny…I don’t feel like listening to something that’s too close to imitating my own pathetic love life right now,” she muttered. “
Beaches
?
Steel Magnolias
?”
“Either,” Whisky said
, taking down two glasses.
“
Naa, I’m too tired to handle all the crying.”
“Just pick one already,” Whisky called out in a forced
singsong voice, reaching the irritated stage faster than normal. Maybe she hadn’t missed this particular ritual after all.
“Alright, already.
Knocked Up
?”
“No!”
Jesus,
Whisky couldn’t even begin to think about
that
happening just yet.
“How about
Sleepless in Seattle
?” and she heard the frown in her friend’s voice. “On second thoughts, scrap that. I’m not in the mood for corny sentimentality.”
Corny?
Whisky silently echoed, offended by her friend’s lack of sensitivity. She
loved
that movie. Corny or not, it was a
classic.
She’d made Sawyer watch it with her one cold, rainy night and surprisingly he had, although it had been under the threat of death if she ever told anyone about it.
He’d looked at her a little oddly when she’d sighed blissfully at the end. “You really like all that romantic mumbo jumbo?
” he’d asked, eyeing her oddly.
Of course he of all people wouldn’t get it
, he was Mr. Testosterone personified. She felt kind of silly afterward, and wished she’d never mentioned just how deeply that movie ending had touched her.
“
How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days
?” Bella’s voice called, snapping her out of the moment.
“Perfect,” Whisky said
, coming out from the kitchen. She took the DVD case from Bella’s hand and quickly inserted it into the DVD player before she could come up with any more excuses.
The opening credits were just rolling across the screen when Bella’s phone vibrated loudly on the coffee table before them. Reaching into the bowl of popcorn, Whisky slid a glance across at Bella when she didn’t immediately reach for it. Bella’s phone was like an extra body part—the thing never left her person usually. It vibrated once more and Whisky saw her
friend’s fists clench in her lap.
“Aren’t you going to get that?”
“What? Oh, the phone? No. It’s probably just a Facebook notification.”
That was definitely not Bella-like. Everything was important when it came to Bella and her communication.
Just a Facebook notification?
There was no such thing as
just
Facebook…Facebook was everything. When it continued to buzz, Whisky gave an impatient huff and reached forward to grab the phone.
Instantly, Bella snatched it out of her hands and slid it down the side of the sofa. “It’s not important,” she snapped.
Well that was weird,
Whisky thought, eyeing her friend warily.
“Are we going to watch this movie or what?” she demanded, digging her hand into the bowl and withdrawing a handful of popcorn.
“Well, excuse me,” Whisky muttered sarcastically then felt bad because it was obvious she was struggling with the whole jetlag thing terribly. “We can do this another night if you want to get to bed.”
“No, I need me a fix of Matthew
McConaughey. Hit play.”
“You’re the boss,” Whisky said, picking up the remote and starting the movie. Maybe Bell was right
; a little bit of Matthew McConaughey could fix a lot of things, and settled back on the sofa.
Chapter 3
Whisky took a seat across the desk from the loan officer, a sleek
-looking guy in his mid-twenties dressed in a business suit and tie. She glanced around the office and tried not to feel intimidated by the awkward silence as she waited for him to finish writing something down on a file in front of him. She counted slowly to ten and ignored her mounting frustration at being kept waiting. This was something she’d never do to a customer, she thought, concentrating on her breathing to keep calm. He hadn’t even bothered to look up at her as a secretary had shown her into his office, just lifted a hand and mumbled that he’d be with her in a moment...that was a little over five minutes ago.
She quietly looked the man over, with his fancy gold watch and neatly pressed business shirt and tie. Some women obviously found this successful, clean
-cut image a turn on, but it did nothing for her…not now. Thanks to Sawyer Riley she’d been ruined for all other men.
Her glance shifted away from the man and onto a silver
-plated photo frame of a very attractive brunette wearing a pretty, floral dress, which sat to one side of the desk.
“My fiancé
e,” he said when he finally glanced up and saw her looking at the photo.
“She’s very beautiful. Congratulations…on your engagement,” she added.
“Oh, thanks. Well, we’ve been engaged for a little over three years now.”
“Oh.” Not that Whisky was any expert o
n engagement protocol, but three years seemed a tad excessive.
“Our church elder suggested it might be better for our relationship in the long run if we underwent a premarital course and practiced a period of abstinence.”
Whisky wasn’t sure how she was supposed to respond…or why, for that matter, the guy whom she’d never met before would even be sharing something like that with her. She cleared her throat a little and summoned what she hoped was an encouraging smile…hang in there dude, is what she really felt like saying.
“So,” he said, moving her paperwork in front of him and leaning forward in his chair. “I take it you’re here about a loan?”
Thank goodness they were finally back on track. Whisky breathed a sigh of relief and shook off her previous irritation. “That’s right. I brought along a business plan and all the paperwork you requested. I have financial statements on the business I’m currently a part owner of, as well,” she said, handing a folder across the desk.
“The Black Mustang Bar and Grill,” he read slowly before looking up at her with an uncertain expression. “Not the
bar out on Tullamarine Road?”
“Yes, that’s the one. Do you know it?”
“Ah, well, I’ve heard of it.”
Somehow his tone didn’t convey a great deal of enthusiasm but she planted a friendly smile on her face and ploughed on. “If you take a look at the spreadsheet I included, you’ll see that our
profit margin has been steadily growing.”
“Yes…I see…but I’m afraid we couldn’t back you on your business venture,
Ms. McKenna.”
“What? But you’ve hardly looked at it…my business plan is very comprehensive.”
“I’m sure it is…but I’m sorry, we can’t help you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“This institution doesn’t deal with…extremist groups…like the Black Mustangs,” he told her, his mouth seeming to find the words offensive.
“Extremists?
The Black Mustangs run multiple legitimate and profitable businesses.”
“I’m afraid some of our shareholders wouldn’t agree and they would not approve of our supporting any ventures they may be undertaking.”
“This has nothing to do with the club. The coffee shop will be
my
business,” Whisky grated, trying to remain calm despite the panic which was quickly rising.