Joie entered Crusty’s with purpose, and a bit of attitude.
“Hit me up,” she hollered toward the gray-haired owner, surprised she was the only patron. Of course, it was early in the day.
Crusty looked up at her from where he labored over a mop and bucket at the end of the bar. “Be with you in a sec, Chill. The keg leaked and left a mess here.” He continued swiping the wooden floor. “If you’re in a hurry, you know where I keep the goods.”
“Got it.” Joie climbed on the stool and leaned far over the counter. She grabbed the loose beer spigot and pointed it at an empty glass. With her other hand, she gave the tap several pumps. Despite the effort, the tiny black hose sputtered and spit out only foam.
Frustrated, she held it up. “Seems everything’s against me today.”
Crusty dipped his mop back in the bucket. “Oh, sorry. The coupling must be out. Probably what caused the leak.”
She jumped off her barstool and headed his way. “Never mind.” On her way past him, she leaned and brushed his leathery cheek with a kiss. “I think I need something stronger anyway.”
The older man rubbed at his cheek and smiled. “Always the tease.”
She laughed. “You know it.”
With determination, she moved behind the bar and headed for the shelf of liquor bottles. “Got any Cozedores? Or did the boys drink all the good tequila up during their poker game last night?”
Crusty winked. “Under the bar. Second cabinet from the right.”
She smiled. “Ah, you’re a good man, Crusty.”
The owner cocked his head. “So, what’s up, Chill? It ain’t even noon yet. And aren’t you supposed to be down at the stables?”
She pulled the bottle from its hiding place and unscrewed the top. “I decided to take some vacation time.”
“Ah—” He nodded.
She closed her eyes for just a second. Some might argue she was running away again. She didn’t care. The way she figured, the new guy could handle things without her just fine. At least until she had to tuck her tail between her legs and return for that much-needed paycheck.
Why did life always dish out such impossible choices?
She poured a generous amount of the amber liquid into a glass and grabbed several lime wedges. Her hand gave one a slight squeeze, then rubbed the juice onto her left hand in that place between her thumb and forefinger. Next, she sprinkled the moist spot with salt and licked.
Before she could change her mind, Joie took a deep breath and upended the glass in her mouth, draining the entire amount. The immediate burn caused her to wince. She reached for the bottle again.
Crusty leaned the mop against the back wall and headed her way. “So, want to talk about it?”
She could tell from his eyes he knew.
Likely, everyone in town had already learned she’d been passed over. Despite what her father claimed about the Albertsons being fair people—smart business folks—they’d hired an outsider, someone barely known, over giving her the opportunity and promotion.
What exactly did that say?
Her life was still a series of bad patterns—that’s what it said.
She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “So, Crusty. What have you heard about him?”
“Who?”
“The guy the Albertsons hired to be the new stable manager.”
Crusty paused. “The one you were making crow with in here the other day?”
“Correction. I wasn’t making crow with anybody,” Joie argued. “Especially not Clint Ladner.”
Crusty’s eyes turned sympathic. He shrugged. “Well, he seems nice enough. I hear he’s a good horseman. Not as fine as you, of course,” he quickly added. “He’s living south of town, not far from your dad’s place.”
She pulled another lime wedge from her little pile. “South of town, huh?”
“Near Gimlet.”
She rubbed her hand with the lime. “What else did you hear about Wonder Boy?”
“He’s single.”
“Well, no doubt. Everybody in the bar that day could tell he was a hound dog. He has that look.”
Crusty lifted his eyebrows. “That look?”
“Yeah, the look.” She sprinkled salt, licked, and shot another glass of tequila, letting the heat of the alcohol erase the fact she’d been dealt a chilling blow.
Wasn’t the first time she’d been blindsided.
Joie reached for the tequila bottle, fresh resolve churning in her gut. One thing you could count on.
This would be the last time.