While I looked forward to going over Bethany’s business with a fine-tooth comb, I knew from the moment I woke up that the day would be an intense one.
Making people face all the places they’d failed was never easy. Most businesses took a nosedive because people didn’t want to see their problems, so they let them keep growing. In Bethany’s case, this wasn’t her fault. But there was still a lot of ugly.
While I’d braced myself for defensiveness on her part—she didn’t strike me as the teary, hysterical type—I hadn’t expected to walk into the coffee shop to see three girls staring at me.
Bethany wore a dress that brushed her knees and a pair of strappy sandals. Her hair, pulled away from her face, still swept her shoulders. One of girls, a redhead, held a cup of coffee. A fortune cookie on the front of it said, Your life is about to change. Order more coffee. She extended it to me, lips pursed into a tempered smile.
Her voice was lyrical. “Bethie said you like it black, two sugars.”
She set it on my usual table, which was filled with piles of paper, several binders, and an open laptop. The girl retreated to another table by a stack of books. Behind the counter stood another young girl. Raven hair like Bethany, but her eyes were more seafoam than glacial blue. Her gaze darted to my prosthetic then back to my face without a flicker.
Bethany could have been her sister.
“Maverick,” Bethany said with a smile laced with . . . something. “I’d like you to meet Lizbeth and Ellie, my half-sisters.” She motioned to the two girls with a sweep of her arm. “They wanted to meet the man who’s going to guarantee them a new home. I figured it would make sense for you to understand the urgency behind what we’re doing.”
I paused, halfway to the table.
Wait, what?
An awkward pause filled the room, instantly kicking my instincts to life.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, slipping into my best attempt at smoothing the situation into something more comfortable. Nerves made for terrible deals. When I looked back at Bethany, eyebrows raised in silent question, she almost smiled.
“Do explain,” I murmured, on guard already.
“Lizbeth, Ellie, and I share our mama. Their father is a pig and deserves to be shot, but since I can’t legally do that, I’m keeping them. We want to do everything we can to prove to a judge that the three of us can live together in better conditions than at Jim’s home, where they aren’t safe.”
The bartender at the restaurant had mentioned that Bethany’s date last night had been a local lawyer. The puzzle pieces slid together slowly.
The family-law attorney.
Pro bono work.
Worries about cash flow and the business.
Sugar in her grocery cart.
Half-sisters.
“I see,” I said. It all made sense now.
Bethany stepped out from behind the counter wearing her usual faded black apron with pockets in the front. She tucked her hands into the pockets, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. It was her only tell.
“Maybe you see a little of it,” she murmured, “but not entirely. Their bruises have faded for now, but if Jim gets ahold of them again, they won’t.”
My fists clenched at my sides. A little fire had ignited in Ellie’s tempestuous gaze, but she hadn’t moved a bit. Lizbeth peered at me from the top of a book, her long legs sprawled over the side of her chair, as if she wanted to shield herself from the world but didn’t want to miss this moment.
I held Bethany’s gaze in wordless question. Bethany nodded, her jaw tight. All right, then. Stakes were higher. Abusive father of young girls. Challenge accepted. Nothing would feel better than taking this bastard down.
“I brought out everything that I have on the coffee shop.” She waved a hand toward the cluttered table. “Any paperwork Dad left when he died. Books. Receipts. Whatever. I think there are delivery logs there too. I haven’t really kept track since I took over.”
The flippant whatever made my skin crawl. No wonder this place was such a hot mess. No part of the numbers of any brick-and-mortar business could be whatever. This clutter, while entirely unnecessary with the right organizational system, could hide a gem.
Could. We’d see.
Her nose wrinkled. “Owning a business is a lot of paperwork.”
“You don’t own a business yet,” I said quietly. “You’ve been operating one, but until you can walk away without fear of debt, you don’t truly own it. The bank owns it. You’re running it. There’s a difference between keeping plates in the air and sculpting, executing, and realizing a vision.”
That same annoyance I’d seen the first time we spoke about this flared up in her gaze. “I disagree,” she croaked. “But for the sake of efficiency, we’ll go with that. I’m running this business.”
No, it was running her, but now wasn’t the time for that clarification.
A few things clicked for me in that moment. Bethany was taking a huge risk bringing these girls into her life, and even though I didn’t have any of the details, I could tell they weren’t sister-close yet.
Not only was the risk significant, but her business was about to bottom out. Her only chance to prove herself able to provide for these girls was likely just about to crash in a final blaze of financial debt and lackluster glory.
If she truly lived upstairs, that meant losing the Frolicking Moose really did mean she’d lose everything. So would the girls. Someone at the gas station had mentioned that Bethany had walked away from college after her father died, which meant she had no real chance of saving herself or them without this firepit.
But there was something in her eyes that told me she wasn’t ready to walk out of the flames yet. Impressive as hell. As long as she’d try, I would too.
And then she would win.
Setting aside the unnerving desire to maim the man who’d harmed either of these girls, I nodded to the table.
“Then let’s get started.”