25. Lexie

Chapter 25

Lexie

I woke up at Gillian's to my phone buzzing, and when I looked at it, I saw that I had three missed calls from Oliver and several text messages.

Please talk to me.

Lex, I'm sorry. I need to talk to you.

Lex, I love you.

That last one made me bolt upright in bed. Gillian groaned, sitting up and wiping at her eyes.

"You're up early," she commented. "Thought you only had the bar shift tonight."

"Oliver texted me," I said, showing her the phone screen.

Her eyes widened. "He loves you? Wow."

"Right?" I huffed. I was still angry, and I didn't know if I wanted to talk to him. But I couldn't help my heart from soaring after seeing that message. Did he mean it?

After how he'd acted after seeing me and Tristan, I couldn't imagine that he would even want to talk to me, much less be declaring his love for me.

I got up and headed for the shower, trying to push Oliver out of my mind, but that message kept coming back, floating in my memory.

Lex, I love you.

God, if only that were true. It would mean the world. But it wouldn't mean that I forgave him. I took in a deep breath, letting the water wash away my stress and worries. He was the one who said we should just be friends. He was the one that went after Tristan because he didn't trust me.

I never did anything wrong. I never cheated on him. I loved him with everything in me, and he just threw it away. I lost Tristan and Oliver in one fell swoop, Tristan had been my close friend too. I'd lost all my hopes and dreams because Oliver thought I was cheating when I wasn't.

My phone buzzed on my nightstand as soon as I started to get dressed and I groaned, walking toward it. It was Krista.

I picked it up, my hair still dripping. "Hello?"

"Thank God you answered," she breathed. "I really need your help."

"My help?"

"Someone just called in to reserve the entire place. There's going to be close to two hundred people. We'll be at capacity. I called Raoul, but we still need another server." She sighed. "Another three servers and bartenders, really, but we only have what we have."

My eyes widened. "Holy cow. Okay, I can come in. What time?"

She paused. "In an hour."

I gasped. "An hour?"

"Oliver said he'll come in to help too."

Suddenly, I wasn't so sure I could make it. "I don't know, Krista, that's really short notice."

"Please, Lex. We really need you. You'll make a lot of money, at least five hundred in tips. I've waited on these people before and they're big tippers," she pleaded.

I drew in a breath. Five hundred dollars for a shift was something I wasn't in the position to turn down. Especially with the baby coming.

I sighed. "All right. I'll be there."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," she chanted. "See you soon."

She hung up and I hurried to get dressed, towel-drying my hair, and letting it lie damp. It would be a little extra curly, but I planned on putting it up in a ponytail later anyway.

I put on some light makeup and a pair of jeans that were starting to get a little too tight, and a simple V-neck shirt.

Oliver generally didn't care what we wore, and I thought the outfit made me look pretty good.

"Where are you off to?" Gillian asked as I went into the living room, grabbing my purse.

"Work," I said quickly. "The Pig got rented out by some big wigs and they need me there early. Can you give me a ride?"

She whistles. "Of course. I hope you make good money, but don't you think you should consider giving up one of your jobs? I mean, the baby..."

"I'll be fine," I assured her. "Women work through their pregnancies all the time. Plus, it's still early."

"Okay," she said slowly as she got out of bed. "I just worry about you."

I smiled at her, feeling a wave of affection for my baby sister. The one great thing about coming back to Wagontown was reconnecting with her.

After throwing on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, Gilly grabbed her keys. "Let's go," she said with a grin .

When we arrived at the Pig, I turned to my sister. "Thanks, Gilly, for everything. I'll see you later."

She waved and smiled and I got out of the car, anxiously hurrying inside. I had no idea what this shift would bring.

It still seemed kind of strange that the place belonged to Oliver now; all the work he'd done had given it a different feel. It wasn't bad, but I missed the old Pig every once in a while. After all, it held a lot of nostalgia for me.

As soon as I walked in the door, I spotted Krista cutting up lemons and limes at warp speed.

She hissed and put her finger in her mouth. "Stupid citrus acid," she grumbled.

"You shouldn't bite your cuticles," I scolded, knowing it was a bad habit of hers. I put my hair up and washed my hands, nudging her aside with my hip and taking over.

Her finger still in her mouth, Krista wrinkled her nose, turning to wash her hands and get the rest of the bar ready. She pulled down the top shelf liquor—expensive vodkas, tequilas, rums, and bourbons.

My eyes widened. "They really must be good tippers, ordering everything top shelf."

"They really are," she chuckled. "They're a little needy, but they're very nice and very rich."

"Is it a business or something?" I asked, curious. I didn't know that many rich people in Wagontown other than Oliver and his family.

She nodded. "It's Oliver's board."

I froze. "So it's the people he works with?"

"Everyone on the oil magnate board." She paused. "I think his dad is coming, too."

I let out a long breath. Great . "Perfect," I mumbled, and Krista raised an eyebrow but didn't push .

There was too much to do for her to be nosy, I guess.

It took us about half an hour to get everything set up, and by then, people were already starting to trickle in. There were men in three-piece suits that probably cost more than my car, the women wearing expensive shoes and toting designer handbags.

They started to sit down as I finished setting up the bar, Krista and Raoul taking orders. We'd decided that since I was the fastest pourer, I'd stay behind the bar until they began to order entrees. I bounced on my heels, waiting for the orders, and when they started to come in, I began to pour. I was sweating by the time I finished the first round, grateful that Raoul and Krista were serving.

I huffed out a breath and walked back to the walk-in freezer to get some cool air. It helped a lot, especially since I was starting to feel dizzy. Maybe Gillian was right. Maybe I should think about lowering my hours. I certainly wanted to keep the baby safe. I was starting to show, but the apron covered it.

I hurried back out to the bar, seeing that I had a couple more drink orders. While I was making them, Oliver's father walked in.

I lowered my head and focused on the drinks, trying to avoid eye contact, but he walked right up to the bar anyway.

"Alexandra?" he called softly.

I hated it when people called me by my full name. It always made me feel like I was in trouble or something, because my parents only did it when I was being scolded.

"Lexie," I corrected him, looking up into his eyes, so much like Oliver's.

He was a handsome man and he was aging well, even if his belly was a little rounded. Oliver clearly got the best from both of them .

"Lexie. It's lovely to see you."

"Is it?" I asked dryly.

He leaned forward, lowering his tone. "Oliver told me about my grandchild. I just wanted to say congratulations." He paused. "And that... I'm sorry."

I tilted my head. "Sorry for what?"

He sighed. "I know I was awful to you back then. I know that I messed things up between you and Oliver."

"What do you mean?" Confusion rushed over me, threatening to turn into panic. "How did you ruin things?"

"By telling him to suspect you and Tristan," he answered, looking down as if ashamed.

"It was you?" I gasped.

No wonder Oliver hadn't believed me. His own father told him that I was some kind of floozy.

"I'm sorry, Lexie," he said. "I hope one day you can forgive me."

He walked away, toward one of the tables, and all I could do was stare straight ahead, shell-shocked.

I always knew that his father didn't like me, but I never thought he'd sabotage our relationship. I understood better now why Oliver believed something had happened, but he should have trusted me. He should have believed in our love.

I cleared my throat as more orders came through on the printer, throwing myself into work, steadily making the drinks and keeping the ice cooler full. I was glad I didn't have to speak to anyone other than Krista and Raoul. My head was spinning, and I didn't think I'd be very good company to patrons.

"Are you all right?" Raoul asked softly as he came over to get a couple of rum and cokes.

I wiped sweat from my brow. "Sure. Just tired. "

"We could switch places, if you'd like," he offered, and I smiled at him gratefully.

"Thanks, but I'd rather stay behind the bar. I'm not used to dealing with all these rich folks."

He chuckled. "Me, either. But it'll be worth it when we split our tips."

I nodded and he took off with the drinks. Oliver was nowhere in sight, and I was surprised. He'd said that he'd be there to help.

It was another hour before he showed up, coming through the door looking disheveled and flustered.

"Sorry I'm late," he muttered to Krista.

"It's okay," she said. "Please help Lexie behind the bar."

I winced and groaned inwardly. We were going to be in close proximity, pouring drinks together, but what could I do? Refuse? He was my boss.

Oliver came behind the bar and I was surprised he didn't smell like whiskey. I'd been sure he'd been drinking last night when he sent those text messages.

"Everything okay?" I asked quietly, a little worried.

"Trent has a high fever," he answered, filling cups with ice to help the orders move along quicker. "He's with his grandmother."

I frowned. "Poor guy. I hope he feels better soon."

Oliver turned to me, his eyes intense, and I couldn't help but turn away. When he looked at me like that, it made my knees weak, and I was determined to still be angry with him.

I'd lost everything when he broke up with me, moving out of Wagontown to recover.

I continued to focus on pouring drinks as they came in, avoiding Oliver as much as possible. We worked in silence but we were a good team, making sure that each drink was perfect.

When I went to each table and booth to bus drink glasses since we were running low, Oliver's father stared at me. I didn't know what he expected. Did he want me to forgive him after everything his lies caused?

I knew he was my child's grandfather, and I wouldn't keep them apart, but as for a relationship with me, that wasn't going to happen.

It was nearly dusk by the time everyone trailed out. Krista, Raoul, and I were counting our tips at a back table when Oliver walked over.

"Don't tell me we're opening up to the public," Krista groaned.

Oliver scoffed. "Hell, no. We've had a long day. Our regulars can wait until tomorrow night to come and drink."

"Thank God," Raoul breathed, and I laughed a little.

We'd made almost six-hundred dollars each, and I was over the moon. It was going right into my savings so that eventually, I could start a new life anywhere but here.

"Lexie, can I talk to you?" Oliver asked as I started to get ready to leave.

"Not tonight," I said firmly. "Gotta get home."

"Lex, please?—"

Luckily, I had already called Gillian to come and pick me up, so she was waiting when I walked outside. I'd left, not even giving Oliver a second glance. I wasn't ready to talk to him. I wasn't ready to forgive him.

And I knew that looking into his soulful eyes, hearing his words, I would cave.