Chapter 2

Alarm: DON'T FORGET THE BAR

Ryan Harrington just wanted a quiet night alone at home, but since taking over the sporting goods store after his parents' death, he'd found himself being forced out to meet with people way too often. A little more than a month had passed since the crash that caused their deaths, and he wasn't done grieving. But someone had to run the store, so he would go to the bar tonight for this meeting even though it was the last thing he wanted to do.

Tonight, he was meeting the school's superintendent, Mr. Brinkley. The man wanted to make sure Ryan could handle the orders next year. Of course, he could. He'd been doing most of the inventory and ordering for years. His father was a figurehead, that was all. Brinkley had said some stuff in his email that had made Ryan's hackles rise, but he didn't want to go in all angry and insulted. They needed the orders from the school district because that paid the bills.

When he arrived at the bar, the place was packed, which didn't help his mood. Usually, this bar wasn't so crowded, but for some reason, there were about twenty extra people who seemed to want to dance and party. This wasn't that type of bar. Honestly, none of the bars here in Foggy Basin were party bars. At least, he didn't think they were. It had been years since his party days had ended. Not that he wasn't up for a good time, but partying like he was in his early twenties wasn't his idea of fun anymore.

He spied Indigo in the crowd and groaned. She'd tried to get him to participate in her auction. The excuse of his parents dying had been enough to get her to stop asking. He hated using them as an excuse, but the last thing he wanted was to put himself out there in the dating pool again.

The superintendent stepped into the bar at eight sharp, and his nose curled up like he found the place lacking. Ryan wished he'd been filming because he would get some laughs at the face the man had made.

"Harrington, I didn't think it would be this loud."

Ryan nodded, leaning in so Brinkley could hear him. "It's a bit much. I don't think we can really have a conversation here." For a moment, Ryan thought he'd lost the guy's attention, but Brinkley shook his head and waved for him to go outside.

Once outside, Brinkley turned to him. "Sorry, that was just too loud. I need to make sure you can handle this coming year. It's special. We think we'll go all the way to state."

Ryan nodded, unsure why this year would be any different, even if they did make it to the playoffs. The equipment and uniform orders were always filled on time. "Yes, sir. I've been working with my father for over a decade. Before he passed, he'd already handed all operations over to me." Ryan kept the smile on his face, trying not to tell Brinkley to fuck off. He wasn't some amateur running the stores. Dealing with the funeral, and now clearing out his parents' house to get it ready to sell had pinched his time, but he could handle the orders—he was handing the orders.

Brinkley slapped him on the shoulder. "Sounds good. I guess you're wise beyond your years. I was going to buy you a drink, but I don't think either one of us wants to go back in there."

Ryan shook his head, not really wanting to spend more time with the condescending jerk. He wasn't a teenager or a kid. He was an adult who knew how to run a business. He kept that all inside, though, as he forced a smile. "No, sir. I don't think so. It was very loud in there. And we have the orders covered."

Brinkley grunted then shook his hand and said goodbye. Ryan watched the man for a moment before heading out to his car, ready to go home. As he approached his vehicle, he saw it leaning a little to the left. It hadn't been leaning when he'd left his car, but it was now. He moved closer and noticed the front tire was flatter than a pancake.

"Fuck." Anger twisted through him as he fought to maintain control. He glanced around, worried that someone had heard him. Now, with his father gone, he was the face of the company, and with that came responsibilities. His parents had drilled into him that their family was the face of the business, so he never could get caught cursing in public. The rules surrounding their public image was one reason his older brother, Brett, had left town. Not that Brett liked to run around cursing. No, Brett had other things his parents found objectionable, which Ryan thought was ridiculous. Now that they were gone, he hoped Brett came home, but he hadn't even shown up for the funeral.

Ryan let go a heavy sigh. So much was fucked up in his life, but even with the messed-up parts, he was doing a good job running the business. He grumbled under his breath as he pulled the spare from the back, angry that he was having to do this now. A part of him wished he was the type of man who called some car helpline and let them send someone out, but his father had drilled in directives about taking care of his car, his house, his life, and everyone else around him.

When would someone take care of him? He had been doing it all for so long that he wasn't sure if he could keep it up. Add to it the general disrespect he faced now that his father was gone, and he wanted to scream.

With the tire out from the back and the jack in place, he began the task of changing the tire as anger rose. Nothing in the last six months had gone the way he wanted. His long-time fiancée decided that fucking an Instagram model was cool. Of course, he found out when photos were posted on the model's social media page. That's when his friends called to tell him about it, or maybe rub his face into it. He didn't know which. Then, the roof of the back part of his house developed a leak. After fixing the roof, he had to tear out the drywall and replace it, then paint the room, all while running the company his father no longer seemed interested in running. The last straw had been them dying in a car wreck. At least the wreck hadn't been their fault, so he didn't have to deal with that.

Of course, Brett, his older brother, could come home to help, but he didn't want to. Ryan didn't blame Brett. He'd gotten out of Foggy Basin and built a life on the East Coast. Their parents never understood Brett leaving, but Ryan did. He would never leave this town, but Brett didn't want the same things out of life as he did.

Someone in the bar opened the door, and noise spilled out, increasing Ryan's anger. Irrational as it may be, he was angry those people were having so much fun. He spun off the last lug nut just as someone walked between the cars, coming so close that Ryan thought he was about to get stepped on.