2. Cleo

2

CLEO

"Thanks for coming, everybody." I waved to the strange collection of book club members as I grabbed the paper plates from around the center of the shop.

Stacking plastic cups, Daryl walked around the circle of chairs. "Did you read the book this time?"

Once I heard the front door close, watching an eight-month-pregnant Zoey waddle out onto the curb, I shook my head. "I didn't have the time. We got a shipment of new releases that needed to be put out."

Daryl shrugged. "Fair enough. So I guess that means you didn't have time to go on that date with Leah's friend?"

Turning away from her, I rolled my eyes. She'd been desperate to set me up ever since she got all booed up with Leah last summer. But if I didn't have time to read the book club novel, I certainly didn't have time for a date.

"Sadly, no. Although she sounds great. I just don't know if I have time right now." I shrugged.

Daryl tossed the dirty cups in the garbage and leaned against the counter. "Cleo, you're in your thirties and have your own business. When do you expect to find time?"

Raising an eyebrow, I eyed her. "Like you're one to talk. You didn't find someone until you were fifty."

With a sigh, Daryl groaned. "You are very irritating."

"You think everyone is irritating." I winked.

Clicking her tongue, Daryl stood up straight. "Look, it's your life. I just think you want a partner in all of this and you're too wonderful of a person to not get that."

I almost laughed at her sincerity, it was wildly unlike Daryl to actually care but maybe Leah was having an impact.

After saying her goodbyes, Daryl walked herself out and the shop fell silent. I let out a sigh as I looked around. Everything was in order, at least as close to order as Cleo's Shelf ever was.

Checking my phone, I realized I needed to start closing up if I had any hope of meeting Bri for drinks on time. I grabbed my keys and started to shut off the lights as I meandered through the store. Once I made it to the front, I scanned the store before walking outside and locking the glass door.

Cricket's was only a ten-minute walk from my shop on Main Street. It wasn't a walk most people would love at night but I'd grown up in New Winford so it was more relaxing than terrifying.

I put in my headphones, letting them blare into my ears with sapphic indie pop. My prairie skirt flowed in the late July air as I walked down a steep hill toward the bar. Cricket's, one of New Winford's only bars, was located just on the edge of a horse farm. Off of Main Street, the bar was basically in the woods.

It only took about three songs before I was walking up to the front door, my feet making the old wood steps creak.

"Did you seriously walk again?" Bri called through the lot, shaking her head.

Turning to look at my friend, I shrugged. "It's barely even evening." The crickets would have disagreed with me, but the sun was still setting over the mountain as it neared 8 pm.

Bri groaned as she hugged me from the side. "You're ridiculous. I'm driving you home."

It was an argument we'd have later, once we'd gotten our bitching session over with. Between Bri's work for Victoria Bradley and her budding romance with Sarah Greenwood, there was a lot to discuss.

I pushed open the door to Cricket's, a flood of country music and neon lights washing out onto the old porch.

The entrance was clear enough for us to push inside and find a spot right at the bar right by the door, but the dance floor was starting to fill up with line dancers.

Sliding into my stool, I waved down the bartender, Kyle. Once I had his attention, he wiped off the counter on the other end of the bar and made his way toward us.

"Hiya, what can I get you?" Kyle smiled, happy to see his regulars.

Bri clicked her tongue. "I'll take a draft, your choice."

Nodding, Kyle turned to me. "And for you?"

"Whiskey, neat. Please." I rested my chin on my palm and leaned against the sticky counter.

Kyle was already walking away when Bri turned to me with a raised eyebrow. "That's a little heavy, everything okay?"

I took in a deep breath, letting the stale air of our small town bar fill my lungs. Considering how I wanted to answer, I tried to get in touch with myself. I wasn't entirely sure why I felt so heavy today. But here I was, ordering a whiskey and feeling like my chest might burst with frustration.

"I'm honestly not sure." I let the deep breath out. Shaking it off, I gently smiled at Bri. "How are you holding up?"

Bri was about to slam her forehead into the bar but Kyle placed her glass right in the smack zone. Instead, she nodded her thanks and took a sip. "Good. The table is kicking my ass but seeing Sarah is… nice." Her cheeks flushed pink as the words left her lips.

"Good." I giggled as I took a swig of my whiskey. As she talked, catching me up on all things Sarah, my eyes wandered to the TV set over the ball. There were a couple, most of them playing men's sports. But one of them was playing the highlights of what looked like the National Women's Softball Championships.

I scanned the field for a familiar number but twenty-three never appeared.

After a moment, Bri could tell she'd lost me. So she followed my gaze to the TV and sighed. "Okay. Can I please set you up?"

"Why does everyone want that so badly?" I shook my head, using my drink's small, back straw to stir the amber elixir. "I'm busy with the store, and the league, and my family. I don't need anyone else."

Raising her hands in surrender, Bri nodded. "I know. I don't mean anything by it. I just wish you weren't still hung up on that loser." She tilted her chin toward the TV.

My body tensed at the words. "I'm not hung up on Cat." Even just saying her name made my blood boil. I reached for my drink and let the whiskey burn my throat as it traveled into my lungs, warming me from the inside out.

Trying to change the topic, Bri slapped the counter. "Did you hear about Jessica?"

"No." I laughed, already excited for whatever tea Bri had for me.

Before I knew it, Bri was launching into a long diatribe about the last recreation softball game and how Jessica had been a sore loser at Wagner's after when the teams grabbed lunch.

We stayed like that for a couple of hours, until Bri felt sober enough to drive and I was tired of watching all the people who had been good enough to actually qualify for the major softball leagues.

Throwing our tip on the bar, Bri and I walked into the parking lot. "Get in my truck." Bri insisted.

But I stopped in my tracks and felt the cool breeze that blew through the trees on a hot summer night. "I'd really rather walk."

Rolling her eyes, Bri sighed. "Fine, but text me when you're home."

"Of course." I gave her a hug and headed back up the huge hill to my apartment on Main Street. New Winford was one of the safest towns in the country, our crime rate was only risen by rebellious teenagers trying to flip extra cash for some weed.

I took in the fresh summer air, letting it fill my whiskey-warm lungs. But every time I blinked, I saw that bastard's face.

It's not that I was hung up on her . I was hung up on how she left . It was cruel and all for her to just throw her career in the toilet after an injury. More than anything, I thought it was embarrassing for her.

But I never wanted to see her face again. I knew that for sure.