5. A Bartender to Cry on

Hailey snagged her third fancy shrimp hors d'oeuvre off the cute waiter's tray. She'd keep up her flirty smiles as long as he kept her fed, but as sparse as the eats were, he had a challenge on his hands.

A slight, dark-haired woman wearing a glittery silver dress and glasses approached. "Hey, Hailey. You look great! Love the red on you." She leaned in for a stiff hug. "I was afraid you might not come."

Hailey flashed her a grin, unaffected by the awkward display that suited the holiday party's stuffy atmosphere. "And miss the extravaganza being footed by Mesa County for a change? No way! This is my only shot at gorging myself on all these yummy appetizers this entire holiday season." She hadn't meant for the remark to make her sound so … pathetic. Fortunately, Ashley didn't seem to register Hailey's self-inflicted insult.

"Well, it was our turn," Ashley demurred as though she'd had a hand in the party planning. Ashley worked in Mesa County's Public Health Department, and as Hailey's counterpart in the larger neighboring county—with a larger budget to match—Ashley's only involvement had been reading the when and where to show up.

Ashley took a dainty sip of her seltzer. "Are you driving back to Montrose after the party? The weatherman said we're in for more snow."

"No, I need to tackle my Christmas shopping, so I booked a room at the Holiday Inn for tonight." A splurge to be sure, especially since Hailey only had Kaylee to shop for. But lolling in a fluffy bed she didn't have to make had appealed, and now she didn't have to brave a snowstorm, at night, to return to her dreary apartment.

Ashley nodded, and Hailey rushed to fill the dead air. "How are things in the luxury of the Grand Junction department?" Oops! Hailey had let her workspace envy show.

Ashley snorted in response. "Luxury? Hardly. More like crowded and chaotic. Believe me, you're better off where you are. Fewer people equals fewer headaches."

Fewer people also meant fewer dollars in the budget, which resulted in the dinky, drafty space Hailey shared with one half-time admin and Cliff Meissner—her pseudo part-time assistant. The Grand Junction office was akin to staying at the Four Seasons instead of Motel One.

Hailey pressed her lips together to keep from adding, "And are you quitting anytime soon so I can take your place?" Sure, she'd be a smaller fish in a bigger pond there, but a bigger pond meant more opportunity to swim—definitely a step up the ladder.

Instead, she said, "At least you guys have the staff to help out the smaller counties. We're so backed up it makes me wish I was hourly."

Ashley leaned in conspiratorially. "From what I hear, you're not suffering pay-wise and you've got a hot new assistant to divvy up the workload." She roved excited eyes over the Double Tree ballroom. "Is he coming tonight?"

Hailey wasn't sure which of Ashley's suppositions surprised her more.

"He didn't mention it." Because I didn't ask. She pretended not to notice Ashley's crestfallen expression.

Cliff hadn't been Hailey's hire, nor would he have been. He'd been chosen by Dan Williams, the director at the top of the county's public health hierarchy, for reasons that Hailey didn't get. In the last seven months, she had learned to avoid talking to Cliff about anything beyond work, and she kept even those conversations curt—mostly because he did whatever he damn well pleased while giving her a smarmy smile that triggered her retching reflex. She couldn't tell if he was leering or trying to disarm her to keep her from noticing the knife he had poised to plunge into her back. Not that she had evidence of conniving—only an intuition flashing caution signs at her. But soon none of it would be her problem because she'd laid plans to foist him onto some other department. Maybe then she could hire an assistant who actually assisted.

Ashley's attention snagged on a commotion at the ballroom's entrance. "He's here," she squeaked.

Hailey turned her head in time to see Cliff Meissner sweep in, drawing sycophants to him—including Dan Williams—like a king holding court or a politician on a campaign trail. Tall, tan, and crisp, he cut a striking figure, with thick black hair slicked back from his face. He reminded her of a fresh-out-of-college, rugged Tom Brady, with a brilliant smile as quick and as white as that belonging to the former quarterback. If Cliff was looking for fans, she was pretty sure ninety percent of the room would line up.

Ashley darted off, leaving Hailey to watch Cliff stupefy his audience and ponder why—and how—this schmoozer had wormed his way into a position obviously beneath his talents. It didn't add up. Clearly, he had ambition and no qualms about bulldozing anyone in his path. But exactly what did that path look like? More importantly, was she one of the obstructions he wouldn't hesitate to mow down?

Her intuition roared "Oh hell yes!" in her head.

Hailey tipped her wrist to check her vintage Mickey Mouse watch, one of the few meager possessions her mom had left behind and her dad hadn't pawned. An hour had dragged by as she'd made the obligatory rounds. The shrimp was gone, as was the cute waiter, and they had been her top reasons for sticking around. Besides, she could use a cocktail to smooth her sawtooth edges, and there were none to be had at this shindig. The Holiday Inn, however, had a lovely bar perfect for reading her book and sipping a chocolate martini … or two.

Before she could escape, though, she had one more person to spend fifteen minutes on: Dan Williams. She hadn't approached him yet because, while she liked the director, she didn't like the company he'd been keeping all night. He and Cliff had been chummy throughout the event, practically sewn together at the shoulders, but if she wanted to enjoy the comfy hotel room she'd paid for, she would pull up her big-girl pants and talk to both of them.

Steeling her spine, she lifted her chin a few inches and strolled toward them. When Dan spotted her, his flushed face lit up. With his crooked glasses, mop of disheveled gray hair, and shapeless blob of a body, he reminded her of an unmade bed. She wasn't tall at five foot five, but her two-inch heels brought her to his eye level. Ignoring Dan's rangier sidekick staring down his nose at her, she extended her hand, which Dan cradled between his two clammy ones.

"Hailey! Now the two most important thirds of the department are here." He glanced up at Cliff. "Isn't this nice?"

One side of Cliff's mouth curled in an oily half-smile. "Yes, very nice." Hailey's suddenly greasy insides slid over each other as Cliff scanned her from her red pumps to her side-swept do, pausing in between on the spaghetti straps tied in bows on her bare shoulders. Where had she left her wrap?

Dan released her hand, the smile fading from his face. "I'm so glad you're both here. Hailey, Cliff and I have been talking …" He paused to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I realize this isn't the best time, but I don't know how soon we'll all be together again in person, and we have a few things to discuss." He let out a braying sound that could have been a nervous laugh. "Why don't we step out for a moment?"

Now her slippery insides coiled into a tight knot.

With Dan at his side, Cliff led the way to a corner where the vending machines were housed, leaving her to trail behind.

They stood in an awkward triangle, with Hailey's back pressed too close to the snack machine.

Dan cast his eyes down. "So here's the thing, Hailey. You're a great little worker. Exceptional, in fact. You're my poster child for how dedication and efficiency can transform a department."

Hailey's warning systems had already come online, but now they screamed to life like a submarine under attack in a World War II movie. Was Dan building her up to knock her down? She braced herself.

He fidgeted with his glasses. "We brought Cliff in to help, and now that he's been here a while, I have a better understanding of the pressure the department's been under. It's a big workload."

As if Hailey hadn't been telling Dan that herself—for years! She was the one who'd lobbied—hard—for more inspectors. But now that Cliff was telling him the same thing, he was all ears?

Seriously?

Dan darted Cliff a look. The two men exchanged a head bob so subtle she would have missed it if she'd squinted. Then Dan slid his eyes to the side once more. "So, effective January first, we'll have a new full-time position that Cliff has agreed to step into. He will co-head your little office with you." Dan finally met her gaze and offered a wobbly smile.

She blinked. Twice. "Excuse me?"

"There will be two of us running things, Hailey," Cliff interjected, smooth as an eel's skin. "Two heads are better than one and all that."

Is this a joke? Am I having a dream, like the ones where I'm standing at the head of the class naked during a final and I just realized I haven't attended a single lecture?

"I don't understand," she blurted. "Why do we need two department heads?" Could they do that? Why would they do that? Who now had the final say in her office? Questions streaked through her mind like a meteor shower, and her mind spun so fast she nearly lost her balance.

Cliff patted her shoulder, and she instinctively shrugged it off. "Don't worry your pretty little head, Hailey." Where had she heard that before? "Dan and I have all the details worked out, and I'll fill you in next week. Why don't you run along and enjoy the party? Forget about business for now." There was that smile again—the one that dazzled so bright it hid all the calculations streaming behind it.

She splayed a hand across her belly as if it might settle the shrimp colliding in her stomach. "Cliff, would you give Dan and me a moment to talk privately?"

Cliff's smile remained fastened in place as he turned toward their chief. "Dan?"

Dan cleared his throat. "I'll join you in a minute, Cliff."

Cliff hesitated a beat before leaving, but Hailey had to hold her tongue because a hotel guest squeezed between them to get himself a soda. He looked from Dan to Hailey. "Everybody having a good evening?"

I will be after I strangle the department head. She cinched her arms across her chest. "Everything's peachy, thanks."

He likely saw the steam cloud rolling off her head because he gave her a quick nod, got his drink, and hurried away.

"Dan," she gritted out, "why wasn't I involved in this decision? This is my department and has been for far longer than Cliff's been here." In that moment, it smacked her that her so-called assistant was now her equal. How long before he became her boss?

"You'll want to take that up with HR, Hailey. I'm not sure I'm qualified to answer."

"What? You're the head of the entire ball of wax! How are you not qualified?"

He made a calming gesture with his hands. "Please lower your voice. I can see you're upset, but trust me when I say we felt this was the best way to help you."

"Exactly who is ‘we'?" She was ninety-nine percent sure she knew the answer, but she wanted to hear Dan admit it.

Dan's battleship-gray brows knotted together. "I had to consult with other budget makers so we could find the funds for this new position. And did I mention? You're getting a five-percent bump in pay."

Not exactly answering my question. And she already knew about the raise being handed out across the board because all the county employeesknew."Exactly how much did you ‘find' in the way of funds?" How much was Cliff getting paid? Couldn't that money be used to hire real inspectors who'd pull on the latex gloves and do the actual work?

"That will be public soon, Hailey. I'm sure when things settle down, you'll see it for the positive change it is."

She stared him down for several beats in an impromptu game of chicken. He lost. "Dan, do you know of any job openings similar to mine in any other counties that haven't been posted yet?"

His eyes widened behind his glasses. "I thought you loved it in Montrose. You're doing such a great job, and you're always saying how beautiful you find the San Juans."

When I'm looking at them, not driving through them in a blizzard to reach a four-block town with a population of a hundred.

"You've probably also heard me mention how much I'd like to get assigned to an office on the Front Range so I can be closer to my sister, like Colorado Springs or Boulder or Loveland. I would even be willing to look at something outside of public health." She was still reeling, still processing the bombshell, and wasn't sure if she'd stepped over the wrong line in the game of office politics, but she didn't care.

That wasn't true. She did care because she wanted—no, she needed this job. It was the foundation on which her dreams, her entire future rested.

"But your degree is in Biology," he pointed out. "You belong in health."

Score one for Dan. She didn't relish the idea of working in the clerk and recorder's office or getting a law degree to become part of the court system.

"Hailey, you're a valuable member of our team, and we don't want to lose you. We're trying to help you." His mouth curved into a sympathetic smile. "You've got the rest of the weekend to let things settle. When you come back Monday, you'll see everything through fresh eyes." He gave her arm a patronizing pat and scurried away like the milquetoast he was, leaving her standing in front of the vending machines as if she were guarding them.

As she watched his back disappear, it occurred to her that he had thrown around a lot of we's, and she still didn't know who they were. She got the sinking feeling those we's were stacked against her.

Hailey entered her hotel's lobby unprepared to head to her room, where the quiet she had craved would simply remind her how alone she was. The bar, awash in a deep amber glow, beckoned, and she stepped inside its cozy interior and pulled in a deep breath. The tables were filled with couples, and a comforting burble thrummed through the place.

She slid onto an open barstool in the far corner where she could disappear into the background. She slipped off her coat and tugged a gold-threaded ivory wrap around her shoulders—last year's Christmas gift from Kaylee.

Scrolling through her phone, she double-checked the money in her savings account and sighed. No one had secretly gifted her millions, her dollars hadn't gotten together and produced lots of little dollars, and the bank wasn't paying an interest rate in the bajillions. In other words, the balance was pretty much the same as yesterday.

A bartender signaled he'd be right with her, so she tapped out a text to Kaylee. Can u talk? Her phone rang in predictable fashion.

"Is everything okay?" Her sister's voice held a note of panic.

"My life sucks."

"You're supposed to be at a Christmas party," Kaylee accused.

"I was, but the county public health director dropped a doozy on me." She quickly explained the upcoming change.

"Who does that at a Christmas party?" her sister huffed, lifting Hailey's spirits an inch. Kaylee always had her back.

The sound of a man's voice had Hailey asking where her sister was.

"Oh, um, just out for the evening," Kaylee stammered.

"Oh crap! I'm sorry, Kayl. It never occurred to me—"

"That I'd be out on a date?" Kaylee replied dryly.

"No. I mean, yes. I mean … I didn't even know you liked men. Is he standing right there? Oh wait. Are you out with a man or …?"

"Of course I'm out with a man," Kaylee squawked. "And no, he left to use the little boys' room."

"You're such a teacher." Hailey snort-laughed.

"Why would you think I'm out with someone who's not a man?"

"I don't know. You never had a boyfriend that I recall, and with the way we grew up … Let me put it this way: Pop could cure any girl of an attraction to the male of the species."

"True, but there's our sperm donor and then there's all other men. They're not in the same category," she huffed. "Besides, I was too busy raising you to find time for a love life."

Until you up and left me.Though Hailey held back the harsh words, that tender spot still stung. Then her emotions rubber-banded, and she felt small and spiteful for the unspoken sentiment.

She shifted gears. "Do you like this guy, Kayl? Where did you meet him?"

"Here he comes, so real quick," Kaylee whispered, "his name is Vince, he's a teacher at a different school, and yes, I like him. He's wonderful."

Hailey pulled the phone away to stare at it. She'd never heard her sister gush about someone—about anything—before. When Kaylee called her name through the speaker, she quickly put the device to her ear. "I've got to go, Hail, but I want you to think about the reasons why you took this job in the first place. Maybe they don't count anymore, and you'll figure it out with a little analysis. Then again, you might find they matter a lot, which could be rejuvenating."

They exchanged good-byes, and Hailey stared at a snuggly couple at one of the tables, so lost in their own intimate bubble that the world beyond didn't exist. She was happy for her sister, but a pang of loneliness sank a claw into her chest.

"Why's a pretty lady like you looking so glum?"

She looked up into the face of a bartender with a dimpled smirk tipping his lips. Propping her elbow on the bar top, she rested her chin in her palm. "Reality just yanked my fantasy rug out from under me. I discovered—again—that I can't quit my job yet."

"Ah. I can definitely sympathize. I usually fix myself a cocktail so I can find a new reality. Can I get you one?"

"A new reality or a cocktail?"

A warm laugh rumbled through him. "I'm afraid my superpower only goes as far as cocktails."

She glanced up at the bottles behind him. "How about a shot of your best reposad0?" His eyebrows tapped the messy blond waves along his hairline. "No, scratch that. I shouldn't be ordering anything that expensive. How about a house margarita instead? That way if it's really crappy tequila, it won't matter as much."

Normally, she was a vodka girl, but when times got tough, tequila became her go-to.

"Beautiful and logical. You got it." His dimples deepened with his widening grin, which he then turned on a trio of girls on the other side of the bar. The stars in their eyes broadcast how swoon-worthy they found the guy. Was it really that easy?

As Hailey watched his hands fly over the drink fixings, her sister's words floated through her head. What had motivated her to become a food inspector? It wasn't as if the profession topped every little girl's wish list. Her childhood aspirations had included astronaut, actress, and anthropologist. And those were only the A's.

She rewound the time machine to the point where she'd struck off on the path she now followed. It started when she'd chosen Biology as her college major. When she'd graduated with that shiny degree, though, she had been faced with few job prospects unless she went for a higher degree. She'd had neither the funds nor the steam to go for initials behind her name, so she'd taken a hard pass on that option.

While wallowing in Denver at Kaylee's, she'd become intrigued with teaching. Her sister was a tenured elementary teacher with great benefits, a fat pension if she stuck it out, and several months off each year. The stability and security of a government job—with an annual break—became Hailey's new aspiration.

But then reality had reared its ugly head again. She needed a teaching certificate, which meant more education, and there was that other niggling detail: teachers didn't earn much, and Hailey had a big dream to fund.

"Why not look for a state job where you can put your degree and past experience to work?" Kaylee had said one day.

Hailey had stumbled across a position as a food inspector in Delta, and that's when her way forward had become clear. She had worked at restaurants for over a decade—as a teen to support herself and her father and later to finance her education—and she knew kitchens. She'd applied for the job and landed it. Then she'd worked hard, making herself invaluable as she took on more responsibility. The compensation followed. When Montrose had advertised an opening to head their department, she'd gone for it—another step up the ladder to the land of bigger and better. Except tonight a few rungs had been sawed in half.

With a sigh, she pulled up her reading app, ready to submerge herself in a pretend life that was way better than her own.

The bartender chose that moment to deliver her drink. "A Ben's Special. Give it a try."

A glance at his name tag revealed his name was, unsurprisingly, Ben. "I get the Ben part, but what makes the drink special?"

"I added a little this, a little that. Masks the crappy tequila." He flashed another easy smile.

She swiped at the rim with the tip of her tongue and swallowed a satisfying burst of tartness and salt. "Oh, nice job, Ben. And exactly what I needed."

His eyes flared with something resembling lust. "Glad to know I could be of service. You let me know if there's anything else you need." He sent her a knowing wink. "I'm off at eleven."

Oh, this guy was good. "Thanks. If I do, you'll be the first one I tell."

As he walked away, the three women nearly fell off their barstools ogling his ass. It was a nice ass, she'd give him that, but that was all she'd give him. The offer gave her ego a much-needed booster shot, and while it was tempting, her answer would be the same as always: no. Bartenders probably hooked up all the time, and she wasn't interested in being another desperate bar groupie—even if she was, in fact,desperate.

The scene brought to mind a smoking-hot bartender with an equally enthusiastic fan club who shook a mean drink in Fall River—a place she had yet to return to. The town's neglected buildings with their faded lap siding often danced through her mind, leaving her with a weird desire to revisit the place whose shine had worn off long ago. Sadly, she'd lost her chance when the town's inspections, including the Miners Tavern, had been shifted to Dolores County. The bar had passed without any derogatory notes, leaving her with an unexpected frisson of relief.

Ben gave her a side-eye—being a good barkeep, he was probably checking her drink, right?—and she quickly returned to her reading app. Unable to focus on the story she'd found so engrossing before her world imploded, she turned her attention to an overhead TV showing a late hockey game that featured the Blizzard, her favorite Colorado team. God, she loved watching their games—and a few of their players she was crushing on—but even the hot and sweaty hunks couldn't distract her from her dismal future.

At least Kaylee's life was brightening. Could this Vince guy be her sister's soul mate? And if he was, would that mean Hailey rode in the backseat from now on? Selfishly, her mind wandered to whose shoulder she would cry on.

A giggle burst from the woman half of the cozy couple, and the way the man looked at her nearly made Hailey weep with want.

Ben snagged her attention with a chin lift. "Need anything?"

Yes, your shoulder to cry on.She might not want all that Ben offered, but she could sure use that one body part. Bartenders were good at that stuff. They had an uncanny ability to get people to open up—metaphorically speaking. Did they learn that skill as they gained experience, or were they already predisposed? It was the age-old chicken-before-the-egg question.

The urge to suck down a second drink bloomed inside her, but she resisted. "No, thanks. I'm ready to cash out."

She didn't miss the disappointment in his features. If she were ever lucky enough to find that one special guy, the encounter would be big and bold and dramatic. A real knock-her-off-her-feet experience. Definitely not a hookup with some hot barkeep.