The Note by Natalie Wrye (urban books to read .TXT) 📗

currently pissing in my pants, then yup, I’m as ready as I will ever be…and on the verge of packing Depends™.”

She grins. “There’s nothing wrong with spending a weekend in Connecticut for a wedding.”

“If it helps, it’s the rich, over-the-top, blue blood Connecticuters that I’ll have to meet that is the part that scares me. Not the actual wedding.”

Nancy’s mouth twists, her emerald green eyes going bright. “You sure it’s not the new boyfriend part that’s scaring you most? Because if I had a man who looked at me the way that Noah looks at you, I might be in need of a pair of a Depends™.” She holds up her hands in acquiescence. “I’m just saying…”

I guess she has a point.

I haven’t been on a date in longer then I can remember, the constant need to work to make the rent squeezing out any possibility of a social life left.

I’ve been working so much I’d forgotten what a date looks like.

Struggling to make the rent in New York when you were surviving off filling drinks, taking orders and making tips didn’t provide much of a social life.

At least when drunken Wall Street bankers wandered in here from whatever hole in the wall they just exited, you knew they’d done it with one half of their hundreds still in some exotic dancer’s crotch.

But with me?

I hadn’t quite yet learned the art of being social with people, being nice to them…or even accepting their help.

And seriously, what could I expect?

With a mother who’d run off in the middle of the night and a father who was a felon, life was, for lack of a better term, rough as kid.

Living with Aunt Roberta after had been a hell of a lot better but we’d barely made ends meet during those tough years, and we’d scraped and scrambled and scrounged for every penny we could find.

It was no surprise, I guess, that my circumstances haven’t exactly changed. And I’m still thinking about them when Nancy snaps fingers in my face, bringing me back to the present.

“Earth to Soph. Come back, Soph.” She glances up at the clock. “It’s officially seven o’clock. You’re off your shift.”

“Sorry.” I apologize with a small snort. “Only I would start daydreaming in the middle of talking to my boss.”

Nancy laughs. “Soph, I know you well by now. You’re not just one of my employees. You’re also a total spaz.” She pauses for the shortest of seconds. “But you’re my spaz. And one of my closest friends.” She takes a weighty breath. “I’m just glad you decided to take the weekend off. I’m happy you’re here, that you’re dedicated to the job…” She trails off. “But sometimes, I wish you would realize how much you don’t need to be.”

And just as she opens her mouth to say something else, someone grabs her attention, pulling Nancy away.

I gaze after her, reminding myself that the strawberry blonde pixie is the meshing, the glue that keeps this bar together in the face of so many disasters.

A powerhouse who’d taken over in her co-owner’s absence, while the second location of The Alchemist opened in Chicago, Nancy was busy improving the first.

But this wasn’t the first time she’d made a comment about my position here at The Alchemist, and I was starting to doubt that the job I’d been doing would be enough.

My table side manner wasn’t the best in the bar. I usually looked a mess.

My attitude had left much to be desired after my beloved roommate left only months after moving in. Opting to live in Chicago with her fiancé (and co-owner of The Alchemist) Deacon, Kayla had left me in Manhattan minus one great friend.

And alone.

But as I venture behind the bar to grab a few items for the weekend away, I realize I’m not as alone as I’d thought.

Heading for the dimly lit Employee Only room, I open my assigned metal locker only to find my heart diving out from between my ribs when I crack the creaking paint-chipped box to shove my Alchemist apron inside, closing it quickly to find a set of blue eyes locked on mine.

I have to keep myself from jumping. I sigh.

“Drew…goddammit.”

My next door neighbor and coworker grins. “Sorry about that. Did I scare ya?”

“No, not at all. I’m used to wetting myself when strange men appear out of dark corners in the back of the bar where we work. Yes, you freaking scared me.” I glance around the rest of the darkened room, the deep green walls seemingly closing in on us as I hiss. “What are you doing here? You’re not on shift.”

“Well, I left an extra box of condoms here last night. This morning I ran out.”

“Shocker.”

“I was going to bite the bullet, you know. Buy another box? But then I heard that Nancy was in and out today and I figured it would a great time to grab them before the Hell-Beast came back here.”

“Hell-beast?” I shut the door to my locker, turning on Drew. “Now it’s this? The insults. The arguing. I don’t get it,” I hiss.

“Me neither.” Drew bites his lips. “I still blame the stick up her nether-regions.”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly talking about that, but you would know about ‘sticks in nether-regions,’ being an expert at ‘stick-giving’ from what I hear all the way across the hall…”

He pauses. “Did you just pay me a compliment, Fee?”

“More like an observation. A very disturbing observation.” I shudder. “But don’t get used to it. I’ll be back to telling you to kiss my ass by morning.”

“Duly noted.”

I slap his arm, sending Drew on his way. His low laughter still reaches me from the other side of the room, as he turns, catching my ear, his subsequent words stopping me in my tracks in seconds.

“So, I snuck in the back door about five minutes ago. And noticed that someone was lurking back there.”

I lift a brow. “You sure it wasn’t one of the women you used those on? Or have you lost