Home > Fetching (Unleashed Romance #1)(9)

Fetching (Unleashed Romance #1)(9)
Author: Kylie Gilmore

Audrey lifts a finger. “A horseman is a man who really likes horses.”

“Half man, half horse,” Jenna declares as if that’s the final word on horseman.

Audrey tilts her head. “Isn’t that a centaur?”

“Anyway—” I start.

“And the inn part doesn’t fit either,” Audrey points out. “Now it’s just a restaurant.”

I throw my hands up. “It’s the centerpiece of town! A legacy I need to protect, okay?”

Jenna and Audrey exchange another look.

“Are you okay?” Audrey asks.

“I’m fine.” I go for my wine and toss back the rest. “Sorry I snapped at you. I’m just in a tight spot right now, but I’ll figure it out.”

“The New Year’s fundraiser wasn’t a success?” Audrey asks.

“It was, but…” I sigh. “I only made enough for this month’s debt payment, and I can’t have a fundraiser every month. I just don’t know how much longer I can keep going like this.”

Audrey squeezes my arm. “Oh, Syd, I’m so sorry.”

Jenna presses her lips together. “How bad is it?”

“I really don’t want to talk about it.” I’m embarrassed at how far into debt my father put this place. He operated at a loss for years and just kept racking up credit cards, second mortgages, and high-interest loans to keep things going. He didn’t want to be a failure in our family business and didn’t want to burden his children. My brothers and I had moved on to other vocations. I was working for a boutique advertising agency, my youngest brother Caleb is a model, Drew runs his own dojo in town, Eli’s a cop, and Adam is a master carpenter. Then our dad gave The Horseman Inn to the oldest, Drew, in his will.

Drew ran it for six months—basically working two full-time jobs—declared it a money pit and asked us if we’d be okay with him selling it. That’s when I jumped in, moving back home to protect our family legacy. I was so confident with the right marketing I could get this place going again. Turns out you need more than marketing savvy in this situation. You need money.

“Come on,” Jenna says. “It’s us. How bad is it?”

“Bad,” I say.

Jenna gives me a small shove. “Would you stop being the stoic tough one for one minute and tell us?”

“I’m not stoic and tough,” I say. “That’s Drew.”

Audrey chugs her wine.

“You’re the female version,” Jenna says. “You always want to shoulder the burden on your own.”

Like my dad. “An admirable quality.”

“But sometimes you have to let your friends help,” Jenna says.

“You’ll feel better if you share,” Audrey says.

I exhale sharply, taking in the two women I’ve known since we were young girls. These are my ride-or-die friends. I’d do anything for them. But I won’t bring them down with me. “If I miss another payment, they’ll start the foreclosure process. I’ve already missed three in a row. Every month is so stressful, not knowing if I can scrape together the payment.”

“Oh, Sydney,” Audrey says softly.

“So sorry,” Jenna says.

I put some enthusiasm into my voice. “It’s not over yet. There’s still a chance that ladies’ night and Friday trivia night can get us back on track. It’ll make this place more of a community hangout. I think the key is to give people a reason to be here and keep returning. And a lot of people have off for the holidays, probably getting antsy at home. I have a good feeling there’ll be a crowd tomorrow for trivia night.”

I don’t say a word about possibly turning to Wyatt. I need to research his business dealings and take a big dose of suck it up before approaching him.

Jenna and Audrey exchange a worried look.

“What’s the full amount you need?” Jenna asks.

An impossible number. An embarrassing number.

I shake my head. “It’ll turn around, I know it. It’s a new year, ladies.”

My friends shoot me worried looks. Yeah, I’m having trouble believing it too.

 

 

5

 

 

Sydney

It’s the day after New Year’s, which means it’s our first Friday trivia night. I’m running half-price appetizers before seven, hoping to attract more people. Trivia starts at six at the bar. Drinks are our big moneymaker. Fingers crossed that people will linger afterwards for dinner. It’s not just about putting money into the coffers—though obviously I need that—it’s about making The Horseman Inn more of a community hangout.

By the time we get started at six, I’m pleased to see we’ve got thirteen people here to play. All locals—teachers, mostly, as well as the ladies who showed up to meet Harper on New Year’s. I think they have a knitting club because they’re all knitting something while pausing to sip their margaritas and answer questions.

I’m the emcee, working to keep the energy up and people interested. I even skipped the usual staff T-shirt in favor of a white T-shirt with a rhinestone question mark I bedazzled myself. Black skinny jeans and my black high-heeled boots complete the emcee ensemble. I’d hoped to score some question-mark earrings, but no one I knew had a pair I could borrow. I’m doing this on the cheap, which means I came up with all the questions, made a little slideshow on my laptop to display the questions on the TVs over the bar, and they’re writing the answers on old-fashioned pen and paper. Five rounds of trivia. The prize is a gaudy huge gold medal necklace (fake), and everyone gets five-dollar coupons to use on their next visit. I also declared today Fajita Friday, so they’ll think of ordering fajitas, nachos, and margaritas.

The questions are all over the place, some easy, some near impossible, except for the biggest factoid-storing eggheads out there. For example: on an internet browser, what does www stand for (World Wide Web. Easy.) In Greek mythology, who was the first woman on earth? (Pandora. Difficult.)

Everyone’s gathered at the bar. My friends are here, too, which gives us three teams of five. We’re just getting to the second round when I see our hostess seat Wyatt and a beautiful brunette at a corner table in the back room across from us. I still, a sudden coldness hitting me. I didn’t know he had a girlfriend.

I can’t seem to look away. He pulls the chair out for his date before taking the seat across from her, smiling and saying something that doesn’t look remotely smirky. I guess he has good manners for some people.

He must be into her because he doesn’t even glance this way. I thought he lived to harass me. Who is she?

“Syd?” Betsy, my bartender, asks. She’s in her twenties with pink hair, multiple piercings, and a unique style that’s part retro fifties’ and part embellished modern wear. Today’s outfit is a cute fuzzy peach sweater with cropped black pants sporting sequined daisies. “You want me to do the remote for the next question?”

I stare at the remote in my hand. I forgot I was holding it. Focus! “I got it.” I turn and press the button for the next question, which I read out loud with enthusiasm. “What country consumes the most chocolate per capita?”

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