Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“Good man,” I told him.
“You look comfy,” Danielle said as she returned from the restroom, taking the seat next to me.
“Beer definitely doesn’t cure all my problems, but sitting in this bar almost does,” I said. “Thanks for meeting me.”
A country western saloon wasn’t Ori’s vibe, but I fucking loved this place. The building used to be an old independent bookstore, but when it had gone out of business, Kane had bought the place for a steal and turned it into a bar. Tall, built-in bookshelves still lined the tucked-in alcoves along the walls, reaching all the way to the ceiling. Each alcove had its own comfy booth or pool table, and the leather worked perfectly against the dark wood of the shelves.
Even the big, U-shaped bar top used to be the front counter when it was a bookstore. The bookshelves around the place now held tacked-up photos of bar regulars, as well as Hard Spot T-shirts and hats for sale.
“Did you guys see that?” Max said suddenly, pointing toward the other side of the bar. “That light by the patio was on earlier tonight. Flickered off. Now it’s back on again.”
“Tell Kane it needs to be replaced,” Danielle said, pushing back a lock of her dark hair.
Max stared at us, leaning over the bar as if he was expecting more of a reaction. He was only a few years younger than me, but he’d just graduated college and still very much acted like life was one big fraternity.
“What?” I asked.
“Haunted,” he said in a hushed tone. “This place is haunted.” He looked back down, shoveling some ice into a glass.
Danielle and I exchanged a look.
“Or maybe the light socket is faulty,” I pointed out, “because this building is a hundred years old and has been about ten other businesses before it was the Hard Spot Saloon. How ‘bout that?”
“Hey,” Max said, holding his hands up. “I’ve been working here for long enough now. Cabinets open up, when they weren’t before. Last week after my shift, the jukebox started playing a random song—”
“That jukebox is ancient, too,” I said.
“But the random song was an old blues song that mentioned a bookstore,” Max said.
Danielle leaned back, squinting at Max. “So that one line means that there’s a ghost trying to tell you… what, exactly?”
“The ghost misses when this place was a bookstore,” Max said, duh written all over his face. “Everyone loved that store. The ghost did too.”
“I miss it, sometimes,” I said. “But Kane’s made a good home of this place, too.”
“Cheers to that,” Dani said, and we clinked our glasses together.
It was true. It still had some of the bookstore charm from the built-in shelves, but Kane had transformed the place into something of his own. The Hard Spot had saloon style for days. Kane had added a set of swinging half-doors toward the back kitchen, old Western style photos all over the walls, and plenty of classic circular wood tables, perfect for poker nights.
“The ghost can haunt me as much as it wants, as long as I can keep coming here,” I said. “I could use a little excitement in my life anyway.”
“The ghost definitely doesn’t seem evil or angry,” Max said. “Maybe it’s a cat.”
Max walked off toward the back. Kane brushed past him as he walked out, carrying a wide case full of beer bottles, eyeing me and Danielle. “Shut up about ghosts, Max,” he said. “Evenin’, Finn. Nice to see you, Danielle.”
If the Hard Spot Saloon was haunted, the ghosts must have been doing something right.
And it was everything Ori hated.
I pictured him back at home—at my house—probably happy as a clam making some sort of spinach smoothie or listening to godawful experimental music that sounded like dental drills over an electronic beat.
I wished I could press rewind on the whole day.
There was so much I should have said when he got back.
And some things that I may never tell him, anyway.
“Okay,” Dani said, bringing me back to reality. “So you’re doing the coupons after Sunday’s riding lesson?”
“Got a big stack of Red Fox Diner coupons ready to go in the front seat of my truck,” I told her. “Get ready for a swarm of about kids and parents coming in to get 50% off.”
I promised Dani I’d hand out coupons for her parents’ diner after Sunday’s horse riding lesson. Mason always needed an extra hand on the ranch, and I’d volunteered to help with lessons this weekend.
Dani pulled in a breath, nodding. “Guess I’ll be selling a whole lot of chicken tenders and grilled cheese that day. I hope it’s enough.”
“The diner will be fine, Dani,” I said. “The time coming out of winter is always a little bit of a slump, isn’t it?”
She bit her lower lip. “Not always as bad as this year was. Mom and Dad just don’t like change.”