Briar
I had a shift at the bar in the afternoon. Paxton, the assistant manager, was engaged in a tense conversation with a man who had salt and pepper hair. My blood ran cold as I approached the bar.
“No,” I whispered.
I ducked and veered off into the employees-only area.
“What is Elijah doing here?” I hissed.
“Briar Rose, what are you doing?” Elena asked, hand on hip, majestic black hair dangling over her shoulder.
She caught me peeking out of the circle in the door.
“I’m spying on an old man.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “What? Don’t you have a shift to start?”
I grabbed her wrist and dragged her away from the front door. She had a voice that travelled for miles.
“I don’t want him to see me. He’s a jackass.”
Her eyes twinkled with the new bit of information. “Let me get a g
