Turnaround by Cassandra Carr Page A

Valentine’s haters turned up.
    Becca approached the bar once more and James
nearly ran over one of the other guys to get to her. The man smirked. Whatever,
dude. You’re too clueless to even recognize a good woman when you see her.
    “Parched?”
    She laughed. “Something like that.”
    “Stoli and cranberry?”
    “Wow. Considering how many people are in this
place tonight, I’m impressed.”
    “I pay attention.”
    Her eyebrows rose. “Clearly you’re good at your
job.”
    “This is actually a second job. I do graphics
for a marketing company during the day.”
    For some reason he had a compulsion to let her
know he was more than a guy slinging drinks at a hole-in-the-wall bar. There
was nothing wrong with that–it was an honest living–but Becca looked like a
career woman and he wanted her to realize he was on the same path.
    “Really? Which one? I’m in PR for Computer
Technology Consultants.”
    “McBain Group,” he answered, naming one of the
area’s largest agencies.
    “Huh. Great company. I’m surprised we’ve never
met. Austin is a surprisingly small town.”
    He wanted to stay to talk to her more, but Mick
was giving him the evil eye. On a whim he pulled a business card out of his
wallet and handed it to her.
    “I have to get back to the masses, but I’d love
to hear more about you. Call me.” Considering tonight’s event, asking her out
could well be a waste of time, but he hoped not. “As friends. No pressure.”
    She nodded slowly. “What do I owe you?”
    “It’s on me. I hope you have a good night.”
    “It’s looking up.”
    Mick cleared his throat behind him and he rolled
his eyes in response. Becca smirked before moving back into the throngs of
people.
    James tried to track her through the rest of the
night, but it was difficult since the bar was packed. Who knew this many
people hated Valentine’s Day? He’d only been working at The Ale House for
about six months, ever since his mom’s auto accident had forced him to seek
additional income. She had Medicaid, but her injuries had been extensive, requiring
daily home care and physical therapy, much of which wasn’t covered by her
insurance.
    At first James had tried to pay for it out of
his savings, but the funds had quickly dwindled. His mom felt terrible about
him working two jobs but he loved her. What was he going to do? Deny her the
help she needed? His dad had died two years earlier of a sudden heart attack
and his sister Michele lived in Houston with her husband and four kids. She
sent money and visited when she could, but the onus was on James.
    His phone buzzed and he smiled. Probably Mom.
Her ears must be burning . It would be a couple of minutes before he could
check the phone, but it was more than likely her. She checked in three or four
times a day now so he wouldn’t worry, usually over text so she didn’t disturb
him.
    When he was able to steal into the break room,
he found he was right.
    Going to bed. Happy Valentine’s Day, hon. Don’t
work too hard.
    James quickly thumbed back: I’m not. Sleep
well. Pocketing the phone, he went back out front.
    When he searched her out, James found Becca
staring off into space, frowning. He hated seeing her unhappy; he hated seeing
all these women so bitter. They all appeared ready to give up on love. Not for
the first time James wished people paid more attention to their relationships.
Several of his friends were already on their second or even third marriages.
James had no interest in that. When he proposed, it would be forever. That
probably explained his single status, but he’d rather be single and looking for
a woman to love than married and miserable.
    She turned toward him and he nodded, not sure if
he should do or say anything more. This whole not knowing how to talk to women
thing was new to James, and he blamed it entirely on this stupid party.
Normally he didn’t have this much trouble relating to women. Becca smiled and
held up her still half-full glass.