Catalyst Read Free Page A

here knows about my sad story and feels the need to “help out,” even when it isn’t what’s best for the business, my business. Noah always closes when he works.
    “Why?” I ask, knowing the answer.
    “He said he needed the extra cash and offered. I figured it would be good to get you home, so I agreed. It’s not what you think. We know you’re not going to break,” Noah attempts to confirm, but his hazel eyes are screaming pity for me. He tries to hide it, but it doesn’t work. I know him too well.
    “Rodney! You’re a lifesaver,” I yell way too loud. My ears are pounding and everyone is now staring at me, the crazy lady who’s about to pass out from drunkenness and exhaustion. When Noah stays in front of me lingering instead of helping an older woman three stools down, I tell him, “I’m not going to break, you ass.” I scoff and keep my eyes straight ahead.
    If I keep saying it, maybe it’ll come true.
    Noah comes straight back to me after he gets the woman a vodka cranberry and continues on. “Uh-huh. So are you ever going back to Seasons 23? Josephine called me the other day and asked about you.” Noah leans in close. “They need an authoritative figure over there. At least keep me informed so I can delegate and keep the ship afloat.”
    I don’t know what to say. My routine for the past four years was to spend at least one full day a week at each of my three bars, just to see how everything was running. Then I would disperse the rest of my time between meeting with new distributors, making sure we were utilizing the newest techniques and flavor combinations, and overall, just being around for my workers. I cringe at how my routine has changed. It took me a few weeks to find a suitable apartment, and all it did was enable me to be even more of a recluse. In that time, I’ve only visited two of my three bars once. Seasons 23 was where—was where it happened. I purposely avoid the street it’s on just so I don’t have to be near it. Physically, I don’t think I can go in there again.
    “I might sell Seasons,” I say as calmly as possible while I wait for his reaction.
    “What! Why? It was your first. Your baby.”
    I give him an incredulous look.
    “I mean I obviously know why. But why not be a silent owner or whatever? Like a silent investor, but with you still being the big boss and shit.” Noah always sees the bigger picture. Right now, though, I’d rather turn out the lights.
    “I’ll never be able to step inside there again.” I sigh in defeat and pain. I won’t ever forget seeing poor Liam’s bloodied body with two gunshot wounds to the chest in that small room.
    “Will you at least let me look over it for you? I love Josephine and all, but I don’t trust her to keep things in order.”
    “If you want. Fine by me. Why don’t you like her?” She’s always been sweet and professional around me.
    “Her lover’s quarrels. She’s always with the wrong dudes, and after they break up, it seems like the fights always happen there in front of customers.”
    “No shit?”
    “Yep. Remember that busted lip from a few months ago?”
    “You said it was some drunk biker who was threatening our staff.” I remember vividly. My bars were classy enough to avoid fights. Or so I thought.
    “Our staff, meaning Josephine, had gone on three dates with the guy before she switched and hooked up with his friend. Please, please let me start looking after it for you. She’s our best bartender, and as long as she stays in line, we’re good.” He’s all business now, and I can see the passion that gives me my answer.
    “Sure,” I throw out, and he gives me back a sly grin like he’s just won a huge prize.
    “They’ve, like, cleaned it up and all, right?” Noah suddenly backtracks. My throat closes up and tears threaten to spill.
    After a moment of remembering the detectives talking to me about how they’d collected all the evidence they needed, I nod slightly. I hired some company