No More Waiting, She Chooses Love

When Haley fell into the trap, I thought things would be straightforward. But acquiring the bar wasn't as simple as making an offer. The place was thriving, buzzing with patrons every night. Why would they even consider selling? I needed a different approach. I could easily rope in the Wagners to smooth things over, but I was done entangling my life with theirs. So, I ended up calling Grant. After hearing me out, he quipped, "If you're looking to be the boss, I'll step down for you."

Grant was always laid-back, but this was next level. Laughing off his offer, I said, "I'm not aiming to be a boss, I just want my drinks on the house."

Grant snorted, "You could use the money you'd spend buying the bar on drinks and still not run out in a lifetime."

Despite his teasing, he seriously advised, "Felicia, don't rush into this. Owning a bar isn't all fun and games."

"I know what I'm doing. Just tell me if you can talk to the bar's owner. If not, I'll find someone else," I cut him off before he could try to dissuade me further. This wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision but a well-thought-out plan, albeit one I couldn't fully explain to Grant. The less he knew about my investigation into the Clarks, the better. Aside from the risk of leaks, I didn't want to drag anyone else into this potentially dangerous affair.

"Alright, alright," Grant conceded, "I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, Mr. Smith."

With a final snort, he hung up.

Anxiety and excitement made sleep a stranger, and I found myself wide awake for the second night in a row. It was an unfamiliar discomfort, giving me a glimpse into the torment of chronic insomnia. Yet, this sleepless state allowed me to ponder many things and take action, like picking out a gift for Dustin.

At a chic restaurant, Dustin looked surprised at the tie I handed him. "It's not my birthday, nor any special occasion today, right?"

Seeing the tie in his hands reminded

me of the collection back at his place in Houston, and the diary hidden beneath them. I wondered if he had noticed the missing ties or the tampered diary. Or perhaps, he had penned something new?

"This is a token of appreciation. Thanks for helping me find Deborah. I've met her paused, watching his reaction closely. Deborah had uncovered a secret, and I was curious if Dustin was the one she was referring to. If so, his reaction to my meeting with Deborah should be telling. But his expression remained unchanged.

Of course, if he had anything to hide, he wouldn't have given me Deborah's contact in the first place. If not Dustin, then who did Deborah uncover? "Also, thank you for taking me home from the club."

He chuckled lightly, "I thought you might not remember."

"My memory might be hazy, but my call log remembered dialing your number," I admitted with a sheepish smile, "I didn't embarrass myself, did I?"

"No, you just fell asleep. You were very well-behaved," Dustin didn't mention my drunken mistake of

calling him by another name. Henet

neatly set the tie aside, "Felicia, what were you doing at that club? And

why the heavy drinking?"

He was probing, and I managed a wry smile, "Just looking for some company. Heard the male models there were quite the lookers."

The conversation danced around the edges of our deeper investigations and personal quests, wrapped in the guise of casual banter and concealed motives.