“I thought you said I’d find a new one in no time.” I narrowed my eyes at her, throwing her words back in her face.

An elbow bumped my back and I turned around to glare at the culprit.

“Excuse you,” I said to the older woman getting settled onto the barstool next to mine.

“Sorry.” She looked at me with apologetic eyes.

“You’re fine.” Mattie leaned forward and offered the woman a smile. “My sister is having an off day.” With that, she tugged at my arm and glared at me. “Can you not be so on edge right now? You almost ripped that poor lady’s head off.”

“She bumped me,” I grumbled.

“It’s a crowded bar.” Mattie’s eyes flicked to the ceiling in a silent plea for patience.

The grizzly-looking bartender showed up at that exact moment and set down another margarita in front of Mattie. She took a small sip before pushing it in my direction.

“Can we get an order of fries, too, Dave? She needs to soak this up.”

The bartender gave Mattie a small nod and punched something into the handheld device he carried around.

“I’m fine,” I argued, even though I was a complete lightweight and the two shots of tequila had already gone straight to my head. But if losing your job wasn’t a good occasion to get a little tanked, then what was? “And sorry I’m not in a hurry to tell Mom and Dad my life is over.”

“I don’t think there are any acting scouts in Key Ridge so you can lay off the melodramatic monologue.” Mattie shot me a look, and irritation bubbled in my gut—the kind that only a sister could cause.

“No,” I fired back stubbornly. “When that asshole ex of yours cheated on you and you thought your life was falling apart, I didn’t call you dramatic.”

She rolled her eyes. “Um, yeah you did. And you heavily implied I needed to move on. You’re probably half the reason I ended up in Key Ridge to begin with.”

She had a point there. Perhaps tough love ran in our family.

I took another sip of the margarita, attempting to quell the adrenaline that somehow raged inside of me. Exhaustion should have stepped in by now, but I was wound up tighter than a toy top. Apparently, I did not handle change well.

Trying to distract myself, I regarded the small, divey bar. When I told Mattie I needed a drink as soon as I exited the airport, she’d taken us here. It was the only place open right now.

The bar had sticky floors, old pool tables with ripped felt, and dartboards that currently held the interest of a small group of men who let out excited cheers every five minutes or so.

“I still can’t believe you live in a town like this,” I said, glancing back at my sister.

The Mattie who had picked me up at the airport today in her olive-green puffy jacket, beanie, and boots was a far cry from the Floridian sister I’d always known. The one who preferred to wear flip-flops well into the winter months and thought she’d freeze in fifty degrees. I had only visited her here once—for her wedding to her husband Giles—but that had been in the summer.