Chapter 174: Ghosts of the Past

Chapter 174: Ghosts of the Past
Nina’s POV
Just then, my phone rang. An unknown number flashed on the screen.
My heart lurched, and I nearly dropped the phone. Was it the police? Had they discovered something? Or worse, had Raymond's people tracked me down?
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, forcing myself to breathe. I was Tara now, not Nina. Even if they connected Nina to Raymond, there was no way they could trace her to me. What was I afraid of?
After this mental pep talk, I answered the call.
A man's voice came through the speaker. "Hi, this is Tyler. I asked you out for dinner at the bar yesterday, but you never gave me an answer."
I exhaled in relief. Just Tyler.
He hadn't recognized me at all. I didn't know whether to feel relieved or insulted. This man had slept with me once, yet he had no idea who I was. The old Nina must have been nothing more than a mistake to him, just another poor, ugly girl he'd rather forget.
The thought stung more than I wanted to admit. To him, I had been forgettable. Disposable.
"I already turned you down last night," I said coolly.
"Interesting," Tyler replied with a laugh. "No girl in this town has ever said no to me. So tell me, what do I need to do to change your mind about dinner?"
I gripped the phone tighter. "No means no. I'm busy right now. If there's nothing else, I need to go."
Before he could respond, I hung up.
I stood there for a moment, staring at the phone in my hand. The nerve of this man. He had no idea he was talking to the same girl he'd used and discarded years ago. The same girl whose heart he'd broken without a second thought.
I returned the jewelry to the safe, though I hadn't figured out a better hiding place yet. It was already four in the afternoon, and the bar would open soon. For now, I tucked the items in a cabinet downstairs. It seemed safer than keeping them in my bedroom, at least temporarily.
When I arrived at the bar, I focused on the final touches of the renovation. I wanted to preserve some of Willowbend's traditional charm while giving the place a younger, more modern vibe. New lighting fixtures cast a warm glow over the polished wood surfaces. The old jukebox still stood in the corner, but now it was surrounded by sleek bar stools and contemporary artwork.
Around eight that evening, Tyler showed up with several of his wealthy friends in tow.
He walked straight over to me with an easy smile, his eyes sweeping over the renovated space. "Tara, the place looks amazing. You have excellent taste."
In his eyes, I was just Tara from New York. Fashionable, sexy, sophisticated. Nothing like Nina at all.
"Thanks," I said, keeping my tone pleasant but distant. "Can I get you guys something to drink?"
"How about you join us for a drink first?" Tyler leaned against the bar, his gaze lingering on me. His confidence was almost suffocating. "Come on, just one. I promise I'm good company."
I smiled politely, the same smile I'd perfected in New York. "I appreciate the offer, but I need to work. This is my bar, after all."
"All work and no play," Tyler teased, tilting his head. "You're breaking my heart here, Tara."
One of his friends laughed loudly from their table. "Dude, I can't believe there's actually a girl who won't fall at your feet!"
Another chimed in, slapping the table. "This is priceless! Tyler Mason, shot down twice in two days!"
"Wait until the guys back home hear about this," a third one added, grinning widely. "The great Tyler Mason, rejected by the new girl in town."
"Maybe you're losing your touch, man," the first friend continued, enjoying Tyler's discomfort.
Tyler turned to his friends with a mock wounded expression before looking back at me. "See what you're doing to my reputation?"
"I'm sure you'll survive," I replied, keeping my professional smile in place.
He studied me for a moment, then straightened up with a determined look. "Alright, how about this? Drinks are on me tonight. Let's celebrate the most beautiful bar owner Willowbend has ever had. This town's lucky to have you."
His friends cheered and raised their glasses. I nodded my thanks, grateful for the business even if I had no intention of accepting his invitation. Money was money, and Tyler's group ordered round after round as the night wore on.
I watched them from behind the bar, these privileged boys who'd never known what it meant to struggle. Tyler held court at their table, telling stories that made his friends laugh and ordering top shelf liquor like it meant nothing.
Tyler and his friends stayed until closing time. By then, he was completely drunk, barely able to stand on his own. One of his friends had to drape Tyler's arm over his shoulder.
"Come on, man. Let's get you home," the friend said, half carrying Tyler toward the door.
I watched through the window as they stuffed Tyler into the backseat of a car, his head lolling against the window. He looked pathetic, nothing like the confident boy who'd broken my heart all those years ago.
I let out a cold laugh, shaking my head. I couldn't believe I'd once cried over a man like him. The old Nina had wasted so many tears on someone who didn't deserve a single one.
The next morning, I headed to the fish market to stock up for Friday night, which would bring more customers than usual. The market was busy, filled with vendors calling out their catches and customers haggling over prices. The smell of fresh seafood mixed with salt air.
I was inspecting some fresh catches, checking the eyes and gills like my father had taught me years ago, when a familiar voice cut through the morning air.
"So you're Tara?"
I looked up to find Vivian standing there, her chin raised in that arrogant way I remembered so well. She wore expensive clothes and carried herself like she owned the world.
My blood ran cold, then hot with anger. I would never forget her face. Never forget how she'd almost kicked June when my little sister was just trying to help me. Never forget her cruel laughter and the way she'd looked down at me.
She'd been the reason I lost my chance to play softball, the reason I lost my scholarship to Ole Miss. One moment of standing up to her bullying had cost me everything.
Her life had gone on without consequence. The scar on her forehead from when I'd pushed her that day, the one that had gotten me suspended, had faded completely. No mark remained to show what she'd done to me. Meanwhile, I'd lost everything.
Despite the rage burning in my chest, I kept my expression neutral and curious.
"Who are you?" I asked.