She nods and goes off to pour the drink.
I look over the menu and decide on a burger and some fries, not wanting anything too heavy so early in the day. When the bartender comes back with my drink, I place my order. The TV above the bar is playing an old football game and, even though I’m not much of a sports guy, I watch it while I wait for my food, but the bartender is back and demanding my attention.
She bends over and rests her arms on the bar, giving me a clear view down her shirt. “You’re not from around here, are you?” She offers up a flirtatious smile.
I shake my head. “No, New York.”
Her eyes grow wide. “New York? What are you doing in this little town, then?”
“I’m opening the new hotel. Just coming in to check things out and see how everything is going.”
Her smile gets wider. “Oh, you must be Mr. Billings. There’s been a lot of talk about you lately.”
“Is that so?” I ask, growing bored with the conversation.
“Mmmm-hmm,” she says with a nod. “That new hotel is causing a lot of excitement around here.”
“Good. I’m glad to see the townspeople are so willing to welcome me with open arms. I’m hoping it draws more tourists into town.”
“I think we all are,” she says, batting her long, dark lashes.
After a little more boring chit-chat and ignored flirting, a waitress brings over my food and I’m finally able to eat in peace. With my mouthful, there is no talking, and after a while the bartender finally gets the hint and goes back to work. I let out a sigh of relief.
While I date plenty, I have no plans of changing mysinglestatus any time soon. Most of the women I date are classy and have money of their own. It makes it easier to know who’s dating me for the right reasons, although I have run into some gold diggers even with my current dating strategy. I know without a doubt though that the bartender isn’t interested in me, but what she thinks I can offer her: she sees money, an easy ride, and a way to get out of working a minimum-wage job. That kind of attention, I like to avoid.
After lunch, I leave the hotel and climb into my rental. I still have a few minutes to kill so I stop at my buddy’s studio and walk in. Evan is hard at work, throwing some paint on a canvas.
“Hey,” I shout as I’m walking closer.
He spins around and smiles. “Shepard, what are you doing here?” he asks, heading toward me.
“Taking care of some hotel business. How are you?” He pulls me in for a quick, one-armed hug.
“I’m good. I wish you would’ve told me you were coming by. I would’ve cleared out the day for you.”
I wave him off. “It wasn’t planned. I just have a few minutes to kill before meeting up with the party planner at the hotel.”
“Party planner, huh? You throwing a party?”
I nod. “Yes, inviting everyone in town. It’s just a way to let the townspeople see the hotel, meet me, and get a better sense of what I’m planning on doing here. A lot of people have it in their heads that I’m trying to put the ski resort out of business, when all I’m really doing is helping them by being able to hold more people.”
“Right, I’ve been trying to tell people that. I think they’ll catch on eventually.”
“I hope so. What are you working on?”
“Oh,” he says, looking over his shoulder at the canvas he was working on. “It’s just a piece I’m doing. I’ve made it into Life and Beauty Magazine. I’m their featured artist for the month and I wanted to highlight something new.”
“That’s awesome, man,” I say, excited for him.
He smiles, but wipes it away quickly, probably feeling embarrassed about his achievement. “Are you free for dinner?”
I remember the meeting with Mr. Brooks. “I don’t know yet. I’ll let you know when I find out.”
“Okay. Get ahold of me later.”
“Will do. Take care and get back to work. I gotta get to my meeting.”
We say goodbye and I wave over my shoulder as I’m stepping out.
