“Do tell.” She pulls my plate over and points to it as if asking for permission and I’m quicktonod.
“Go for it.” I think on it for a minute. “After the mess my marriage turned into, I couldn’t think straight, let alone work on cases twenty-four seven. I needed a change. I was busting my ass at Collins and Associates. It’s Axel’s father’s firm. Axel is the one who called the cops on you that night, so technically, it’s him you need to seek your apology from.” I give a quick wink. There. I outted Axel after all. I couldn’t help it, though. There’s something about this girl that could wrangle every username and password out of me if she wanted. “I wasn’t chasing dollars. I didn’t have a prenup with Meredith, and I didn’t know what she’d want out of the divorce—but it’s been amicable so far and should crash to a conclusion in a few weeks. So after that, I’m up for earning copious amounts of tender green government-issued funds.” I give a shit-eating grin at thethought.
“So this whole Sloppy Pelican thing is more or less your way of reinventing yourself. Me likes.” She gives a silent applause. “Are you open to suggestions? Because I happen to be a world-class foodie on top of being a world-class know-it-all. But I’m wise enough to keep my opinions to myself unless otherwisesolicited.”
“I’m all ears.” I fold my hands and bounce them over the table. A smug smile takes over because I happen to know the menu at The Pelican is ironclad. Axel, Brody, and I went over it, studied it—hell, we all but married it. It’s perfect. I’d be curious to know what area she thinks could useimprovement.
“First?” She holds up her lemonade and shakes her head. “You’ve got a great base here, not too sweet, not too sour—but really? Just lemonade? A place like this isn’t exactly reinventing the wheel. There is one other bar-slash-eatery in town, and it’s called the Black Bear Saloon. Judging by the average-at-best menu options at play, I’d venture to say they’re eating your lunch. Literally.” My brows peak because that was the last thing I expected to hear, and come to think of it, she’s probably right.Average. I’ve always hated that word. “The thing you’ve got going for you is the fact you’re not across the street from a major university. The last time I went to the Black Bear I was accosted ten times by frat boys while on the way back to my seat from the restroom.” She gives a quick visual sweep of the clientele. “And judging by your demographics, my odds are better of being offered a solid insurance premium or in the least being handed a pamphlet by some over enthusiastic AARPmember.”
My stomach takes a nosedive. “Why the hell did you have to drag the AARP into this?” I slump in my seat because I’m suddenly eating shit pie twice inoneday.
“Don’t despair, Boobear. Your vibe is good. I like the whole rustic old mine feel. Love the fact all the drinks are delivered in Mason jars, and the reclaimed wood you lined the walls with must have set you back a couple dozen rolls ofnickels.”
My chest pumps with a silent laugh because it set me back fiftygrand.
“But outside of the location there’s not much to differentiate yourself from the Black Bear. I think you should capitalize off the fact you’re catering to graduates—adultswith sophisticated palates. All the fun of the Black Bear sans the annoying frat boys and sorority sluts—excuse my language.” Her lips purse and for a second it looks as if she’s blowing me a kiss, and every last part of me wishesshewere.
“I like where you’re going with this.” But I can’t help but frown because I really thought we nailed it when it came to this place. I don’t like being wrong. Although this doesn’t surprise me. I’ve been wrong regarding just about everything this past year alone. “Anything else?” I’m not sure why I asked. But Low looks as if she’s about to burst like apiñata.
“God, yes.” She leans as if she’s been dying to spew this news for years. “The Black Bear has a live band, and you’re still spinning records. No offense, but you’re streaming a public radio station that I can pick up in my car. The last thing I want is to leave my beat-up Honda and head inside to a premier dining establishment for what I’m hoping will be an out-of-the-ordinary experience—and it will be when I’m through with this place—just to hear the same crappy station I had blasting through my crappy speakers.” Something about the way she says it makes me crave her ten times more than I was when I saw her in that dress this morning. “Not to mention the fact that commercials touting the best qualities of the mattress factories’ latest and greatest offering do not a delicious mood make. You need towooyour guests. Sure, you got them through the door, but will they come back? Face it, you can get average food and average service just about anywhere these days. What you need is superior food and superior service.” She claps her hands just once, and my heart thumps because I can feel it coming. “That’s where I come in, my friend.” And I was right. “That brings us back to this.” She holds up her lemonade. “You need to add at least three more flavors before you open tomorrow, or I fear for the longevity of your establishment. Strawberry lemonade is a no-brainer. We can start there.” She strums her hot pink nails over the table. “And…lavender lemonade!” She points a finger at me and pretends to shoot. “We’ll stick a sprig of fresh lavender in one of these puppies, and the flavors will combust with beauty. Oh! And wild honey lemonade. There you go. Just like that, you have three brand new unique flavors. We’re taking it all to the next level, from the lemonade to the music. I want house band auditions starting this weekend. The Black Bear had the patrons participate in the final decision, and I think you should do the same. Nothing as wild and riotous as the 12 Deadly Sins like they have at the Black Bear. They’re great and all, but they scream university pub material. You’ll need someone versatile who can throw in a few cover tunes once in a while. People love to singalong.”
A shadow covers me from behind, and I turn to find Axel smiling down at the twoofus.
“Anything else you’d like today?” He comes shy of winking as if this entire meal was afarce.
Low takes a moment to scowl at him. “Irecognizeyou.”
I don’t waste any time with the introductions. “Low, this is Axel. Axel, get your apologyready.”
Ax ticks his head back a notch. He’s casual today, not the requisite monkey suit he lives in during the week. And yes, he’s working a shift because one of the girlscalledin.
He openly scowls at her. “You were impersonating a food critic—one I happen to knowpersonally.”
Her mouth opens wide. “You’re not the reason she dove out of this place, are you? She’s psychotic by the way. In my opinion, it should have been you running. And seeing that the circumstances are as such, don’t bother with the apology. You should be thanking me that I took herplace.”
He frowns at the thought. Ax doesn’t run from women. He runstowomen. He’s been sort of a player ever since law school, and years later nothing much haschanged.
“I’m sorry I had you arrested, considering the fact Raven sent you, from what I understand. But I could never thank you for taking Lex’s place.” He waves his notepad at us. “Coffee or cake fordessert?”
“Coffee or cake?” Low practically chokes on the meager variety of confections. Shit. She’s right. “Are you kidding me? I mean, you do have a dessert menu,right?”
Axel and I exchange a briefglance.
“No.” There. I may not be proud, but at least I canadmitit.
“God.” Her head tips back as she closes those beautiful kaleidoscope eyes. “You need far more help than I ever thought.” She snatches the notepad and pen from Axel’s hand. “I’ll need something bigger, but this will do for now.” She whips open a menu and shakes her head while perusing the offerings. “What is this? A lunch menu at a middle school cafeteria? This is carnival food for cripes’ sake. Give me two days and I’ll give you the culinaryworld.”
“We have a budget,” Axelprotests.
“No, we don’t.” I’m quick to justify her passion, and Low looks up for a moment with an unspoken level ofgratitude.
“In that case, let’s hope the numbers dance in the right direction.” Axel takes off, but I keep my gaze trained on this vision in redbeforeme.
“How about I let you live with me rent-free in exchange for your consultingskills?”
Her brows arch. “And?” She flicks a finger at me as if she could hear the next proposal crawling up my throat andshecan.
“And for your services as Evie Slater, my newgirlfriend?”
“That’s a little better.” She leans in with her cleavage bustling out of her dress. “First, we’re going to make sure the patrons of The Sloppy Pelican are eating only the finest fare. And then we’re going to make sure Meredith and Chip are eating their hearts out. You, my friend, are about to have an entire overhaul of yourexistence.”
“An overhaul of my existence,” I repeat absentmindedly, still lost in the spell of those perky pink lips. “That sounds exactly like something I’m inneedof.”
My gut pinches because a primal part of me very much wants Lowaswell.
