“—but he talks about getting older, and having been single for a long time, and when it’s right, it’s right. The kinds of things that people say when they don’t want anything casual. He wants to settle down. And I’m not sure I’m ready.”
She looked at me over top of the glass, and I added, “I like him. I do. What’s not to like? I just think we want different things right now. I’m trying to get the business off the ground and I’m just getting used to being single. He has an established career and is looking for a woman to complete him. And I’m not sure I’m she. At least not right now.”
Rachel nodded. “You can still date him, though.”
“String him along until he gets tired of it, you mean?”
She rolled her eyes. “Have you told him how you feel?”
I shook my head. “It’s hard to do without coming across like I’m making assumptions. He hasn’t actually come right out and said he wants something serious. And until he does, I don’t want to bring it up.”
Rachel studied me for a long moment, then sighed. “Fine. But for the record, you deserve to be happy. Whether that’s with Greg or someone else.”
“Thank you. But I’m not unhappy, you know. I’m having fun working with you and Zach, and I like living with Edwina. You may have a point about selling the house, though.”
“With this spread,” Rachel said, eyeing it critically, “you’ll get enough money that you could afford to buy almost anything else.”
She wasn’t wrong. We chatted about it for a bit, as we worked our way through the cheese plate. I had originally planned to live in David’s love nest at the Apex, and even did move into it for a bit, but that was before Edwina came into my life. She deserved better than a penthouse view of downtown Nashville. She deserved grass under her paws and room to run, which was why I’d come back to the house in Hillwood after the fire damage was repaired.
“What about you?” I asked eventually, when the real estate discussion had wound down. “You and Daniel seem to be getting serious.”
Rachel’s face softened. “We are. Or at least, I think we are. He’s been wonderful, Gina. Attentive, thoughtful. He actually listens when I talk. Buck never did that.”
Buck was the late husband, dead seven years now. He’d died of a heart attack in someone else’s bed, which was when Rachel had had to reenter the job market and became David’s admin. If anyone deserved a happy ending, it was Rachel.
“Yes,” Rachel agreed when I said so. “But?”
“But nothing.”
“Gina.”
I sighed. “Fine. But I worry. Daniel’s track record isn’t great. At least not with business ventures; I’m not sure how he is with women. But he’s almost sixty; there has to have been a few. And now Kenny’s involved, too, and you know how I feel about Kenny.”
“I know,” Rachel said. “And I appreciate the concern. But I’m not putting any money into the bar, and I’m not letting Daniel move in with me. I’m being careful. I promise.”
“What about the bar itself? How’s that going?”
“Actually...” Rachel smiled. “Really well. They’ve been working on it every day. The permits came through, and the professional contractors are starting next week. Daniel thinks they’ll be ready to open by St. Patrick’s Day if everything stays on schedule.”
A big if, if you asked me. The permits might be revoked, the contractors might discover problems no one foresaw, and the money might run out before opening day. Daniel had a history of promising the moon and delivering rocks instead.
But Rachel was looking at me with shining eyes, and she’d just told me she was being careful, and I’d already said my piece about Daniel multiple times.
So instead I told her, “That’s great,” and made sure my voice was warm when I did it. “I really hope it works out. And I promise I’ll come visit once it’s open and give it a fair chance.”
Rachel’s smile widened. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
“Even though it’s in Five Points and might fail within a year along with half the other bars in that neighborhood.”
“If it does,” Rachel said, “it won’t be for lack of trying. Maybe I can prevent that.”
Maybe she could. It was more help than Daniel had had at any other point in his career.
“So,” Rachel said. “Back to the murder. You didn’t mention Kenny earlier.”
No, I hadn’t. And I’d been wondering when we’d circle back to this.
“I don’t know, Rachel,” I said. “He certainly had motive—he wants Jacquie, and Nick was in his way. And he might have had means—I’d ask you if he or Daniel owns a gun, but to be honest, I don’t want to risk you lying to me.”
