While Gus perused the menu, Hal’s wife, Samantha, appeared from inside. Her long silver hair was held on top of her head by an elaborate clip that sparkled, and she wore a pink and purple tie-dyed dress that fell well past her knees. A pretty lady with an easy smile and shiny brown eyes, she winked at Gus.
“You look like you need another.” She grabbed the bottle from behind the bar and poured some more of the amber liquid into his tumbler. “You still working out at the Boone place?”
He gave a nod.
“Have you met Porter yet? I hear he’s back from the hospital.” She wiped at the counter, then tossed the rag over her shoulder. “He’s such a nice man. I’m hoping whatever ails him goes away sooner than later. He’s suffered enough.”
Gus kept his eyes on the menu, though his jaw was clamped so tight it hurt. When he finally looked up, he found Samantha watching him, a thoughtful expression on her face.
“So have you?” she asked. “Seen him?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
“Oh.” She looked disappointed. “Well, I hope he’s okay is all.”
“I’ll have the special with fries.”
“Gravy and a side of mayo?”
He nodded.
Samantha took his menu and headed back inside. She paid attention, that one. He’d have to watch himself.
A couple claimed the stools two down from him. One glance told Gus they were tourists and most likely staying at the lodge a mile or so up the lake. The male had a small diamond in his right ear and too much product in his hair to be anything but an out-of-towner. His cologne was overkill and matched his smile perfectly. He winked at Hal when he ordered drinks. His entitlement was obvious — the Rolex on his wrist, the leather loafers, and name-brand clothes told a story. He was new money. Folks with generational wealth didn’t wear name brands. They didn’t need to. And he was older than he appeared. His hands and the gray at his hairline were a giveaway. The woman with him? Much younger. Gus tagged her at maybe twenty-five. Dressed in a skimpy bikini with a coverup that barely covered anything, she was overly tanned, overly friendly, and giggled at everything the guy said.
He figured they both knew each other’s game and turned his attention away.
The band, a local bunch of guys who called themselves The Regents, were setting up on the small stage opposite the bar. With most of the tables full, it promised to be a good night on the lake, and maybe in another lifetime, he’d enjoy it.
His cell pinged just then, and Gus dug it out of his jeans. A quick glance brought a smile to his face as he answered.
“Where the hell are you?” His sister was pissed, and his smile widened. It didn’t take much with her.
“DC.” His tone was conversational.
“No, you’re not.”
“No?” He scratched at the days’ worth of stubble on his chin and grinned. “You have ESP or something?”
“Funny. I’ve got two eyes and a brain.”
“Huh.”
“I happen to be standing in the middle of your kitchen. Your plants are dead.”
He frowned. “What are you doing in DC?”
She ignored his question and swore. “Even the big one I gave you for Christmas. The one you promised not to kill.”
Fuck. His lame-ass brother was going to get a phone call. Harry was supposed to be on plant duty.
Tight-lipped, he glanced up as Hal delivered the burger and fries. “Why are you in DC?” He asked again, then got to his feet and moved a few feet so he could have a bit of privacy.
“I broke up with Matt.”
“Sorry to hear that.” He rolled his eyes.
“No, you’re not. You hated him.” She sniffled. “Everyone hated him.”
