Andrea winked. “Call me if you get bored. I’m not afraid of a few years’ age difference.”
“Uh, thanks?” Buck didn’t know what else to say as he pocketed her number, knowing he’d never use it.
“Order up,” came the announcement from the back. “Two slices.”
Saved.
Andrea turned and retrieved his food, passing it over the counter to him.
“Bye, Andrea. Thank you.” Buck was back to polite, while still hoping he didn’t sound too cheery. The last thing he needed was to encourage her any more than her audacity already dared. He turned and headed to the door.
“Bye… Hey. I didn’t get your name.”
Buck pretended not to hear as he pushed out onto the sidewalk and quickly headed toward his van.
He’d thought he might find trouble in town today. He just hadn’t figured it would be in the guise of a young coed trying to pick him up.
Ten minuteslater Buck sat by the reservoir eating his pizza. He wasn’t happy to say it was damned good. Not a thought that would normally make him bummed, but it meant he might have to frequent Andrea’s workplace in the future. Maybe he could get Mason to warn her off.
By the time Buck was finished eating and staring out over the water, lost in his thoughts, he realized it was time to head to the catering establishment, and he didn’t want to be late.
He walked his trash to the nearest available receptacle, got back in his vehicle, and plugged the address Spencer had given him, into his GPS.
Excellent.
Twelve minutes away.
CHAPTER 2
Bobbie relishedthese kinds of busy days, even when things went wrong… Like with her second van breaking down. Luckily, the clients had back-up, and were sending it over.
Crisis averted.
At one point in time, sailing had been Bobbie’s only happy place, but she’d come to enjoy being a chef in charge of her own staff and catering business, which oddly, was thanks to her two brothers. Previous to this gig, she’d been phoning it in for a long time, cooking for various restaurants in the area, bored out of her mind. When Drew and Jeff suggested she go out on her own, and had actually helped her monetarily? Well…Hell, yes. It had been a no-brainer. She’d startedRoberto’s, a play on her full name, Roberta, with her brothers supporting her new business as needed during its first years. Their backing was an anomaly, for sure, but she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
And her sibs had put their money on a winning horse. They were now getting their initial investment back in spades.Roberto’swas so successful, they’d not only recouped their outlay, they were gleefully reaping their agreed upon twenty-percent of her profits.
Considering her success, and their part in it, Bobbie didn’t regret having to pay a single penny of it.
Since then, her brothers had started a business of their own; one that complimented hers, perfectly. They brewed their own beer. It had been well received in the area, especially once she started offering it on her menus. She’d tried it, and hadn’t cared for the overly hoppy flavor, but each to their own.
Her brothers didn’t work hard at their venture, but when had they ever? They only made enough to supply her with a dozen cases per month.
Bobbie, on the other hand, ran her feet off from Thursday to Sunday; planning, buying and cooking for events.
Then came Mondays.
Ahhh.
That was Bobbie’s favorite day of the week.
Lucky her.
She had a rich client in New Brunswick—procured by her brothers early last year—who paid her generously to feed him and whatever guests he was entertaining, on Tuesdays. She made the very relaxing eight to ten-hour sail north every Monday, weather permitting, spent the following day in the man’s state of the art kitchen creating over-the-top masterpieces, fed his party that night, then took the identical voyage home on Wednesday.
Those two days of sailing—even broken up by one day of hard work—were her solace. Her much-needed decompression time.
And because of her affinity for the ocean, she loved her schedule.
