He laughed. "What else?"
"It's on a brioche bun, remoulade, lettuce, tomato, pickled red onion. Comes fried or blackened. Blackened is better. Fried is what most people order." She pointed. "It's all right there andlike the board says, we can make it any way you like it. Sully over there, he likes the cook to pile slaw on top. We can do almost anything."
He laughed. "What would you order?"
"Whatever I felt like that day."
"What do you feel like today?"
"I'm not eating, I'm working."
He pursed his lips and set the menu down. "Blackened. If the owner says it's better, I'm not going to be the man who argues with her."
"Wise decision." She typed it into the register. A minute later it would be in front of her chef. "First time in Calusa Cove?" she asked.
"That obvious?"
"I know my locals, and it's a small town," she said.
"I love these little coastal places."
"How long are you here for?"
"About a week."
Being a bartender she could ask anyone anything and no one would think she was being nosy. It was actually part of the job. "What do you do?"
"I'm in private security out of Charleston. Been doing that about three years now. Good gig. And it gives me a fair amount of time off. And I love the location. Thought I'd hate it, considering I grew up where it snowed nine months out of the year. But I also spent my summers fishing." He raised his hands. "So, here I am in a little Florida town, looking forward to dropping a line."
So, this guy was a bit of an over sharer. That could be something, or it could be he just liked to talk.
"Did you fly or drive?"
"I flew into Fort Myers and rented a Jeep."
"That'll do it."
"What should I do while I'm here?"
She set down the knife, and wiped her hands on her apron as she leaned a hip against the back counter. This part she could do in her sleep. Half her conversations with strangers ended up with her giving recommendations.
"You're going to want to start with a tour in the Everglades," she said. "Everglades Overwatch is the best. When you call, tell them Juniper sent you. They'll squeeze you in and give you a discount. After that, head over to Mallor's Landing. Trent Mallor runs an alligator farm and a wild preserve. If you can finagle a spot with Tate Alexander, his fishing charter runs out of Mitchell's Marina. He's booked weeks out for the weekends, but he gets cancellations and he's often got openings during the weekdays. Worth asking. And if you want to take a boat out yourself, Mitchell's rents. The national park is right here in town. There's nothing like a sunset on the water down here if you've never seen one."
"And to eat?"
"You're already eating."
"Besides here."
She smiled. "Even though it's my competition, I'm going to send you down the road from the Marina to the Crab Shack. Right on the water. Live music some nights. The food is excellent. It's got a bit of a Cajun flair. You'll see some of the same people here as you do there. It's all good."
He took a slow sip of his water. "You ever do any of those excursions?"
"I haven't had the chance."
"Let me ask you something, then." He set the glass down and leaned a forearm on the bar. "Take a night off. Have dinner with me. Or a drink. Or rent a boat with me and watch a man who has no idea what he's doing pretend he does. Whichever's the lowest stakes."
She should've seen it coming, and she walked herself right into it with all the questions, like she'd been interested in him. And she was, but not like that. She only wanted to know who he was, why he was here, and if it could possibly be related to Sterling.
