His expression turned defensive. “Well, I mean… most of the guests are ones who’ve been coming for years. They have a sentimental connection to McBride and the inn. I’ll admit it needs some fixing up, but once that happens…” He was distracted by a server calling for him at the other end of the bar. He blew out a breath, replacing the furrowed eyebrows with an easy grin. He turned back to me with another flirty wink that made the Mai Tai in my stomach fizz. “Excuse me.”
I wrapped my fingers around the tall, cold glass of my fresh drink, wondering what this guy’s response would be once he learned about the new resort going up in town and the effect it would have on businesses like his.
Seemingly on their own accord, my eyes drifted back to the bartender’s ass in those jeans. God, he was hot as hell. His T-shirt was worn enough that I could easily see the muscles of his back stretch and bunch as he reached for a bottle above the bar. And the muscles along his arms clearly attested to his continued fitness even though he was well past his high school lacrosse days.
Twenty-six.
Hm. Not exactly jailbait.
After all, Richard had been in his mid-twenties when we’d started dating. Sure I’d been in my early thirties, but there’d still been enough of an age difference that it had become a problem, especially as I’d grown older and wanted to settle down and he was still enjoying being young and irresponsible.
I downed another gulp of my drink. Thinking of Richard made me think of his father and was a cold reminder that I wasn’t here to flirt. I was here for intel. For the deal. For Richard’s father, who remained my biggest client at the law firm by far. Now that Richard and I were broken up, I knew I was on thin ice. If I lost Dick Sr.’s business, the firm wouldn’t be pleased. With the number of real estate transactions he did every year, Dick Sr. was one of the firm’s mainstay sources of income. The fact that I’d landed him as a client was one of the reasons I’d been promoted to equity partner. If he switched firms, I’d lose the respect of my peers and possibly my status at the firm. Maybe even my job.
When the bartender came back over, he had a wet cloth in his hand and began wiping down the already clean bar. “Want another?” He nodded to my empty glass.
The smart thing would be to say no and go to bed. Turn in early so I could be top of my game at the meeting in the morning. “Yes, please,” I found myself saying instead.
Okay, so maybe the smart thing was to stay at the bar and probe the bartender for information. After all, I prided myself in being more prepared than most when it came to negotiating deals, and going into the meeting with intel about the town would only help my client.
At least it sounded like a viable excuse when I knew the reality was that I just wanted to keep looking at the pretty bartender. Feeling compelled to at least give a nod to the excuse I’d given myself for sticking around, I asked the bartender about the inn while he mixed my drink. “So, you said the inn needs renovations… Is that… what does everyone around here want to see happen to it?”
Maybe I wasn’t as good at my job as I’d thought. I wasn’t sure I’d ever sounded so stupid in my life.
The young man’s face lit up completely. “There’s a really cool vintage motor inn in Arizona—and others all over the country, really—that’s been done over with this funky retro vibe. I can totally see the same thing for the Sea Sprite. If done right—and I have lots of ideas for this—it could help revitalize McBride and bring in lots of new jobs. But, it wouldn’t be like what happened with some of those other towns where like all the chichi stores came in and priced the locals out of the market. I mean, McBride wouldn’t be McBride without Flamingo’s and Nanny’s, obviously…”
He seemed to realize he’d been talking a mile a minute. It was endearing, especially when he blushed.
“Sorry,” he said with a soft chuckle. “I didn’t mean to—”
I cut him off. “I liked it. Please continue. It sounds like this town means a lot to you.”
He shrugged, and suddenly the man looked less sure of himself, less like the flirty bartender I’d noticed when I’d first sat down.
“My family has always encouraged me to spread my wings and go have some big-city experience, but that never really felt like my thing. I think…” He looked down at the damp bar rag he’d folded and then refolded as if wondering how much to share. I held my breath, realizing that I wanted to hear what he was about to say and not wanting to do anything to spook him away. “I think they want me to be sure of what I want before deciding to settle down in McBride for good, but sometimes you already know, you know? And this place… it just… it’s perfect for me. My family is here, friends from school… I mean, not everyone, of course. Most of my cousins have gone off to Boston and stuff, but I’ve always seen myself in McBride for the long haul. I’d love to be a part of the town’s revitalization, and I think the Sea Sprite getting a big facelift would go a long way toward bringing in the money and tourism that we’d need for that to happen.”
He shook his head and scratched self-consciously at the back of his neck as he grinned at the floor. “My family thinks I’m crazy. They think it’s too far gone and needs one good swing of the wrecking ball, but…” He shrugged again. “I know I’m right. I feel it… I feel it here, you know?” His eyes met mine, and I could see the earnestness and conviction in them as he put his hand over his heart. I noticed his long fingers were work-worn and flecked with little nicks and scratches. I couldn’t help but imagine what those fingers would feel like on my skin.
Or what it would feel like if he looked at me with that same amount of passion and conviction that he talked about McBride.
I mentally shook my head, trying to rein my overly active imagination. The bartender was clearly waiting for me to respond, and I could already tell from the hint of hesitation and doubt crowding into his expression that he was wondering if perhaps he’d overshared.
“You’ve given this a lot of thought,” I pointed out.
His grin turned lopsided. “Hazard of living through the off-season—lots of time to think,” he said with a chuckle. “But yeah, I guess I have given it a lot of thought.” A slight frown marred his forehead, his expression turning contemplative. “I think sometimes it’s easy to let things get stagnant, you know? Maybe stagnant isn’t the right word, but you start to accept the status quo without question. You keep doing things the way you always did because that’s the way they’ve always been done. Don’t get me wrong, I love tradition and all, but sometimes you have to find a way to respect the past while still embracing the future.”
He gestured in the general direction of the bluff I’d driven past earlier that day. “Take the Sea Sprite, for example. That inn has been the anchor of this town for so long, and I think people have just gotten so used to it being there that it’s easy to take for granted. Sure it would take serious investment and a shit ton of elbow grease, but you revitalize the inn, and the town will follow. It’s just going to take someone with vision to make it happen.”
I thought about other properties my client had purchased and how the luxury resorts he’d built on them had inevitably impacted the nearby towns. High-dollar tourists expected a high-dollar experience, and that extended beyond the walls of the resort itself. They came on vacation with money to spend, and they weren’t looking for the standard kitschy souvenirs and bric-a-brac you might find in a small-town general store. They wanted diamonds and couture bathing suits and restaurants with unpronounceable items on the menu.