Rogue Beast (The Rourkes #12) - Kylie Gilmore Page 0,93
“Better head to the men’s room to get properly manly again.” It’s actually coral, a darker shade of pink to go with my auburn hair, but try explaining lipstick shade to a grumpy alpha male.
He checks himself with his phone’s camera and huffs, tucking the phone back in his jeans’ pocket. “Smartass.”
I pour Wyatt’s ale and then check on a few customers at the bar and fill their drinks too, mostly as a stalling tactic so I don’t have to deal with Mr. Big City Snark yet. I heard Wyatt moved here from Manhattan. Why? Why couldn’t he have stayed in the city?
I flag down one of our servers and pass Wyatt’s drink to her. It’s self preservation. The less I interact with him, the better the chance I don’t dump a drink on his head. That wouldn’t be very hospitable of me.
After I check on things in the kitchen for the upcoming buffet dinner, I take another tour through the restaurant, making sure everyone’s enjoying drinks and appetizers, and reminding them of the fab silent auction items. I work hard to sound upbeat about the auction instead of desperate. My father left this place in such debt before his passing, no bank will give me a loan. Nasty surprise, that debt. He hid his financial troubles from me and my brothers out of some misguided need to protect us. He was a great dad, though, and really stepped up after my mom passed when I was twelve.
Wyatt catches my eye. “Appetizers are good.”
Pleased that he finally said something positive about my place, I close the distance, stopping at his table. “Glad you’re enjoying them.”
He leans back in his chair. “Have you ever thought of upgrading the dinner menu?”
My temper flares but I manage to keep a civil tone. “No. We’ve had the same menu for decades. Locals love it.”
“Not saying it’s bad just unoriginal. I mean, every meal comes with either French fries or baked potato. A new chef might bring some life to the place. Isn’t that what tonight’s fundraiser’s all about? Keeping this place open?” He taps the table. “With the right management, a better chef, this place has potential.”
I manage this place, and the chef is a family friend. I bare my teeth. “Seems you know a lot about the restaurant business.”
“Not at all. I just appreciate a good one.”
I jam my hands on my hips and glare at him. Obviously he thinks we’re a bad one! I’m so furious I can’t even speak.
He cocks his head. “Cindy, are you cross with me?”
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