Sydney. Find out the backstory to that comment.
Huh.
Maybe there was a reason that first dates followed a standard progression of questions. Because it occurred to Alex that he had only the vaguest idea what Sydney did beyond starting at the Mercantile six days ago. Everything he knew about her was in the context of Chestertown, and her relationships here. Like her crappy, selfish excuse of a mother that she’d just blindsided him with.
Of course, that also meant she had no info on him. That he didn’t have to get into how he was fired, and why it was utter bullshit.
This knowing each other only in the moment thing could be a nice change of pace.
Laughter spilled from Sydney’s pink-glossed lips. “Only once. In Vietnam. The guy I was with told me the blood soup was an aphrodisiac. Specifically, when mixed with rice wine.”
Alex loved hearing about different international customs and traditions. Both because they were fascinating, and because it paid to know something about all cultures when you were in the hotel trade. “Did it work?”
“Dunno. The guy, however, was the opposite of an aphrodisiac.” Sydney shoved the plastic bag a little further away. “The blood soup did, however, smell better by far than these stinkwiches.”
“Must be why the Mercantile is the only shop in town that’ll make ’em for me. Your granny’s always had a soft spot for me.” James pulled one out and unwrapped it. “One now, one for dinner. Thanks, Syd.”
“Thank Alex. He paid for them. He’s the one trying to bribe you.”
Enough joking about the bribe. The last thing Alex wanted to do was cross any lines. James and Sydney might’ve been joking, but there was no guarantee the kid back in the corner would know that. And no telling what he’d pass on to his parents about this conversation.
“Well, I’m here to ask for a favor. Figured doing it over a meal would be more conducive to you saying yes.” Holy hell, but that thing really did reek. Like cheap dog food. “I presume Sydney filled you in on the less than stellar condition of the inn.”
“She said it’s a total mess,” James said succinctly around a giant bite.
The corner of his eyelid tried to flutter into a flinch at the insult.
Okay. Alex could forgive her the overstatement. That had been their first reaction, too. But the bones of the inn were good. Plumbing seemed to work, for the most part. Cosmetically it was a mess, but functionally they were in decent shape.
Knock on wood.
“Things aren’t that bad,” he said grandiosely, with a large swat away of the mostly false statement. “The inn looks worse than it really is.”
“Looked pretty bad, the last time I drove by. So I hope you’re right.”
Man, this guy was a font of downers. Bet he didn’t get Most Inspirational Teacher in the yearbook come May. “But updating her look will be labor intensive. It’ll be a lot of work to get in shape before tourist season kicks off in April. If we don’t make it by then, well, any chance of our turning a profit is gone.”
Alex had done the math. Counted up the projects, the man-hours, the hours in a day, divided by his team.
It wasn’t enough.
No matter how you sliced it.
Then Sydney’s memory had been jogged by seeing her brother at the restaurant. That his friend James was now the shop teacher at the high school. Talk about a good place to get cheap labor.
Alex saw it as a long shot, but Sydney insisted James was ‘mostly cool’ and worth asking.
Oh, and also? He was desperate at this point.
“Yeah, you lose even one month of filled rooms, and you’ll never make up for it come winter. Too bad you didn’t get started until January. Every day will be crunch time.” There was no sympathy in James’s tone. Simply a recitation of facts.
Alex had been hoping for at least a smidge of sympathy. “We thought a couple of your kids might be willing to help. For extra credit? For on-the-job training? Like an internship? Nothing dangerous, I promise. Painting. A lot of painting, mostly.”
“My kids can handle more than the basics,” James said proudly. “Look around. We’re not just sanding down scrap wood here.”
“I noticed the welding booths. This is a lot better setup than my high school had. I’m impressed.” He wasn’t blowing smoke. The room was at least four times the size of a normal classroom.
James wandered up to the whiteboard and grabbed the bottle of