Arrogant Bastard - Julie Capulet Page 0,32
my head and my heart—and my body—is making me feel a little crazy.
Gage arrives right on time.
He’s dressed in an expensive-looking shirt, a casual jacket and jeans—which I can admit look … good. The man definitely knows how to fill out a pair of Levi’s. He’s tall and athletic-looking. He carries himself like he owns the world.
I guess he sort of does. Or at least a big fat slice of Chicago and now my cute little Key West bar, which happens to be my world so, close enough.
“Are you ready?” he asks. His eyes, I notice again, are an unusual shade of blue which could almost be described as a deep, dark teal. The color of a tropical ocean on a stormy day. I don’t think I’ve ever seen eyes that color before.
“Have fun, guys!” Josie waves at us from the doorway, before closing the door to the stairs and waddling her way up. Those twins seem to be growing by the hour. It’s good she’s going back to Iowa, to her big, loving family and her brand new premium health insurance policy. It makes me feel like the next few hours and in fact the next month will almost be bearable, for that detail alone. Whatever happens, it’s worth it. For her, I’ll literally do anything. Including jumping off a cliff and straight into ownership by a big city player who could very well be the devil himself.
I stare after her almost wistfully. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Gage’s mouth quirks at my reply as he starts walking, hands shoved into his pockets, waiting for me to follow him.
I’ve decided to make the best of this situation. It’s what I do. Besides, this ship has already sailed and I’m now trapped on deck with Captain Cocky.
It’s unexpected that I’m suddenly chained so decisively to a loaded player I hardly know, but hell, it could be worse. He could be, I don’t know, a shady politician. Or an unethical corporate schmuck. At least when we googled him, a lot of the articles were about how much money he gives to charities. So at least he has one redeeming feature … okay, maybe two if you count the unholy fit of those damn jeans. Or the thick dark hair that has a hint of a wave to it. Or the cool alertness in those unusual, tinted eyes that somehow hints at a freakish perceptiveness. Or the absurdly handsome face. Or the impressive width of his shoulders. Or the rugged edge to his clean-cut look …
Okay, so there are a few details that could be considered impressive if you were keeping track. Which I’m not.
As I walk alongside him across the deck, I allow myself to briefly fantasize about the improvements we’ll be able to make. I’m picturing mood-enhancing lanterns and big-leafed tropical plants. Maybe some white gauzy shade cloths that offer a Caribbean feel. We might even be able to hire extra staff, so some of our workers can have days off once in a while. A weekend here and there, even. I can’t remember the last time I had a weekend off.
“It’ll be nice to finally get this fixed,” I say, running my fingers lightly (so I don’t get another splinter) along the rough surface of the railing, where I leaned over it just the other day with my hammer.
“You can tell me all about what you want to do with the place,” Gage says. “With no expense spared.”
I can’t tell if he’s just saying that because he knows it’s what I want to hear. Or why he would. “Why did you buy this bar?” I ask him, point blank. My fate is already sealed and now I want some answers. “I get that it’s cute and has a good vibe and that you saw a business opportunity, but you could have bought your share for a lot less. Why did you offer so much?”
He takes his time, like he’s enjoying my anticipation, or whatever this is. “It was undervalued. By a lot. Probably because most buyers don’t want the hassle of a fixer upper. It’s an absolutely prime location. I know it’ll provide a profitable return on investment once it’s humming, because we can market it as a destination.” It still doesn’t add up. “And it was the only way Josie wouldn’t have to worry about money for the long term. When I see an opportunity to make someone’s day, occasionally I choose to take it.”
I find myself glaring at