Sandcastle Beach (Matchmaker Bay #3) - Jenny Holiday Page 0,38
executive committee of the town council.”
Meaning the old folks. The meddlers.
But okay. That was fine. Maya was still the best candidate, and she could charm the pants off them. She was their mermaid queen, after all. Well, she had been, past tense. It was still a little disconcerting to think that her reign was over.
The point was, she had this grant in the bag. One hundred percent.
She glanced at Benjamin, who was shuffling through his own package of papers and wearing a little smile.
Ninety percent.
He looked up suddenly, right at her, as if he could feel her attention. He quirked a little smile. An overconfident smile.
Seventy-five percent.
Well, whatever. She had this. Forget mermaid queen. Maya was about to become the community-mindedness queen.
Chapter Eight
Law, hon, can you do me a favor?”
It was Eiko, flashing him a merry smile. Law stifled a sigh. He had been doing her—and the other members of the town council—favors for the past three weeks. These favors had ranged from helping Pearl pass judgment on her Tinder matches—usually Maya’s job, but she hadn’t been around lately—to agreeing to be on a panel at Karl’s Junior Achievement meeting later in the week.
Because that was what “community-minded” people did.
He was operating under the assumption that Eiko knew about Lawson’s Lunch—and if she knew, so did her coconspirators. Of course, they’d all seen him take a grant application, so they knew he wanted the cash regardless, but Eiko had made a few cryptic comments that reinforced his sense that Maya had ratted him out.
Regardless, for a hundred thousand dollars he would happily become an errand boy. Yeah, he’d still need a mortgage against the bar, but a much smaller one. If he could get the grant, and fold in what he’d earmarked for the first few months’ rent, he could buy Jason’s place with a huge down payment. By his calculations, if the restaurant was even moderately successful, he’d have the mortgage cleared in six years. He could live with that in a way he couldn’t the idea of the bar being on the line for twenty-plus years.
So he was getting that money, even if he had to kiss elderly ass all summer long. It did mean he had to put the restaurant plans on hold until he actually got the grant, but that was okay. He wanted to open in the off-season anyway. Waiting would just mean opening a little deeper into it.
He manufactured a smile. “What can I do for you?”
“I was poking around on the roof next door,” Eiko said. “I’m thinking of converting it to a green roof, so I was doing some measuring, and I left my purse up there.” She pulled out a bar stool. “I’m not as young as I used to be. All that squatting and standing. Honestly, as much as I hate to admit it, I…” She huffed a sad little sigh. “I really don’t want to walk up all those stairs again.”
Well, crap. He’d always thought of Eiko as invincible. Of all the “matchmakers,” she seemed the most spry.
“I’ll get it, no problem.” He scanned the almost-empty bar. It was the Tuesday before Raspberry Festival weekend, and he was appreciating the calm before the storm. “Will you keep an eye on the bar? I won’t be long.”
“Sure thing, hon.” She beamed at him. “Thanks. You’re a lifesaver.”
A few minutes later, he emerged onto the roof of the Moonflower Bay Monitor building. He spotted the purse on top of a raised exhaust vent, but he walked past it to take in the view.
The lake was serving up a truly stunning Huron sunset. He got so busy he sometimes forgot he lived on a Great Lake. He had a boat he kept up the river a ways in a marina, and he used to take his friends out semiregularly. But that had fallen by the wayside as he’d thrown himself into restaurant planning.
The sound of someone coming through the door drew his attention. He was dawdling. Crap, he’d made Eiko walk up all those stairs after all. “Your purse is here. Sorry, I—”
It was not Eiko. “Maya?” He’d thought maybe she was out of town. She hadn’t been into the bar since the town meeting, and he hadn’t seen the lights on in her apartment. He’d been wanting to confront her, to ask her if she’d told Eiko about his plans, but she’d disappeared. “Community-minded” tasks aside, it had been a disconcertingly quiet few weeks, actually.