Tequila Rose (Tequila Rose #1) - Willow Winters Page 0,59

one thing is clear: we’re not in competition with Charlie’s. No sandwiches, salads and chef’s specials that involve homemade bread.

We’re going to offer a different menu, more pub-like and less comfort food. We definitely need fried pickles. That’s a given. I’m drawn back to the bar where I first met Magnolia. Something like that. That’s what I want. And Griffin is easygoing enough to agree to it all. Although he pointed out if we don’t get the legalities sorted out, it’s going to be a BYOB situation for us, and no one goes into a pub expecting not to get a tall glass at the bar.

“Brody, right?” A masculine voice from behind me catches my attention. The afternoon breeze is cooler than it’s been. Fall is slipping into the color of the trees lining the sidewalk too. Still, the suit jacket Robert wears seems … unnecessary. The T-shirt I’m wearing is just fine for this weather. Even if it is a little colder than it’s been.

“Robert,” I answer him back by speaking his name and hold out my hand. He’s got a firm shake, one I can respect although I don’t know what to think about him. Even though he’s as tall as me, his build is slighter. His proper haircut and clean shave make him look slightly older too.

“Nice to formally meet you.”

“I think we were supposed to meet the other day for business.” I recall Griffin saying he was the one we were supposed to meet with for the alcohol license.

“Yes, that’s right,” Robert says, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Your new bar is the talk of the town.” I almost question him further about it, but he adds, “Among other things.”

“And what would those other things be?” I ask him, knowing damn well he’s referring to Magnolia. A slight movement to my right makes me glance back to see a to-go bag has been placed down beside me. Mary Sue, the young waitress who took my order, has already turned around, leaving the two of us to ourselves.

“I don’t want to keep you from lunch,” Robert says and my attention is turned back to him. His blue gaze meets mine with complete seriousness. “I just want to let you know she’s a good girl and she doesn’t need someone coming in and messing up her life.”

“You speak for Magnolia?” My anger gets the best of me and it seeps into the question.

With a heavy sigh, he looks past me a moment and shakes his head. “She speaks for herself.” He meets my gaze again and adds, “But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t already know what I said is true.”

“I’m not here to mess up anything.”

“She already has someone. So back off.”

I remain unbothered although my eyes narrow. “Sounds like you guys are a thing?”

“We are and I’m sure you know we are.”

“See, that’s confusing, though, because the town says you aren’t. And Magnolia says she’s single.”

“I plan on changing that tonight,” he says and nods his head like it’s a done deal. “Maybe we kept it low key before, but I’m all in with Mags and everyone knows that.”

“Doesn’t seem like you,” I tell him.

“I’m willing to leave with her, pick up and go.” His confidence rises and I don’t know why. Magnolia hasn’t hinted that she wants to leave. It’s been just the opposite. “Are you willing to do that? Change your life for her? Because I am.”

The intensity of the conversation increases with every passing second. Until he clears his throat and glances past me to the three waitresses who are just behind us, setting a single table.

As if it isn’t obvious they’re listening. My annoyance couldn’t be any greater.

“I sent the paperwork over to your company’s email. Congratulations on your bar.” Robert’s regards come with a nod and he moves to turn his back to me.

“You signed it?” I’m not going to lie, a piece of me thought he wouldn’t, just to keep me out of town and away from Magnolia. Everything about this guy throws me off.

“Yeah, it’s all signed. I think I may be long gone by the time it opens, though. And just so you know, I plan on taking Magnolia with me.”

Magnolia

“I’m relieved he’s the one who messaged, though,” I say to Renee, who is seated on the other side of my kitchen island. Slipping in my favorite earrings, I add, “I needed to message him anyway,” I lower my voice so Bridget can’t hear, “about the test.”

“That’s good