Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
He glowered at me. “No red lips.”
“Party pooper.”
Xander chuckled as he pried faux bamboo off the front of the bar. “So Veronica, what made you decide to stay in town?”
“Austin made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.” I slipped off the stool and took a bottle of water from the case on top of the bar. I’d run out to grab them a little bit ago, along with more trash bags—more than one of which I’d helped to fill and carry out back to the dumpster. “Water anyone?”
“Yeah, thanks.” Xander uncapped the bottle I offered and drank the entire thing all at once. “Hot in here.”
“Yes.” It was hot—I glanced over at Austin, who was sweating through his blue T-shirt. He straightened up and twisted his torso right and left before rubbing his right shoulder. Then he looked over and caught me staring, and I quickly looked at Xander again. “So when did you buy this place?”
“Just a few weeks ago.” He looked around. “It’s a little off the beaten path, but I think it will do well. There aren’t any sports bars on Main Street. But all this tiki shit has to go.”
“What will it look like when you’re done?” I asked, glancing around at the faux bamboo on the walls, the thatched roof over the bar, the framed posters of fancy tropical drinks with flowers and paper umbrellas in them.
“I’m going for rugged and masculine but high-end,” Xander said. “I want it to look like an up-north Michigan bar—casual and relaxed—but have great beer and craft cocktails, comfort food that’s not all greasy and fried, big screens to watch games, and a kick-ass sound system.”
“Wow. That’s a tall order.”
“An expensive order,” added Austin. “Where the hell are you going to get the money for that sound system?”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“Will you replace the wood floor?” I looked at the cement that had appeared where the wood used to be.
“Nah. I’m going to leave the cement, and behind all this fake bamboo on the walls, there’s brick. So once I yank that down, the bones will look a lot more like I want them to. Then I’ll focus on the furniture.”
“What about the bar?” I ran my hand over the scarred and stained surface, its varnish peeling.
“Actually, I want my big brother over there to make me a bar top out of reclaimed wood,” said Xander. “But he keeps refusing.”
Austin scowled in his brother’s direction. “I didn’t refuse, I just said I wasn’t sure when I’d have the time. That’s a big project.”
“So the furniture you make, it’s out of reclaimed wood?” I asked Austin.
“You know that table in his dining room?” Xander pointed at his brother. “He made that.”
My jaw dropped. “Oh my god, that table is so beautiful!” I looked at the bar again, imagining a long length of gorgeous, gleaming dark wood. “Something like that would be perfect in here, give it just the right character.”
“Exactly,” said Xander. “This jackass is so fucking talented. So ask him why he’s still working for my dad every day instead of working for himself.”
“Why?”
Austin busted up some floorboards. “It’s complicated.”
“No, it isn’t.” Xander tossed his empty plastic water bottle into a recycle bin. “Want my theory? Austin won’t quit working for our dad because he’d have nothing to complain about if he did.”
Austin shook his head and pointed the handle of a hammer at his brother. “You’re a dick.”
“So then what is it?” Xander asked, leaning back against the bar, arms folded.
“You know what it is.” Austin tossed the hammer aside and picked up a garbage bag. “I’m not going to abandon Dad.”
“He wouldn’t want you to keep working for him if he knew what you really wanted to do,” pushed Xander. “He could hire someone else to take over for you. Hell, he should sell the business. He needs to retire anyway.”
“Drop it.”
“But I want my reclaimed wood bar.”
“Then hire someone else to rip out your floor.” Austin attempted to shove rotted boards into the bag, but it wouldn’t stay open. I hopped off the bar and went over to help.
“Are you scared your business wouldn’t succeed?” Xander refused to give up.
“Fuck you.”
“Because it would. I know it would. You know it would.”
“Would it?” I couldn’t resist asking.
“Probably.” Austin kept filling the bag I held open. “But I can’t quit on my dad. He never quit on me.”
I nodded, recalling what he’d told me this morning about his father being so supportive when he’d announced he was bringing newborn twins home. And what he’d said last night about losing his mom when the kids were all still young. I knew how hard it had been for my mom to raise me alone—I couldn’t imagine raising five kids after losing your partner, especially when you were also dealing with grief.