Chapter 9
9
Opal
The temptation to get matching branded T-shirts for everyone who works at Turquoise Crown was overwhelming, but I didn’t do it.
The main reason is that two of my employees voted against it. Myra Richards and Bristol Holman are Malvie’s friends. When she mentioned that I was opening a bar that features board games, they demanded my contact information. They pulled me into a group text message and immediately impressed me with their vast knowledge of a multitude of board games.
They know a hell of a lot more about them than I do, so I offered them both jobs. They’ve taken on the roles of co-managers. That essentially means they’ll handle all the day-to-day tasks I don’t have time for. I can’t pay a bundle to start, but they’re good with that since Bristol is still in college and Myra teaches piano part-time. They’ll work up the schedule together each week, and I’ll fill in the gaps since my availability is wide open.
I glance to where Myra and Bristol are standing next to the bar. It took all of my energy and almost every waking hour I had available in the past week, but I’m ready for the soft launch.
A few things still need to be tweaked, including the names of the light bites we offer on the menu. Dicey Dip made the cut, but the recipe has been reworked. It no longer smells like a dozen rotten eggs left in a sauna for a week. It still tastes as good as it did when I had my first bite the day I met William.
My gaze wanders to the locked door of the bar. Our soft launch starts in just under an hour. I’m excited to see the handsome almost-stranger again, even though I know he won’t walk in here alone.
“Are you nervous, or is it more excitement that you’re feeling?” Bristol asks as she pushes her blonde bangs from her eyes. “How do I look?”
I skip over the first question to answer the second since it’s easier. “You look beautiful.”
It’s the truth. We both decided on jeans for the soft launch, but unlike me, Bristol is wearing a white sweater with a thick blue stripe running across her chest. I chose a colorful blouse that ties at the bottom hem since I consider it my lucky shirt. That’s not based on any concrete evidence, but it was the shirt I was wearing when Aunt Hildy handed me the keys to the Turquoise Crown legacy.
“You too,” Bristol offers as she glances at Myra, who is busy stacking napkins on the bar. “I love Myra’s dress. She always goes all out for every special occasion.”
That tears an emotional path through me because this is a special occasion. I’m about to launch not only a business but also a tribute to one of the greatest women I’ve ever known.
Bristol’s gaze drops to the phone in her hand. “Malvie and Posey are on their way over to get the food ready for serving. They’ll be here in twenty minutes.”
I’m grateful that Posey is tagging along with my cousin since her mural sets the mood for the bar, and I want to be able to point her out whenever anyone asks who the artist is.
“Aunt Hildy’s coming, right?” Myra asks from where she’s standing.
I grin at the fact that she refers to my aunt as her aunt. Hildy will love that. “She’ll be here, and she’s bringing a date.”
They laugh out loud, but it’s Bristol who says what she really thinks, “I’m jealous. Hildy will probably get more action tonight than I’ve had all month.”
Smiling, I take a breath. “It’s almost time.”
Myra rounds the bar to pour three shots of vodka. She gestures for us to approach her. “Let’s toast to a successful soft launch and to the future because from where I’m standing, it looks brighter than the top of the Empire State Building tonight.”
I glance at Posey’s mural and the beautiful crown with the turquoise gemstones.
Myra’s right. The future is bright, and I can’t wait for it.
* * *
I pick up a tray of some delectable bites. They are crackers with a smidge of bacon jam and a small sliver of cheese. The topping is a scant sprinkle of what smells like parsley.
Malvie and Posey have taken on the task of handing out samples of what might be on the permanent menu when we officially open, but I’m joining in on that fun because I have yet to say hi to William and his guest.
It turns out that the person accompanying William is a man who looks a lot like him. The man is slightly taller with messier hair and just the right amount of dark stubble covering a strong jawline. The sleeves of his black button-down shirt are rolled up far enough to reveal part of an elaborate tattoo on his right forearm. He’s drawn a few curious glances from Bristol and Myra. All he offered back in return was a small smile.
Holding tightly to the tray, I edge up next to where William and his guest are sitting at a table engrossed in a game of chess. “Your Move Morsel?”
William’s gaze snaps toward me as a brilliant smile slides over his lips.
If this man isn’t the definition of handsome perfection, I don’t know who is. Even dressed down in a black sweater and charcoal gray pants, he’s the epitome of style.
“Did you just call me Morsel?” he asks in a voice that is so deep it should be outlawed.
“What?” I bark out with a nervous laugh attached to it.
“You called me Morsel.” He shoots a wink toward the man he’s sitting across from. “Did you hear that, Bauer?”
“I sure did, Morsel,” the man joins in on the fun as I feel my cheeks redden.
“No,” I try to correct both of them with a shake of my head. “These are called Your Move Morsels.”
Bauer points at the tray of appetizers. “Those are called that?”
“My cousin named them.” I blame Malvie because she insisted on bestowing ridiculous game-related names on all the dishes she created for me.
I protested, but it wasn’t hard enough. I need to put my foot down and rename everything before we open.
“Your cousin is fucking hilarious,” Bauer says before he pops one of the crackers into his mouth. “These aren’t half bad.”
It’s not the rousing review Malvie hoped for, but it’s a launching point. I’ll get her to rework these, too, so our future patrons order them on the regular.
“I kind of liked the Morsel nickname.” William looks me over, taking an extra minute to stare at my face. “Congratulations on the soft launch, Opal.”
“I’m Bauer.” William’s tablemate shoves a hand at me. “William’s brother.”
“I thought you might be,” I say as I place the tray down so I can shake his hand.
I don’t trust myself to balance anything with one hand.
William takes the opportunity to sample one of the crackers, too. “A little shot of balsamic vinegar in the jam would take these to another level.”
I make a mental note of that to pass on to my cousin.
“This place looks and smells wonderful, Opal. Am I right in assuming that Dicey Dip is off the menu?” William asks.
I laugh. “It’s on it, but it’s new and improved.”
“Dicey Dip?” Bauer questions. “Do I need to sign a legal waiver before trying that?”
William joins in my laughter. “Sometimes you need to jump in and let the chips fall where they may.”
“Is that a dip joke, Morsel?” Bauer teases his brother. “Opal was right when she said it’s your move, so make it.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” I say, nodding at the chessboard. “Thanks for coming to the soft launch. I hope I’ll see you both once we officially open.”
Before either responds, I hear Myra calling my name, so I turn and walk away, hoping tonight won’t be the last time I see William Knight.