1. Milo
1
MILO
“ H ello? Is anyone here? I’m looking for the handsome young man who recently purchased this fabulous building.”
I rolled my eyes as I wiped my hands down my paint-stained jeans and left the paintbrush I’d been cleaning in the utility sink in the storage room at the back of the gallery.
My gallery.
Because as Betty White, my real estate agent who did in fact look like the Key West version of her namesake, had proclaimed, I had indeed bought the building.
“Were you looking for me?”
Betty beamed as she turned my way holding up an expensive bottle of champagne.
“I brought bubbles to celebrate. Join me for a drink?”
For a split second, I thought about declining her very sweet offer.
I had a ton of work to do if I wanted to get the gallery ready to open before tourist season kicked off, but as I mentally tabbed through my to-do list and considered my timeline, I nodded.
I could make time for a drink with the woman who had made it all possible.
“Forgive me, but I don’t have any drinkware down here.”
Betty waved me off, her fuchsia and neon green nails flashing in the midafternoon sun streaming in through the large glass windows that overlooked the adorable street peppered with boutique businesses.
Businesses that now included my gallery.
Mine.
“Honey, I always come prepared.” She reached into her oversized handbag and pulled out two champagne flutes.
“Are those mermaids wrapped around the stems?”
“Mermen, angel fish. Sexy mermen.” She waggled her eyebrows over the tops of her glasses, set the flutes down on the plastic-covered counter, and went to work popping the champagne.
“The Christmas Shoppe down the street has the entire January Jewels merman collection. All the exclusive ornaments and a ton of brand exclusives like these bad boys. You need to check it out.”
Sure enough, as I got closer, I realized the mermen weren’t just wrapped around the stems of the glasses, they were working them like they were stripper poles.
“Uh, thanks. Maybe I will.”
“You should. Soon. Ollie Bloom, the flamingo shifter who owns the shop, is a sweetheart. I think you two could be good friends.”
I wasn’t sure I had time for making friends.
I had a business to get off the ground, and the last thing I wanted to do was go back to Chicago with my tail between my legs because I couldn’t hack it on my own.
No.
That wasn’t going to happen.
I took a breath.
I was totally going to make this work.
I had to.
I’d put everything I had into buying this place.
Failure was not an option.
Betty filled the champagne flutes, passed one to me, then turned to lean against the counter, surveying the gallery.
“I can’t believe how much you’ve gotten done in just a week. This place is really starting to come together.” She held up her glass in a toast.
“To great deals, hard work, and new beginnings.” I clinked my glass against hers.
“Congratulations, Milo. I’m so happy you’re here.”
The lump that formed in my throat made it hard to swallow the excellent champagne, and it took me even longer to find the right words.
“Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
Betty put a hand on my shoulder and waited until I’d turned to look at her before she spoke again.
“I have a very good feeling about you and Key West, kiddo.”
I laughed.
“That makes one of us. The heat is already killing me.”
“Pfft. You’ll be grateful to be here when it’s negative something in Chicago.”
“I like the cold. It’s kind of my thing.” I pointed at my chest.
“Snow leopard shifter, remember?”
She laughed.
“Yeah, yeah. I said the same thing when I moved down from Jersey. That was more than twenty-five years ago. There’s something about this place that pulls you in and refuses to let go.” She knocked back the rest of her drink then topped off her glass again.
“Have you had a chance to do much exploring?”
I shook my head.
“There’s been a lot to do here.” Part of why the gallery had been so cheap was because the building had been empty for a couple of years.
While there was no structural damage, the storefront needed some TLC.
I’d spent the week since I’d arrived in Key West cleaning, painting, and doing minor repairs to the space.
Once I had art for sale on the walls it would all come together, but for now, it was still very much a work in progress.
My real estate agent and the only person I officially knew in town looked at me disapprovingly over her glasses.
“Milo, you need to get out and look around. Meet people. Socialize.”
“It’s only been a week.”
“How are you supposed to fall in love with Key West if you aren’t out experiencing everything our fair city has to offer?”
“I’ve been to the grocery store.”
She threw up a hand in exasperation.
“How are you supposed to fall in love if all you’ve seen is the grocery store?”
I was almost certain she meant how could I fall in love with the city if I didn’t get out to see it, but my heart twisted painfully in my chest anyway.
I’d thought I was in love before I left Chicago.
I thought it was the kind of love that culminated in a white picket fence in the suburbs, and a house full of cubs.
But I’d been wrong.
What had been leading to forever for me had just been for right now with Marco, and he’d let me know that when he’d shit all over my dream of owning my own gallery when I’d told him I’d been looking for a gallery space.
Then he’d told me it was a stupid idea I’d never make a reality, even though I’d shown him my damn business plan for fuck’s sake.
After that, I expanded my search to include possible gallery locations outside Chicago.
Marco had already torpedoed our relationship and thrown four years away when he told me there was no way I’d ever achieve my dream, and without him, I really had nothing left for me in the city, so there was no point in staying.
Didn’t stop Marco from showing up as I was packing up my car to remind me again that he didn’t think I’d be able to do it, that I didn’t have what it took to run a gallery like he did.
I had known it was a stupid idea to date my boss, but it had been so good.
Until it wasn’t.
So I had no choice.
I decided to start over in Key West, and even if the heat killed me—and with the way I was sweating it just might—there was no way in hell I was going back to Chicago.
Betty’s beringed fingers waved in front of my face.
“Milo? You okay, kiddo?” I blinked and focused on her face and she lovingly patted my cheek.
“I lost you there for a second.”
“Sorry. I got lost in my thoughts.” I set my half-full glass of champagne on the counter, celebratory bubbles suddenly the last thing I wanted.
She twisted her lips to the side.
“Well, you need to let whatever it is you were thinking about go. No one should look that sad, and if I find out who put that look in your eyes, I’ll murder them myself. I can do wicked work with a metal nail file.”
The vehemence in her tone made me smile.
If Key West as a whole was anything like Betty, I might be half in love already.
Maybe she was right and I needed to get out and do some exploring.
“If I wanted to see the very best of the city, where should I start?”
She tutted.
“Not where, angel fish. When. And the answer to that question is sunset. Watching the sun set over the ocean is the best place to start. I guarantee they didn’t have sunsets like ours in Chicago.” She patted my arm.
“Head down to the marina and take a peek.” She picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder, then headed for the door.
“I can’t wait to see what you do to this place. I know it’s going to be amazing.”
She had the door open before I realized she’d left the champagne and her sexy merman glasses behind.
“Wait. You forgot these.” I picked up the flutes and started for the door.
“Oh, no. The bubbly and the glasses are for you. A gallery-warming present if you will. Enjoy.” She waved and slipped out the door, sliding on a pair of oversized sunglasses as she turned down the street to where her little red sports car sat at the curb.
After she sped away, I studied the glasses in my hands, noticing the intricate details in the craftsmanship of the mermen.
Maybe I should take a walk and check out the Christmas Shoppe, but Betty said I should start with the sunset, and suddenly, that sounded like a great idea.