Chapter Three
Pressure on her shoulders and a warm wet nose nudging her chin dragged Harper from sleep.
“Come on, Franky. I closed the bar last night,” she tried half-heartedly.
She was sure that, as always, it was just before dawn, and her massive German shepherd had decided it was time for breakfast. And since Harper didn’t get up quickly enough, Franky decided that using her shoulders as her personal trampoline was an appropriate tool to wake Harper up. “Please, just five more minutes.”
Franky answered Harper’s plea with a grumble and nudged her chin with her nose again.
Harper pried one eye open and said, “Why did I save you from the pound again?”
Franky seemed to know she didn’t mean it because she yodeled twice, spun in a circle, and pounced on her chest.
Hoping she could sneak in a nap before starting her day if she fed and walked Franky now, Harper finally gave in.
She groaned as she pushed herself out of bed.
She’d been discovering that forty-five was a lot achier than forty-four had been.
Especially after Franky had lain on top of her legs for half the night.
While Franky ate breakfast, Harper slipped on loose linen pants, a tank top, and flip-flops. It was casual, but that, she’d come to learn, was Key West. It was so different than Chicago, but it was the change she’d needed to survive.
Kelly had been gone for more than three years. Sometimes it felt like more than that, but occasionally, Harper’s longing was still so poignant that she couldn’t breathe.
“Come on, Franky.” She patted her leg, and Franky trotted to meet her where the harness and leash hung near the door. “Good girl.”
Harper had not managed to find the time to take a nap, so she’d been cranky for the hour since she’d opened.
She was wiping down the bar for the fourth time, even though it didn’t need it, when the door opening caught her attention.
A tall woman with a willowy frame hesitated in the doorway.
Harper couldn’t see her face in the backlight but wanted her to feel welcome, so she smiled as she said, “Welcome in. Feel free to sit anywhere, and I’ll come to you. ”
She had the wall of windows along her storefront open because the breeze felt perfect, so she expected the woman to sit at a table there, but she picked a stool at the bar a few seats down from where Harper had recently finished cleaning.
The woman placed a red plastic bag on the seat next to her.
She had a chin-length, honey brown bob with some waves in it, dark brown eyes that seemed to hold a lot of secrets, and a gorgeous face.
She had an air of class that was incongruous with the loud Hawaiian print shorts and pink, I heart Key West tank top.
Regardless, Harper gave her the standard slightly flirty smile as she approached.
“Hey there. I’m Harper. What can I get for you? ”
The woman’s expression stayed the same as she stared at the bar menu. “Hmm,” she said without looking away. “I’m not sure.”
“What do you normally like to drink at home? I can make some suggestions. Or I can make you anything you like, even if it’s not on the menu. I’m pretty versatile here.”
When the woman looked up, Harper flashed another smile that she would swear had a tiny corner of the stranger’s lip curling. “Why do you think I’m visiting?” She arched one eyebrow.
Harper’s pulse quickened slightly as they made eye contact for the first time.
She pursed her lips as she studied her, trying to ignore her body’s reaction.
“Just a guess but mostly due to that tank top. The locals live here because they heart Key West, you know? They don’t need it emblazoned across their chests. ”
The woman’s eyes went wide as pink crept into her cheeks.
“I’d forgotten about this delight.” She tented the tank away from her skin and gave Harper a peek at the black satin of her bra.
Harper silently admonished herself for noticing.
“So anyway, since you’re the expert, my standard go-to is an old-fashioned, but that feels too heavy, given this hot and humid weather.
Sometimes in summer, which feels a little like this at home, I’ll drink gin. So maybe something with that.”
Harper laughed at her perception of the weather. “If you think this is hot and humid, it’s a good thing you’re here in February. You should see it in July.”
“Oh God, I might die. Maybe this is a terrible idea,” she mumbled, and Harper wondered if she planned to stay for a while, but good bartenders didn’t pry. At least not to people who were sending clear off-limits vibes.
Instead, Harper pretended that she hadn’t heard and said, “Gin is a perfect drink of summer, isn’t it? If you like the cherries in an old-fashioned, how about a Barbados cherry smash?”
The woman grimaced. “That sounds really sweet.”
“A common misperception. I make my own simple syrup, so I know exactly how sweet it’s going to be, and if you really don’t like sweet, I can dial it back.
Also, this is pretty much the first local harvest of these cherries, and it’s earlier than normal, so they’re more tart, which balances the drink nicely.
Do you want to give it a try? If you hate it, I’ll make you something else.
” It might seem like a bad idea for business, but Harper had found that letting patrons give a drink back if they didn’t like it actually increased sales.
A smile flirted along the woman’s Cupid’s bow lips and set a little flutter in Harper’s belly that she was not comfortable with.
“Well, if you believe that strongly in it, I’ll give it a whirl.
” But as quickly as the smile had almost appeared, it was gone, and Harper felt its loss.
What was going on with her? This was not how she reacted to people sitting at her bar, so she spun and got to work muddling cherries and two mint leaves in the bottom of the cocktail shaker before she could say something flirty and try to earn a real smile. That felt dangerous somehow.
Harper stared at the woman’s mouth as she placed the drink in front of her, holding her breath as she waited to see if she liked it.
Harper forced out her breath and looked into her eyes instead.
That might have been a bigger mistake as the woman’s mysterious eyes stared into hers with an intensity that shook Harper until she forced her gaze away.
“Uh. Let me know what you think.” She stepped back until her butt pressed into the counter behind her.
The woman lifted the lowball to her nose and swirled the drink as if it was wine.
Strange. She took a sip and held it in her mouth for a beat before swallowing, and Harper found herself holding her breath again, as though she’d just made a drink for the country’s first female president and was anxiously awaiting the verdict.
Harper couldn’t force the breath from her lungs until a full smile grew across the woman’s face, and Harper felt her own smile answer like a sunflower reaching for the sky.
Finally, after taking another sip, the stranger’s pink tongue peeked out to lick a drop of gin that clung to her lips like a lover’s kiss, and she said, “You could be a little dangerous.”
“Da…dangerous?” Harper stumbled.
“This is fantastic. Not too sweet and goes down as easy as lemonade, but you definitely packed a punch in it.”
You pack a punch, Harper thought but was able to stop those words before they popped out and instead said, “I always do.” Shit.
That was flirtier than she’d meant. This area of the bar was starting to feel a little precarious.
“I’ll, uh, leave you to it, but let me know if you need anything else, okay?
Again, I’m Harper.” She was hoping yet not hoping the woman would give her name. Ugh.
“Sure, thanks.”
She busied herself behind the bar as a few more tourists walked in and kept moving as far away from the woman as she could without making it weird. However, when she noticed the woman’s drink getting low, she tightened all her muscles to try to keep those fucking flutters from coming back.
“Is the last sip as good as the first?” she said before she saw the woman’s face but stumbled a bit when she realized the woman was scowling. Maybe she really didn’t like it after all.
“Oh, yeah, it’s fine.” The woman’s finger incessantly tapping on the top of the bar drew Harper’s attention, and she did a double take when she saw the watch on the woman’s wrist. She was pretty sure that was a fifty-thousand dollar Rolex.
“Well, that doesn’t sound like a ringing endorsement. Do you want me to make you something different?”
She pursed her lips and tucked a chunk of hair behind her ear. “Oh no, this is great. Fantastic, really. Sorry, was just lost in my head.”
“Oh good. You had me worried for a sec.” Harper tried for a casual smile but wasn’t sure she succeeded. “In that case, can I get you another?”
The woman pursed her lips again as she tilted her head side to side. “Yeah, why not?”
Charlie leaned back on the stool and watched the bartender, whose name she’d missed but who was far too attractive to be safe.
The woman spun a bottle of gin in her palm before making a showy pour into a cocktail shaker as she spoke to a guy farther down the bar.
For a moment, that distracted Charlie from the reason she’d come into the bar in the first place.
Was she really thinking of living, for any length of time, in Key West, of all places?
She clearly was since she’d impulsively signed up for yoga teacher training, placing a hefty deposit on it, barely more than an hour ago.
It wasn’t like she couldn’t afford to throw the money away, but just before she’d signed up, she’d also vowed to live more simply rather than as though she never had to work another day in her life.
And it wasn’t like she had anything to go back to in New York. She sighed, indecision permeating her breath, but the clink of a glass being placed in front of her caught her attention. “Thanks,” she said, trying to ignore the ornery smile flashed her way again.
“Let me know if you need anything else, okay? In case you forgot, my name is Harper.” That cheeky smile grew bigger, and Charlie was torn about what she wanted to do. She’d come into the bar looking for something, but did she really want to be this close to such an attractive and flirty bartender?
As Harper turned, Charlie squeezed her hand into a fist and took the plunge. “Hey, Harper, do you know who the owner here is?”
“You’re looking at her. What can I do for you?”
“Oh, great.” Charlie wasn’t surprised. Harper seemed bathed in boss energy. She reached into her bag of dirty yoga clothes and pulled out a PennySaver paper. “I saw in here that you might have an apartment for rent?”
Harper’s brows went up before furrowing, creating a tiny wrinkle. “You’re looking for someplace to live?”
“For now, yeah.” Charlie shrugged, not sure what else to say. She didn’t want to get into her story.
Harper looked uncomfortable as she swallowed hard and stared at the bar. “Well, I’m looking for at least a twelve-month lease. Are you open to that long of a term?”
Charlie didn’t know what her plans were, but she wanted to find someplace, and this seemed as good as any. And if she needed to, she could buy herself out of the lease. “Yeah, that’s not a problem. I’m looking to move here for the foreseeable future, and I’ll guarantee you a year.”
Harper cleared her throat. “I don’t know how to ask this, but do you have a job?”
Charlie couldn’t stop her laugh. “Not exactly, but I promise, I can pay the rent. I, uh, got a generous severance package from my previous employer.” That was true, though not the whole truth, but the specifics really didn’t matter here.
Harper finally made the eye contact Charlie didn’t realize she’d been missing, and her chest warmed. “You don’t even know what the rent is.”
“Okay, how much is it?” Charlie tried hard to suppress her laugh when Harper told her. “Despite these tacky clothes, I can pay.”
Harper stared, looking a lot less relaxed.
“No offense, but I can’t afford to accept a promise.
I’m running a business, and that apartment upstairs is part of it.
No proof of income, no lease.” Harper’s eyes flicked to her wrist, and Charlie was confident that Harper knew she wasn’t as poor as she looked in the tacky tourist clothes.
Part of her wished she’d remembered not to flash her ridiculous watch around.
She wanted a clean break from her past, but she also wouldn’t have expected anyone to recognize that it was a real Rolex.
“How about we go take a look at it? If it works for me, I’ll take it right away and will pay a six-month security deposit.
I’ll still pay every month, and if I stop, I’m sure you could evict me in less than six months, so you’ll be made whole if I’m lying, which I don’t think you think I am. ”
Charlie really didn’t want to give a six-month security deposit because it went against some of her earlier resolutions, but if Harper ran her credit, she wouldn’t be able to fly under the radar as she’d been planning. She crossed her fingers under the bar and hoped for the best.
Harper sighed. “I guess that’ll work.”
Hours later, as she sat on her hotel balcony, Charlie still wasn’t sure what to make of Harper’s change in demeanor from happy bartender to reluctant landlord.
Hopefully, the uptight side would disappear once Charlie moved in.
Regardless, she was happy that she was going to move out of this ridiculously opulent hotel in a few days once her certified check from her bank arrived.