CHAPTER TWO
K RU
“Shouldn’t be too much work to get it in condition to open.” I lean against a countertop along the front wall. I wonder if Dan can hear how hard my heart is pounding. Being here, next to him, the camera crew and producers waiting outside, has the reality of the situation hitting me hard.
I did it. I am the new owner of this damn-near-lakeside building, which will not only be my newest business, it will be my new home.
But the work is only beginning.
This place has been empty for god knows how long, but the bones are good.
That’s what I keep telling myself, at least, as I launch myself into the wild unknown of financial risk.
Because the reality is that I just sank every last penny I’d saved over the past five years into this place.
Sure, I’d done extensive market research, pored over business plans and menu concepts.
All signs pointed to this restaurant, here in Bayshore.
But it meant a big loan, a reality TV show to help offset some of the costs, and selling my share of the business Maverick Daly and I started in Cleveland.
This fucking needs to work out, because I don’t have a Plan B.
“I saw you on that food truck show,” Dan says, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “You did awesome. I love how you came back to help Maverick’s food truck at the end, too.”
“It’s what you do for your brothers.” I cross my arms, barely able to think back to the wild months of that food truck reality show.
It had launched this exciting new chapter of my life, that’s for sure—taking the leap to leave my native Wisconsin, move to Cleveland with Mav and build out our food truck concept together.
The past few years have been a dream come true.
And now I’m ready for bigger dreams.
“I’m sure you’ll drum up a bunch of interest with that camera crew outside.” Dan tips his head toward the front of the building. “Bayshore is a solid little place. You should do well here.”
I’m worried that I’ll just fumble and fail, but I hope once I see the restaurant coming together, I’ll start to feel more confident about this crazy ass scheme.
I remind myself that I felt the same way in the weeks leading up to opening our Fork maybe they’ve had second thoughts and need all the money back. “What can I do for you?”
The bank rep goes on to inform me in her calm customer-service tone that there was a problem issuing my debit cards for the bank accounts I recently opened. Relief threads through me. So I don’t need to return all the hundreds of thousands of dollars—excellent. We can continue as planned.
Before I can even swipe out of the call, a sharp voice pierces the air.
“Hey! What are you guys doing out here?”
The voice sounds feminine. Possibly enraged. And it’s coming from directly behind me. I pocket the phone and turn, finding a short, tightly packed strawberry-blonde bombshell staring straight at me, closed fists propped on her hips.
I blink once, then again. I’m not able to comprehend what I’m looking at.
Because the woman in front of me is the woman I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since she ghosted me last month in Cleveland.
I open my mouth to say something, but I’m at a loss. She can’t be my elderly bakery neighbor…can she?
“Your van is blocking the entrance for my customers,” she says, leaning in with narrowed eyes. “My customer can’t make it up the curb cut. You guys have been parked here for almost half an hour.”
I still can’t process who I’m seeing. I smile in spite of myself—she recognizes me, right? Did I imagine her? Or is this her identical twin?
“It’s not funny,” she snaps.
“Do you—” I cut myself off. She clearly doesn’t remember me, which is fucking awkward, and not a great testament to my skills .
The longer I stand here staring and not saying anything, the angrier she’s getting.
I can practically see her annoyance coming off her in comic book curlicues from the top of her head.
“You need to move that vehicle.” Her voice is practically a slap across the cheek. She gestures to the back of the van. “Barb just had hip surgery. If she falls, you’re getting the medical bill.”
Fuck. I feel bad. Beyond the end of the van, I see someone assisting an elderly woman using a walker. They’re attempting to step up onto the grassy divide that separates the parking lot from the storefront sidewalks. My brain rumbles back to life.
"I will assist Barb myself," I tell her. "We're unloading here, and the van will be moved as soon as we’re done.”
“You’ve been hogging the entryway for a full half hour,” she reminds me. “There are about two hundred other places for you to park in this lot, but you chose the one spot that would ensure my customers can’t enter safely.”
“It was a mistake,” I begin. Because it was. I’m definitely not the type of guy to be an asshole to people, much less paying customers.
“Furthermore, there’s a time limit. So now you need to leave.”
The sass in her tone prompts a laugh from me. “I won’t be leaving. This is my property.”
Her brows form a straight line and her chin dips. “So you’re the new owner, huh?”
“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” I step closer, analyzing all of the details I can before she zips away. Her green eyes. The creamy skin I’d kissed every square inch of. I stick out my hand and she eyes it for just a moment too long before shaking it.
“Piper.” Her smooth hand in mine sparks. The undercurrent is there, even if she’s acting like she doesn’t recognize me. She pulls away quickly and starts backing up, narrowing her eyes. “Hopefully you’re a bit more considerate moving forward.”
She zooms back toward the shop, brightly greeting Barb and her assistant who have since reached the front of the store via the grass.
Piper looks over her shoulder at me, her bright smile falling only slightly as she narrows her eyes at me before disappearing into her shop.
I still can’t fully comprehend what just happened.
Pat comes up to me, saying in a low voice, “We got the whole thing recorded. That was epic. We’ll be sure to get her to sign the release so we can use it for tension. Angry neighbors play so well on TV.”
I heft with a small laugh. “And in real life?”
“That’s for you two to hammer out once we’re done filming,” Pat said, nudging me in the side. “In the meantime, the thornier the better. You haven’t even told her she needs to vacate the apartment yet, have you?”
My stomach turns into a knot and plummets to the bottom of my feet.
Fuck. I’d forgotten about that small detail in facing down the woman who’d been haunting my memories for the past month.
At least now I had a name, but along with that I had almost one hundred percent certainty that she either did not recognize me or was no longer interested in me.
Did she not remember the four orgasms I’d given her?
“I sure haven’t.” I heave a sigh, rubbing at my forehead. First things first: I need to move this van. And after that?
I somehow had to find the courage to inform that little spitfire that not only am I her new landlord, I’m also kicking her out of her home.