Chapter 16
The bar buzzed with energy even though it was the middle of the week. The usual weekday calm had vanished under the hum of voices, laughter, and the clatter of glassware. Country music drifted from the speakers overhead while the scent of fried food and spilled beer hung in the warm air.
Adam moved a row of empty bottles off the bar and dropped them into the industrial dishwasher behind him. The machine hissed and roared to life. He grabbed three glasses, filled them with ice, and poured vodka sodas before sliding them across the polished wood.
“Here you go, Tara,” he said as the waitress swooped past with her tray. She flashed him a grateful grin and disappeared into the crowd of tables. He wiped his hands on a towel and glanced down the bar at two familiar faces. “You ladies okay?”
Ellen and Joan sat side by side on the stools closest to the register.
Joan rested her elbows on the counter with the comfortable confidence of someone who had been coming here for years. “I’d love another champagne.”
“I’ll take Fireball,” Ellen announced. Her words dragged together as she spoke, and her body swayed on the stool.
“All righty.” He grabbed a champagne flute and a shot glass, poured both drinks, and set them in front of the women.
Joan reached out and caught his wrist before he stepped away. “You seem pretty single these days, Adam.”
He raised one eyebrow.
“I know you’re goofing off with that movie woman,” Joan continued. “What’s her name again?”
“Bianca,” he said. Joan knew the woman’s name.
Joan nodded. “Yeah, of course. But she’s leaving town soon. You know that, right?”
“I know,” Adam said. “She loves outside set design and decorating with flowers.” Bianca hadn’t hidden how much she loved her job, and it definitely wasn’t about money.
She talked about filming locations, scenery, and landscaping projects with the kind of excitement most people saved for vacations or weddings.
Ellen’s blue eyes swam as she stared at him. “Really? I knew she liked flowers, but how much does she like flowers?”
Adam grabbed a rag and wiped down the section of bar in front of them.
“I could really use a partner,” Ellen continued. Her voice carried a hopeful note that tugged at him.
“I don’t think she’s interested in running a flower shop,” Adam said.
“She’s more into planting trees, shrubs, that sort of thing.
” He hadn’t heard from Bianca all day after dropping her off with her coworkers.
He figured they’d be safe if they stuck together.
She’d promised to call if she needed anything, and he’d expected a call by now.
It was already dark outside.
Ellen’s shoulders sank. “That’s what I figured.”
Adam studied her for a moment. Ellen had worked hard to build her little flower business in town.
The shop sat on the corner across from the feed store, and most days she kept the windows filled with bright arrangements that caught the attention of anyone walking by.
Still, a small town didn’t always provide steady income.
“You know,” Adam said, “I could make more of an effort to keep fresh flowers on the tables.” He glanced at the small arrangements scattered along the bar and the dining area that the Lady Elks had brought by. “They really do add personality.”
Ellen lifted her head. “Yeah?” Her eyes sharpened with interest. “What do you mean?”
Adam released a slow breath and did a quick calculation in his head. His bank account had taken a few hits lately, but the bar had been doing well enough to carry a small extra expense. “How about I order fresh flowers for the tables every week?”
Ellen’s eyes widened. She turned her head and scanned the bar, clearly counting the tables. “Seriously?”
“Yes,” Adam said. “Just make them seasonal. Nothing too fancy.” He tossed the rag over his shoulder. “Why don’t you give me a bid and we’ll talk about it later this week?”
Hope spread across Ellen’s face like sunrise.
“Adam, that’s the nicest thing I’ve ever heard.” She shook her head quickly. “You can’t just do that because we’re friends.”
“I like the atmosphere,” he admitted. “Those flowers from the fundraiser have brightened the place up all week.”
Music swelled across the room as a group near the pool table cheered over a winning shot. Someone laughed loud enough to turn a few heads.
Adam poured another beer for a waiting customer. “I’d be happy to do it. In fact, I could talk to Kurt over at Kurt’s Koffee and see if he wants to decorate his tables, too. Maybe we turn it into a fun contest.”
“Contest?” Ellen gasped.
“Sure.” Adam liked the idea. “We could see which place has the best flower displays every week. Customers vote or something like that. We could even give out prizes.” Adam nodded toward the pizza restaurant down the street.
“Same with Paul’s Pizza Joint,” he said.
“You might have to stick with Italian colors over there.”
Ellen laughed. “That could work.”
Adam set the beer on the counter and watched her expression. The excitement in her eyes had replaced the earlier disappointment. “It’s time we stepped up and helped you out.”
Ellen had lived in Mineral Lake for almost five years now. In a town this size, that meant she had earned the title of local. And locals looked after each other.
“Oh, Adam.” Ellen pressed a hand against her chest as if she had just received the best news of the week. “I don’t know what to say. I think I love you.”
Adam laughed.
“So do I,” Joan said, giving him a wink.
Adam shook his head. “You two stop it right now. Ellen, why don’t you put together a big bouquet of spring flowers for me? No roses, though.”
Joan frowned at him. “For the city woman?”
“Yeah,” he said dryly. “For the city woman.”
Joan had been flirting with him for over a year. Some nights she went beyond flirting and moved straight into propositions. Adam had dodged every one of them. Joan wasn’t a bad person. She just had a way of looking at him that made the back of his neck prickle.
Running a bar meant he had to be careful about that sort of thing. This place served as one of the few gathering spots in Mineral Lake. Ranchers, retirees, construction crews, and tourists all came through the doors, and he never wanted anyone to feel uncomfortable walking in.
Especially on the nights when Dawn sang. He looked toward the too quiet stage.
Both women followed his gaze.
“I take it you’re not singing tonight?” Joan asked. Her voice carried a faint edge of disappointment.
“Nah. I called earlier, and Dawn caught the bug going around.” She’d sounded horrible. Adam usually saved performances for the evenings when Dawn and the rest of the band could join him. Morning music happened now and then when the older ladies stopped in for coffee and pastries.
Although he’d liked singing for Bianca that morning.
Part of him wished she wanted the quiet life Ellen offered with that flower shop.
He could picture Bianca arranging plants, planning gardens, and filling the town with color.
Hell, he would have loaned her the money to buy into the business if she asked.
But that wasn’t who she was. Bianca chased landscapes, sunsets, and film sets across the country, and he liked her that way.
“Yo, Adam?” Ellen snapped her fingers in front of him. “Are you still in there?”
“Sorry.” He blinked and gave a quick shake of his head. “Got lost in my own thoughts for a minute.”
Joan sniffed. She turned and studied the clusters of people gathered around the tables. Ranch hands sat with longneck beers while a group of younger locals argued over a game of darts near the back wall. Then she turned back toward him. “Are they filming anything in here?”
“Hell no,” Adam said immediately. “I don’t want movie people taking over my place.”
Joan’s shoulders drooped. “I really want to be an extra,” she admitted. “But I can’t figure out where they’re filming.”
Adam felt a twinge of guilt. Had Bianca found another ranch house yet?
He knew the town council had approved two days of filming in the center of town.
The old Samuelson place had already been rented for the equipment trucks and trailers.
He probably should have told Bianca about the Willoughby agreement earlier that morning.
Instead, he had enjoyed their time together and left the conversation for later. Not exactly his finest decision.
“Excuse me for a minute,” he said. He caught Tara’s attention and pointed toward the bar.
She gave a quick nod.
He pushed through the double doors behind the bar and stepped into the hallway that led past the kitchen. The noise of the bar softened as he walked down the narrow corridor to his office.
The room was simple but comfortable.
A wide wooden desk stood near the center with stacks of paperwork arranged in uneven piles. A computer monitor glowed in the dim light, displaying the bar’s inventory records. Shelves along one wall held binders, supply invoices, and a few framed photos from past music nights.
Adam sat and rested his hands on the edge of his desk. Bianca should have called by now. He pulled his phone free of his pocket and punched in her number.
On the third ring she answered. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Adam. I was wondering if you were coming by the bar tonight.” He rested one hand on the desk and stared out the window into the dark. “If not, I can come pick you up wherever you are. You shouldn’t be out alone tonight.”
There was a pause on the other end. Then her voice jumped an octave. “Oh, were you?”
Adam winced. His instincts kicked into overdrive. Every nerve in his body lit up with warning. “Yeah,” he said carefully. “I thought you might want to come back for a drink before we headed to my place.” Her belongings already sat neatly in his bedroom.
“Well, gee, Adam,” Bianca snapped, “I’m in the middle of a fucking mess right now.”
His jaw went rigid. Had he ever heard her swear before? “Excuse me?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Turns out I don’t have the Willoughby place as a filming location anymore.”
Adam closed his eyes. He barely stopped himself from slapping his palm against his forehead. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “About that.”
“About that nothing,” Bianca shot back. Her voice rose enough that he pulled the phone away from his ear. “We were all set, and you had to butt in.”
Adam stared at the wall. His woman had a temper and an impressive set of lungs when she wanted to use them. “Let’s talk about this in person. Why don’t you come by the bar, have a drink, and then I’ll take you home?”
“Home?” Bianca snapped. “You think I’m going home with you?”
“Yes,” he said quietly.
Silence crackled through the phone for a second.
“The least we can do is talk,” he said, forcing patience into his voice.
“Well,” Bianca said, “at the moment I’m driving up to Billy Rockefeller’s house.”
Everything inside Adam went cold. Earlier that day he and Quinn had stopped by Billy Rockefeller’s place to ask questions. Billy had denied sending the strange roses and denied shooting at Bianca’s car. But he had made one thing clear. He didn’t want movie people anywhere near town.
“That’s not safe,” Adam said immediately. “You shouldn’t be out there.”
“Well,” Bianca replied, her voice sharp as broken glass, “I guess you should’ve thought about that before you ruined my deal with the Willoughbys.”
His ears heated. “Bianca—”
“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she cut in, “I’m done talking to you.”
The line went dead. Adam lowered the phone and stared at the dark screen. For a moment he didn’t move.
She did not just hang up on him. He shoved the chair back from the desk and headed for the door. Billy Rockefeller’s house sat a good distance outside town. And Bianca was driving straight into a situation Adam didn’t trust one bit.
He grabbed his truck keys from the desk and strode out of the office, his temper blowing wide open.