10. Will
10
WILL
The 'find Birdie' plan that my brothers came up with starts with swinging by all the places she could be working. Since we only know of three jobs she has, we stop outside City Hall first. We find the place dark and locked up for the weekend. Since it's a Friday night, that's to be expected.
"Where next?" I ask.
"That fancy restaurant. She said she worked there sometimes, right? Friday nights are busy, especially at those fancy places. Has to be worth a shot, right?" Sutton shrugs.
"Still can't believe there's a Michelin-starred restaurant in this little town," Case mutters.
"It's a tourist attraction, apparently. The head chef and owner grew up around these parts and they wanted to give somethin' back to their hometown, and havin' a highly sought after and booked-out restaurant as a reason for people to visit has done wonders by all accounts," Jude replies. The whole truck cab goes quiet as we all swing our heads around to stare at the youngest Cooper. "What?"
"How do you know that?" Sutton asks.
"I read . That's what people do when they're uprootin' their lives to move thousands of miles away," he says matter-of-factly. "I was curious, OK."
'Damn bookworm," Case smirks as I pull away from the curb. "So, tell us, oh wise one. What else did you learn about this restaurant?"
By the time we reach 'Restaurant Row' we all now know that the food served at Falls Pan and Grill is fancy and sparse, close to what you'd expect on a degustation menu. The dishes are also all high cuisine, use locally sourced ingredients, and the selection changes weekly.
"I'll be back," I say after parking up. I jump out of the truck before any of them can follow me and walk toward the restaurant.
Walking inside, I find the place buzzing with people, the sounds of the kitchen reaching my ears as I stop at the hostess station in the entryway. A brunette woman with a tightly bound bun and crisp black and white tailored uniform shoots me a practiced smile as she greets me.
"Good evening, sir. Do you have a reservation?" She looks me up and down and I already know she can tell that I'm not dressed to the standard required in this establishment. Small town or not.
"I was hopin' you could help me. I'm lookin' for someone who works here. Birdie Walker? Is she around?"
Her expression lightens. "Birdie? Not tonight. She worked the lunch shift and left around three. Can I pass on a message for you?"
I shake my head. "No, that's fine, I rush out. I'll just…um… catch up with her another time."
"If you're tryin' to find her tonight, you'll have more luck at the Lair. She works there on Friday and Saturday nights. Has done for years," she adds helpfully.
I let out a huge, relieved sigh. "Thanks for your help…?"
"Isla," she replies, her cheeks blushing pink.
"Thanks, Isla. Much appreciated," I say, giving her a nod before turning back around and heading to the truck.
"No luck?" Jude says, leaning on the front seats as I slip back behind the wheel.
"She worked the lunch shift, but the hostess said she works at the Lair on weekend nights."
"Sweet. Looks like we'll get our free drinks after all, boys," Case says, rubbing his hands together.
My sigh this time is resigned. "Yeah, yeah. Let's get goin' then."
When we reach the Lair, the place is just as busy as the last time we were here a few weeks ago–if not more so. Driving in the parking lot, our headlights light up the space, revealing a sea of muddy trucks and SUVs packed tightly into the space, a dusting of light snow covering their windshields.
The tavern is wedged between a small motel on one side and a gas station on the other. With the parking lot down the side and wrapping around the back.
The porch outside is overflowing with people, their faces lit up by flickering lights hanging down from the ceiling and the neon bar signs hanging in the windows. And despite the chilly temperature outside, everyone is bundled up and jovial, friends and family, locals and outsiders all intermingling together to celebrate the end of another week.
"Are we goin' in or are you goin’ to sit here with the heater on like a creeper who just drove around town lookin' for the mayor's daughter?" Case says. "Have you got a plan? Because you're my brother, my ride or die, but I'm thinkin' kidnappin' a love interest might not be the best way to let her know you're interested."
I roll my eyes at his teasing, but I can't shake the nerves fluttering in my gut. "I'm goin’ in, and I promise I won't kidnap anyone," I retort, reaching to grab my jacket from the backseat.
"Like you would anyway. You're Mr. 'play it cool', that's how you got yourself into this mess," Jude replies. "Case on the other hand…"
"Hey!" the man says, sounding a little offended.
"You know I lost her number. It wasn't my fault," I argue.
"Yeah, and if I was interested in a woman like Birdie, I'd be comin' down the mountain to get her number again quick smart," Jude replies, giving me a pointed stare in the rear-view mirror.
"Isn't that what we're doin' now ?" Sutton adds.
"Nope." Case shakes his head. "We're stalkin' the poor woman because big brother here is sick of us buggin' him about it and we're tired of him walkin' around with that weird look in his eyes, waitin' for her to call. So now we're doin' our brotherly duty to make sure Will takes the bull by the horns—so to speak—and goes after what he wants."
I take a deep breath and turn to the most sensible brother I have. "Sutt, you'd tell me if this was a bad idea, right?"
He gives me an understanding smile. "Will, I love you. But please put yourself and us out of our misery. Go find the woman and get that date you so desperately want but won't admit you do."
"OK. I'm goin'," I tell them, stepping out into the chilly night air. I adjust the collar of my coat and take a deep breath, trying to muster up some courage. A moment later though, I hear their doors open and close behind me. Turning around, I find my brothers looking at me expectantly. "I can do this, you know?"
"Oh, we know. We have faith in you, brother. We just want that drink you owe us," Jude replies with a knowing smirk. "And if you just happen to need moral support, then we'll be there for that too."
With a huff–albeit a grateful one–we move as a group toward the front of the bar, giving chin lifts and head dips to those offering the same before I push open the wooden doors and step inside.
Noise from the jukebox fills my ears as we enter the crowded Lair. The room is dimly lit, the smell of beer and fried food lingering in the air. Scanning the bar, I search for a familiar face among the sea of waiting strangers.
Then, like a beacon in the night, my eyes are drawn to the side of the large room where I spot her standing behind the bar. I must stop moving because suddenly my body is jerked forward, then again, as my brothers knock into me like falling dominoes.
"I see how it is. She literally stops your world from spinnin'," Jude muses, shifting to my side. "I've heard about it happenin' but I've never seen it happen in real life."
Sutton bumps my shoulder. "You goin’ to just stand here starin', or you goin' to go over there and get your date?"
"Maybe this is a mistake," I say as my heart starts hammering.
"No, it's not. You met this woman two weeks ago, right? You've already seen her three times now, you've swapped numbers, and for some reason or another, neither of you has taken that next step," Case says, pulling me to the side so that we're not blocking the crowd. "This is your chance to show her that you're interested in gettin' to know her better. Just don't tell her that you're mildly obsessed and can't get through a single day without moonin' over her."
My head snaps his way, my eyes narrowed. "I haven't been moonin' over her."
"You have been, Willy-Will," Jude replies. "But since we all know you're not the moonin' type, that means she must be special."
"Which means ," Case adds, "you should wait till she's free then go order the drinks you so graciously offered to buy us. Then you can talk. to. her."
I rub my hands on my jeans, wondering how they can be clammy when it's so cold outside. My heart is still beating strangely too. I can't seem to drag my eyes away from the way Birdie flits and flutters behind the bar, greeting every customer with a wide smile and rosy cheeks as she grabs their drink of choice and stuffs their cash into the apron tied around her curvy waist.
She's just… I can't even put it into words. Whatever it is–whatever this feeling is whenever I'm around her–can't be ignored.
"OK. I'm goin' in," I announce.
"Good luck," Sutton says.
"We'll be over in the corner takin' notes," Case adds.
"Not helpin', Case," Jude says. "It'll be fine, Willy Will. Just say hi, make conversation, and ask when her next break is. Easy peasy."
With that last piece of advice, I walk to the bar and join the back of the line. And then I wait.