Chapter Seventeen
Brew
“D amn, you look like hell.”
I lift the ball cap I have pulled over my eyes and look up to see my buddy Anson.
“What are you doing on my deck?” I ask.
“You and I are supposed to go to Willis’s this morning, remember?”
Shit. I forgot.
I was at the bar until five this morning, then stopped at Waffle Castle for breakfast. I made it home as the sun was coming up, but I didn’t make it inside. I plopped into a lounger on the deck and fell asleep here.
I scrub my hands over my face as I sit up. “Yeah, right. Sorry, man. It was a late night. I literally had to peel the girls off Cody and the rest of the band to get them out the door. The bar was a madhouse. It took forever to clean up. Then I had to take stock inventory to place the liquor order.”
He chuckles as he takes a seat on the lounger beside me. “I bet you can’t wait for Audrey to get home.”
“I have no idea how the woman does it. I’m gonna have to give her a raise.”
“That’s a good idea! I’m sure she could use it for the wedding,” he says.
“So, he did it?” I ask.
He nods. “Yep, last night. He took her out on the river in a boat called the Creole Queen for a romantic sunset dinner cruise. He even pulled the cheesy ring in the champagne flute move.”
“Must have worked for him,” I say.
Anson shrugs. “Chicks like cheese.”
He would know. Last year, he made the ultimate romantic gesture when he proposed to his girlfriend, Tabby.
They’d met when she entered his mother’s jewelry store, mistakenly thinking it was a pawn shop.
Stranded on the island, she was looking to sell her jewelry.
Seeing that she was distraught, Anson used his own money to buy her pieces, including an antique ruby ring that had belonged to her grandmother.
He hoped she would use the money to travel, but fate had other plans.
Instead, she decided to stay, and they crossed paths again.
What started as a friendship quickly blossomed into lust and then love.
He proposed to her with the same ring he had bought from her—of course, with a significant diamond upgrade.
“Yeah, well, I’m happy for them,” I say.
“Me too. Damn, sure took them long enough to get there,” he says.
Parker and Audrey were high-school sweethearts.
During his senior year, they went through a traumatic experience together.
Afterward, Parker left with Anson and Sebastian to work for my family on my grandfather’s yacht.
When he returned to Sandcastle Cove, he tried to reconnect with Audrey, but it took some time for him to win back her trust. They’ve done a lot of healing over the past year.
“I can’t believe all of you are getting hitched. Even Lennon was talking about engagement rings the other night,” I quip.
“Yep. We’re all carrying around the old ball and chain now,” he replies, playfully smacking my chest. “Except for you. You need to date a girl for a minute before you can propose to one.”
“I’m not that bad,” I defend.
He quirks a brow. “When’s the last time you were in a relationship?”
“A relationship?” I blow out a long breath. “College, I guess.”
“College? Dude, you’re almost forty.”
“I know how old I am. And speaking of dating, where do you take a girl you want to impress, but not over-impress?”
“Over-impress? Is that a thing?” he asks.
“You know what I mean.”
He sits up. “What are we talking about here?” Anson asks.
“I met this girl at the bar on Friday night. We had a good time. I liked her, and I liked the fact that she thought I was just the bartender. It was nice to be looked at by a woman who saw me and not dollar signs. I want to see her again, take her out on a date—something nice you’d do if you were on a budget. ”
He bursts into laughter.
“What?” I ask.
“You act like you didn’t grow up here with us. We never had trust funds to work with, and we did just fine.”
“I know. But I’ve relied on my name and bank account to do all the romancing for me for the last decade,” I admit.
“And now you have to actually put in some effort, and it scares you,” he says, amusement in his voice.
“Scares? No.”
He raises a brow.
“Okay, maybe a little.”
The corners of his mouth lift in a smug grin. “Well, you came to the right place, bro. I’ve been charming the pants off women with nothing but this face and a McDonald’s budget since high school.”
I’m already regretting this decision.
“But for the record, I think you should just tell her who you are. It’d make the whole wooing her thing a lot easier.”
“That’s just the thing. I’m tired of taking the easy route. I want her to see me without the Cartwright racing dynasty goggles on. Just me. Brew, the bartender.”
“But you’re not just Brew, the bartender,” he points out.
“But if she falls for Brew, the bartender, then I know it’s me she wants, not the trust fund,” I say.
He nods. “I guess I get it. That’s never been a problem I’ve faced before.”
It has always been a problem for me. Women often see me as nothing more than a potential source of financial gain, and I can’t say I ever minded it before because I understood the deal.
I didn’t have much time to worry about their intentions being sincere.
I would take them out for nice dinners and shower them with expensive gifts, and in return, they would keep my bed warm for a while.
We both got what we wanted from the relationship.
Well, some women wanted more—a ring on their finger and a mansion by the beach—but I was never willing to go that far.
“Okay then, let’s go to Willis’s. We’ll get our hands greasy and brainstorm budget-conscious dating ideas,” he says as he stands.
Yep. Definitely regret it.