Chapter Nine
It had been three days since they’d gone public with their mismatched relationship aims. That Gigi was just using Nico for sex. Whilst his intentions were of a more respectable nature with him trying to win over more than just Gigi’s libido.
Their announcement appeared to have divided the support of the Southern Sanctuary inhabitants right down the middle. Based mainly upon gender.
The women vocally supporting Gigi embracing her feminist rights to put her own needs first, and not get bogged down in any patriarchal stereotypical straitjacket male - female relationship paradigm.
The local males came out in force to support Nico, offering sage advice and personal anecdotes that they thought he might find useful.
Though Nico had no idea how bad things could get until today, when Gigi volunteered that she needed to do some planning for a beach bikini blow-out come one-hundred and second birthday party, offering to work in the apartment above the bar so Nico could put in some hours.
Plus, he really needed to take a break from all the useless research he’d been doing over the last few days.
Although right now he was missing the frustrating go-nowhere activity.
“Beautiful girl.”
“Aye.”
“Aye.”
“Aye.”
It was like a flock of seagulls had taken up residence at his bar instead of five gentlemen from the Seniors Retirement Community, all well over one hundred and thirty-plus in age, but none looking older than their early seventies.
All regulars. Terrance Dunst. Sigmund Galt.
Kenneth Torrent. Cain Bright. And John Collins.
Though they didn’t normally choose to sit at the bar and chat with Nico.
“Woman.”
“What’s that?”
“You can’t call them girls anymore, it’s disrespectful.”
“Aye.” Echoed back in response from four different directions.
“Beautiful woman, then.”
“Aye.” Again, times four.
“A real sweetheart and smart.”
“Aye, a genius no less.”
“Aye, an expert in how many fields now?”
“Too many to count with just as many PhDs and Masters under her belt.”
Nico eyed the gleaming mahogany countertop. If he started banging his head against it, would they stop? Probably not.
“You’ve chosen a hard road to travel.”
“Aye.” Times four.
“Ah, but when the going gets tough, the tough get going.”
Punctuated by more – Ayes. What the hell were these men going on about? Perhaps Nico should double-check the alcohol content of the beer he was serving them.
“But a woman of Gigi’s calibre would be worth any amount of effort, if a man could win her heart.”
Finally, everything they’d been saying for the last half hour made sense.
Well, not sense, but he understood their meanderings.
And of course they had been talking about Gigi.
He wasn’t an idiot. Gorgeous. Genius. Were these elderly men really giving him relationship advice in the guise of a supportive pep talk? Saint Medard, give him strength.
Banging his head against the bar top until he knocked himself out was once more looking like the best way to avoid any more of this hell.
Damn it. He couldn’t even leave, he had to stay within fifty feet of Gigi, currently obliviously working away upstairs. And he couldn’t excuse himself and hide in the kitchen. His new chef was feeling a little insecure at the moment and got nervous every time Nico entered his domain.
No, he was stuck tending bar. Listening to this flock of gentleman give advice and encouragement intended for a lovesick suitor. A label that he had stupidly pinned on himself.
Why?
It wasn’t because Benedict DeWitt’s uniform or accompanying scowl had been intimidating. Or that Cam McKenzie’s constant look of loathing directed his way was finally beginning to get to him.
Where the four McKenzie brothers got off thinking he was some dastardly lothario, Nico would never know.
Not only was their kid sister, Riordan, an employee, but she was barely twenty-one.
Nico respected and liked her, and more importantly, so did his customers.
She was friendly, on time and diligent. Which meant putting up with her constantly lurking brothers.
But there was just something about the way Cam’s hand had been resting upon his holstered gun as the two men confronted him on the sundeck three days ago.
Something that rubbed Nico the wrong way.
And before he knew it he was opening his mouth, declaring his intentions were entirely honourable when it came to Gigi.
And watching their expressions freeze with a mix of surprise and peevish suspicion.
Hah, didn’t see that one coming, did they?
Watching them stomp off had felt good. Although ten seconds later all the possible problems that he might have just created for himself began to rain metaphorically down like hailstones.
Fucking Hell, had he always been this stupid, or was it the double whammy curses battering away at him that contributed to his sudden rashness?
From that moment on he swore he wouldn’t say anything about Gigi and their faux relationship. He would just shut up, hold her hand, and kiss her occasionally in public.
And there was nothing these elderly relatives of Gigi’s could tell him about her that he was the slightest bit interested in.
“Thought for sure that egghead from Switzerland would nab her.”
“Really? My money was on the billionaire who wanted to buy her recipes and go global with them. He was tall. And a good looking lad.”
“Maybe, but he wasn’t as tall as the one from the Think tank, who was trying to wine, dine, and convince her to come work with him.”
“Please, no one was better looking than that astronaut NASA sent. You know, the one with all the hair, muscles and degrees.”
“Aye.”
“Aye.”
“Aye.”
“Aye.”
Say what now? The lure of the countertop was forgotten as Nico tried to process what his circle of aged supporters had just let drop. “Ah, these men, they’re all Gigi’s former boyfriends?”
“Is boyfriends the right term?”
“Manfriends?”
“Bollocks to political correctness, I’m not ever saying that word.”
“Let’s just stick to boyfriends then, and yes, to answer your question, they were all at one time romantically linked with Gigi.”
“A scientist. A billionaire. A Think tank genius. And an astronaut?”
Cain Bright clicked his fingers. “Oh, we’re forgetting that French one…”
“Oh, yes, the Michelin star chef. His crepes were really good. And they had so much in common. I never got why she broke up with him.”
“I never understood why she broke up with any of them.” Cain murmured. “But I’m sure you’ll break the streak, Nico. We have faith in you. Don’t we, lads?”
“Aye.” Times four. Glasses chinking.
“Remember. The greater the challenge, the more worthy the prize.”
Huh, Nico fought the urge to rub his forehead. Was he getting a headache?
“It takes two to tango, but you gotta get them on the dancefloor first.”
Definitely a headache.
“If your heart is pure, love will prevail, but be tenacious as all heck just in case.”
Bloody hell.
“Be supportive of her life choices, and don’t try and push your own agenda onto her. They hate that.”
“Compliment her on her achievements, things she’s proud of.”
“Oh, good one.”
“It’s the little things that will tip the balance. Give her thoughtful gifts for no reason.”
“But not chocolates.”
“Goddess, no. You don’t give a florist flowers and you don’t give a chocolatier chocolates.”
“I love her pineapple and ginger rings.”
“Raspberry rum balls for me.”
“I’m more of a white chocolate, champagne and peach truffle man, myself.”
Nico didn’t suffer from migraines, but he had a feeling this might be his first beginning to gather.
He should just let them natter away. Their glasses were almost empty, they rarely stayed for more than two drinks.
If he just stood there, gritted his teeth and smiled, they’d be gone in a few minutes.
Except, even as he was thinking that his mouth was opening and words were coming out.
“A real astronaut? Like going into space and all that?” Surely not.
“He’s still up there, I think.”
“Yeah, there’s been, what, three delays on their retrieval so far?”
“So they broke up because he was going on a long mission?” Who was operating his mouth? Nico no longer knew.
Cain Bright drained the last of his beer, getting to his feet, all the others copying him. For a second Nico didn’t think he was going to get an answer, but Terrance Dunst took pity on him.
“Nah. I think he was willing to give up on all that space malarkey if Gigi had given any indication she was really serious about him.”
“Aye.” Times four in agreement.
“Poor bastard. How’s he going to meet anyone new up there in space and get over our Gigi?”
All five gentlemen expelled solemn sighs and then laughed, Terrance reaching across the bar to thump Nico on the shoulder. “But don’t you worry, lad. We have faith you’ll go the distance.”
“Just remember…”
All five were expounding more platitudes as they exited, talking over one another as they did so. Nico waved them farewell. Saint Medard of the Storms at Sea. He threw Digby, working up the other end of the bar, a clean cloth. “I’m out.”
He couldn’t take anymore well-meaning advice, looks, or platitudes.
Hah, but he didn’t really have anywhere he could go.
Except upstairs where Gigi was hanging out, doing him a favour today so he could work the bar.
Okay, he’d head upstairs and check on her, enquire if she had any thoughts on what they should do for dinner.
Whatever it was, he prayed it was something simple and be somewhere private.