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Chapter5
Jace kept half an eye on the door while he chatted with customers, made drinks, placed food orders and kept his bar clean. One day after Labor Day, and the island pace had already shifted from the frantic level of summer to the slower off-season groove. He liked that groove, even if he’d make less money than he had in the summer.
Libby, the Beachcomber general manager, had warned him to be careful with his money if he planned to stay for the off-season. The summer, she’d said, paid for the rest of the year. With those words of wisdom in mind, Jace had banked most of what he’d made in the summer, which he hoped would keep him afloat during the long winter.
She’d also told him that he’d make an insane amount during the summer, which was exactly what’d happened. “People tend to go crazy when they’re making big money,” Libby had said. “They’re not thinking about what happens in September when the tourists quit coming.”
Thinking about surviving the off-season kept him from obsessing about whether Cindy would show.
When was the last time he’d wanted anything as much as he wanted to see her smiling face? If she didn’t come, then he had his answer about the room—and their friendship, such as it was. While he waited, he unboxed the games he’d bought on the discount rack at the department store, thinking they’d be fun for the regulars during the winter months.
He’d gotten two checkerboards, a chess set and Yahtzee for ten bucks. As he set them out, musician Niall Fitzgerald took a seat at the bar, as he did every night that he worked. The Irishman had short dark hair and vivid blue eyes. “That’s a fun idea,” he said of the games.
“I thought it might be something to help pass the time in the off-season.”
“The customers will love it, and it’ll keep them coming in.”
“Along with your music and my charming personality,” Jace said with a grin for the man who’d become a friend.
“That goes without saying.”
“Ready for the usual?” Jace asked.
“Yep.”
“No point in telling you the specials, I suppose,” he said, as he did every night.
“Nope. I’m in a burger-and-fries rut and staying there for now.”
“Coming right up.” Jace punched the food order into the computer and drew the single Guinness Niall allowed himself on a work night. He’d made an artform out of nursing that one beer for hours while he strummed his guitar and sang for the patrons. Listening to Niall was one of the most enjoyable aspects of the job for Jace.
Cindy was the most enjoyable aspect, though. She was like a ray of sunshine sitting at his bar, making everyone she encountered feel like they were the most important person in her world. Or maybe it was just him who felt that way around her.
She was late.
It was seven fifteen, and she was always there by seven.
He was crushed.
As soon as he’d seen that she would be his potential roommate, he should’ve taken a pass on the room, so she’d never have needed to know about his shady past. What woman in her right mind would take an ex-con, recovering drug addict into her home? If she were his daughter, he’d tell her to stay away from guys like him.
Her answer would be no, and he’d been a fool to hope otherwise.
After their AA meeting that morning, Mason had told him about a place for rent on his street. It was a full house, so probably more than he could afford, but Jace would check it out tomorrow.
He went to the kitchen to retrieve Niall’s food and was returning to the bar when Cindy walked through the door. The relief he experienced at seeing her was similar to how he’d felt when he’d learned he was being paroled early for good behavior.
Somehow, he managed to complete the delivery of Niall’s dinner and settle himself to greet her with his usual casual smile, even if nothing about this was casual. Not for him, anyway. He put a glass of ice water with a lemon on the bar for her. She’d told him she suffered from migraines. He had questions about that but hadn’t gotten around to asking her. “How’s it going?” he asked.
“Good. You?”
“Better now.” He smiled at the way she blushed. God, she was adorable. “I thought you were ghosting me.”
“What? Why?”
“You’re late.”
She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Oh, I was at the Surf listening to my sister and ran into my grandmother. We got to talking, and I lost track of the time.”
