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She takes his hand and smiles back at him. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too. Ever been country dancing?”
She shakes her head. “Nope.”
“Ah, you’ll love it. Right, Mack?”
“Maybe another night. Tonight, I wanna show her Bruce,” I announce.
With a laugh, he slaps his weathered hand against my shoulder and argues, “Nah, you wanna check in on your investment, don’t you?”
“Who’s Bruce?” Kate interjects.
Rowdy chuckles. “He’s a mean sonofabitch.”
He’s right. Bruce has put plenty of men on their asses, but first, I need food.
“Can we get a table?” I request.
“Sure thing, man.” He grabs a couple of menus from the hostess table. “Follow me.”
Once we’re seated and Rowdy’s finally given us some space, Kate quizzes me, “Investment?”
I squeeze the back of my neck and open my menu, pretending to read the options, though I don’t see a word. I hate talking about my money. I hate talking about how I won it. I hate talking about how, in a way, it took my daughters from me. And I hate how people treat me differently as soon as they find out about it. I don’t think Kate will. At least, I hope not. But if I’ve learned anything since winning it, it’s you never know how people will react. What people will ask for.
“You don’t have to tell me,” she starts, drowning in my silence.
“It’s not a big deal,” I reply. “I came into some money a while back and ran into Rowdy. He started telling me about his idea, and I thought, why not? Can’t take it with me.”
“So, you invested in his restaurant?”
I shrug. “Yeah. The food’s great, and I thought the idea of teaching country dancing along with some live music, well-priced alcohol, and a fun environment would be a good fit for the college kids who aren’t interested in SeaBird.”
She looks around the packed restaurant, taking in the dance floor littered with people in cowboy hats, the bar along the back wall, and the stage dusted with peanut shells. Turning to me again, she notes, “Seems like you’re onto something. Does this mean you bringing me here had nothing to do with the flashing lights at SeaBird?”
I should’ve known she’d catch onto one of the reasons I thought Rowdy’s might be a better fit for her than SeaBird. I wanted to give her a night off from her disease instead of shining a light on it. I motion to the dance floor on our left. “You also mentioned you’re interested in dancing.”
“Technically, there’s dancing at SeaBird.”
“Yeah, but dancing at SeaBird makes me feel like an old man.”
“And country dancing doesn’t?” she quips.
“Guess it depends on the day.”
“Does this mean you actually know how to country dance?”
“I may have picked up a thing or two.”
Her lips thin as if she’s holding back her amusement. “You’ll have to show me whatcha got one of these days.”
“Maybe after I brush up on my skills,” I tell her. “It’s been a while.”
“Can’t wait.” Her mouth quirks as her gaze catches on something behind me. “Wait. Is that a mechanical bull?”
“His name’s Bruce.”
“That’sBruce?”
