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“That’s great. Involved parents are a rarity it seems. Can’t tell you how many ignorant folks I see in the dining room, letting their brats run around while their phones hold their attention. It’s infuriating and customers get upset, especially with the kids who feel the need to tantrum tables away from those who brought them into the world.” He sighed and looked toward the stage in the basin of the hill. “I had to raise my prices slightly to deter some of them.”
“Did it work?” How interesting it was that he raised his prices. I had done the same on his project, but I pretty much had the same amount of guilt ribboning through the idea as he did through his words.
“Sadly, yes.”
“Why sadly?”
“Because rather than being affordable to the masses, now I cater to a smaller crowd.” His voice wasn’t as strong as his previous rant.
“But if it’s a more pleasant customer experience, shouldn’t that outweigh the slight increase?” Sure, I was grasping.
He shrugged. “Maybe. I just don’t want to be known as the place that hates kids.”
“Did you mention that when you raised your prices?” I cocked a brow.
“No.”
“Then I think you’re safe.” I rubbed his leg, trying not to focus on the strong thigh beneath the soft material of his pants. Jesus, I needed help. “Besides, a couple of negative reviews won’t hurt in the long run, right?”
“Yeah, a couple I can handle, but there’s this one, or maybe a bunch of copycats all using the same hashtag, who keep trashing the place. I haven’t even sold that particular product for the last couple of years.”
I swallowed. Since having signed a contract with David, I’d stopped leaving nasty reviews, and as it was, it had been at least a few months, probably longer, since I’d even thought about leaving one. Figured it was over and done with. Perhaps I needed to check the reviews and see if they were originating from one of my accounts, which would be exceptionally weird since even I couldn’t remember the passwords.
I tipped back my beer a little more and swallowed down the top quarter. “I wouldn’t let it worry you then. If your die-hard customers know that fact, then I think you’re good.”
“Still, I aim for perfection.”
“I think you’re nailing it.” I hadn’t meant for it to slip out, but once it was said it was too late to take it back, not that I would’ve. David was pretty damn amazing. “No more talk of work though.” I winked.
The music started playing, and he had been right. We were in the perfect spot to hear it, but not have it overwhelm any conversation. Which we needed to start up again. The silence was hard, but as I raked my gaze over him, he was taking in the sweet melodies. His eyes were closed, his head tipped back slightly, and a small smile teased at the corner of his perfect pout.
I let him listen without interruption until the song finished, and the band introduced themselves. “Did you know that song?”
“The song yes, but not that band. They must be a cover band or something, but I really liked their version.”
“I could tell.” I leaned back on my hands, stretching and pointing my toes.
Another song started, and this one with a punchier beat. Some couples in the basin jumped onto their feet and started dancing.
David looked at them, and then at me. “Want to?”
“Want to what?” My gaze widened.
“Dance?”
“Here? There’s no dance floor.”
“Who cares? It’s a music festival. Come on, let’s move.” He got onto his feet and extended a hand. “Come on. Unless you can’t dance?”
I didn’t really want to, not with people hanging around us on their picnic blankets, ready to stare and judge, however, his words challenged me, and in a flash, I was on my feet. To hell with what others thought.
We hopped and bopped, and by the third song, a person ten years younger than me took over my body and let the music move through to my soul as the cover band played an old Whitney Houston song. It was so freeing to move my body, and truly dance like no one was watching. If they had been, I didn’t notice. I laughed and wiggled around, having more fun in those few minutes than I had in a long time.
The cover band, whose name I didn’t catch, played a few fast songs before starting a slower song.
David offered his hand, and when I accepted, he slowly placed it above his shoulders. My hands linked together around his neck as his arms hooked around my waist and we swayed with the melody.
“I don’t think I know this song,” I whispered, even though we were outside.
