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“Well, he’s pretty cute. And he gives youthat look.”
“What look?”
“The look of someone who’s interested in you.”
Alissa rolled her eyes. “Remember the part where I told you he was my boss? I can’t date my boss.”
“Eh, it’s a small town. And a very small business. Considering how well you’re doing there, you’re basically like business partners.”
Alissa shook her head and laughed, her curls bouncing. “Okay, maybe. And he did ask me to dinner at The Crab on Monday after work.”
“I told you!” Caitlin laughed too, but sobered. “Wait, you’re not going there directly after, are you? You’re coming home first?”
Alissa shrugged. “I wasn’t planning to. It’s a ten minute walk from the office to The Crab so I thought we’d go together.”
“Nope, that won’t do.” Caitlin wrapped her finger around one of Alissa’s spiral curls. “You need to get dolled up before, and I’m going to help you. You can’t go on a date in your combat boots, sorry.”
Alissa snorted. “Fine, it couldn’t hurt. But don’t go too far—Dane said it was just to talk about writing and he’s still my boss.”
“I know, I know,” Caitlin said. “We can still have a lot of fun with a little makeover.”
* * *
“Hey, Ross,” Dane called when he noticed his friend looking around Joe’s, Blueberry Bay’s only bar.
It was a far cry from the cocktail bars where they sometimes met up after work back in Manhattan, but it was nice. It had a long, wooden bar along one side and small tables throughout, just big enough for groups of three. Everything had a tinge of age and wear to it, but it was pristine underneath the scuffs.
Joe, the owner and namesake, was always behind the bar, serving up a menu of mostly beer and basic cocktails. He had been a fisherman when he was younger, so much of the clientele was the same. Dane had sometimes gone at off hours if he wanted a change of pace or if he wanted a drink and The Crab was too busy.
“Hey!” Ross smiled and crossed the bar. “How are you?”
“Not bad. How are you?”
“Not bad either.” Ross slid onto the barstool next to Dane. “Sorry I’m a little late. I couldn’t find this place.”
Joe’s didn’t have an online presence whatsoever, and it blended in with the rest of the town so well that it was easy to walk past it—a true hole in the wall. Music was always playing, but it wasn’t so loud as to draw attention from the sidewalk. Dane didn’t blame Ross for missing it at all.
“No worries.”
“So this is your local drink spot?” Ross looked around. He looked almost as out of place as Dane had when he first arrived. Much like Dane did most of the time, Ross dressed well in a blue and green striped sweater, a pea coat, and dark jeans.
Today Dane had dressed down a little in a flannel shirt, faded jeans, and some older boots that he didn’t wear often. After the surfing competition yesterday, he felt more comfortable going out in more casual clothes. He hadn’t realized how dressing up was a shield for him in some ways, making him a little less approachable. He didn’t plan to wear jeans to work, but he could loosen up outside of the office.
“Not my main place, but I’ve been here a few times. I’d take you to The Crab, which is my main spot, but I’m going there tomorrow. As much as I love it, I still feel a little weird being a regular at places. They know my name, what I usually like, and even what we talked about last.”
“Wow. You don’t find that back in the city all that often.”
“What can I get you fellas to drink?” Joe asked, wiping down the bar in front of them. He studied Ross for a moment, then handed him a paper menu.
“I’ll just take whatever IPA you have,” Dane said.
“And I’ll have…” Ross scanned the list. Joe kept beers from a few local places in rotation, but he rarely ever carried the fancier brands that Ross was used to. “The same, I guess.”
Joe nodded and went to the fridge underneath the bar, coming up with two bottles. He placed them in front of each man and popped the lids before going to help someone else.
“What’s going on at The Crab tomorrow?” Ross asked, tentatively sipping his beer. He nodded in surprise when he realized it was good.
“I’m meeting up with one of my writers. Well, my only writer.”
