by LuAnn McLane
“Sounds like she’s a dedicated, hard worker.”
“I fully appreciate hard work, but the difference is that this was her dream. Her passion. It’s not always like work to her, making it even more difficult to steal her away.”
“And it sounds like her jewelry is more like a work of art.” Tristan had read that as well.
“Exactly! Tristan, I had to convince her that her jewelry was worth a helluva lot more than what she was asking.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to go on and on. I’m just proud of her. And she put her dream on hold for her own daughter’s sake while I missed so much of Mia’s childhood.” He looked across the room and grinned. “Speak of the devil,” he said and waved. A moment later a gorgeous young blonde hurried over to their table.
“Daddy!”
“What are you doing here, sweetie?”
“I’m trying to get Pete Sully to put a buy-one-get-one discount coupon on the back of the Cougar’s admission tickets. We called it Stub and Grub last season and it went over well.”
Mitch winked at his daughter. “I’m sure you’ll talk him into it again.”
She grinned and held her thumb and index finger an inch apart. “I’m this close. I reminded him that business has increased twenty percent since he bought a billboard in centerfield.”
“Excellent,” Mitch said, and she seemed to beam beneath his praise. “Mia, I’d like you to meet Tristan McMillan.”
Mia extended her hand. “Nice to meet you, Tristan. I think we’re living in the same condo complex by the stadium? Do you like it there?”
“Yeah, I like the view of the river and the amenities are amazing.”
“I thought I’d seen you over there. Welcome to Cricket Creek…and don’t tell me we have another Chicago transplant?”
“Actually, I’m from northern Kentucky and live in Cincinnati, Ohio.”
“Hmm, I thought I detected a bit of a Southern drawl in your voice?”
“Well, I’ve lived in Cincinnati for a while but my mother grew up here in Cricket Creek and I’ve always had a touch of the South in my tone. Going to school in Lexington added to that.”
Mia nodded. “Oh, I know. I’m told that I’m starting to pick up a twang too.” She wrinkled her nose at her father. “Dad laughs at me but I love it.”
Mitch scooted from the bench and gave his daughter a hug. “Are you staying for karaoke?”
“Hmm…” She nibbled on the inside of her cheek. “I should get back to the office and do some paperwork.”
Mitch frowned. “Noah has you working too many hours.”
Mia chuckled. “I bet you never thought you’d have to say that to me. Did you, Daddy?”
Mitch flicked Tristan a glance and grinned. “Nope.”
“Actually, Noah chased me out of the office and told me to come here and have a martini and to put it on his tab.” She shrugged and held up her glass. “I decided to multitask.”
“I can’t argue with that,” Mitch admitted. “But give yourself a break and have some fun, okay? I know you’re missing Cam, and getting out will help.”
“I probably will. Bella is helping Nicolina out at the shop, but she’s going to come over later and wants me to stay. I texted Madison, and if she will take a break from the new play she’s writing, she said she’ll stop over too. Maybe we’ll even sing.” She wiggled her eyebrows and giggled.
“You need to get Nicolina to come over and hang out with you girls,” Mitch told her. “It will do her some good. And Jessica and Olivia too, for that matter. Ty can babysit and bring Noah over to help. Surely the two of them can handle one small toddler.”
Mia laughed. “Ty popped into my office the other day and said that watching his son was more tiring than playing nine innings of major league baseball but I’ll try,” Mia promised, and then smiled at Tristan. “It was nice to meet you, and I’ll apologize for my singing in advance. After a couple of Sully’s martinis I suddenly think I’m Adele.”
“She’s not,” Mitch said.
Tristan smiled as Mia walked away. “Your daughter seems like a sweet girl.”
“I’m a lucky man,” he said in a suddenly husky voice. “But let’s get back to why you’re here.” They discussed various possibilities for the riverfront property, pausing only when his tossed salad and Mitch’s coleslaw arrived. Tristan found Mitch Monroe’s insight and knowledge fascinating and soaked up everything he said like a sponge. Over their entrées Tristan realized that not only did Mitch have a keen sense of business savvy but he threw in some life lessons as well. He also had a dry sense of humor, which kept Tristan entertained, and he was thoroughly enjoying himself until he looked across the room and spotted Savannah.
Since Tristan and Mitch were in a pretty much secluded booth, Savannah hadn’t spotted him, but as he watched her walk over to a high-topped table with some dude in a cowboy hat, Tristan was hit with a big dose of white-hot jealousy. Kate and Ben sat down with them but his attention was focused on Savannah and the cowboy. When the cowboy said something close to her ear that made her laugh, it was all Tristan could do not to stomp over there and drag her away from the table like some sort of crazy caveman.
“What’s her name?” Mitch asked, drawing Tristan’s attention.
“Who?” Tristan tried to fake but Mitch wasn’t having it.
“The pretty redhead that you’re staring at.”
Tristan pulled his eyes away from Savannah and looked across the booth at Mitch. “Savannah Perry,” he said.
“And?”
“And what?”
“I definitely think there’s much more to it.”
“How did you know?”
“Well your tone for starters and the fact that you’ve held that bite of food inches from your mouth for the past few minutes. Like you forgot it was there.”
“Okay…busted.” Tristan put down the fork that still had spaghetti neatly twirled around it. “She’s the social director at Whisper’s Edge. That’s Kate Winston, the manager of the community, and Ben Bakersfield, the maintenance man, sitting with her.”
“And the cowboy?”
“I don’t know the…cowboy,” he answered tightly.
“So, you’ve got a thing for Savannah.” He didn’t ask but stated what must be the obvious so Tristan didn’t even bother to deny it.
“Yeah.” Tristan then told Mitch a much abbreviated explanation of how the residents had basically adopted her as their collective and shared granddaughter.
“Oh boy.”
Tristan nodded and then flicked a glance over to the table in time to see the cowboy flash a white-toothed grin at Savannah.
“And she has no idea that you’re planning to redevelop the community into something other than what it is?”
“Not a clue.” Tristan paused to take the last swallow of his ale. Although he knew it wasn’t a smart business practice to disclose any of his personal life, Mitch sort of compelled him to do so. Plus, he was already busted, anyway. “To be fair, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with it so I didn’t feel the need to worry anyone.”
“And it gets worse, doesn’t it?”
Tristan gave Mitch a level look, and then sighed. “They’re all under the impression I’ve bought my grandfather’s failing business and saved it from foreclosure, thus saving their community.”
“And you are the big hero?”
“Uh, yeah. Mitch, they sang ‘For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow.’”
“Ouch.”
“I know.”
“Which nobody can deny…but you.”
“And I didn’t.”
“And gorgeous little Savannah looks at you with adoring eyes.”
“Pretty much.” Tristan nodded slowly. “That’s why I’m trying to keep my distance.”
“And how’s that working out for ya?”
“Not well.” Tristan waited, hoping that Mitch would tell him that all is fair in business and that—like he had already justified to himself—the develo
pment would be for the greater good of the community. He felt compelled to mention that last part to Mitch, hoping that he would agree wholeheartedly and even expound upon the notion. “Advice?” he finally asked.
Mitch looked at Tristan with those piercing blue eyes and sighed. “If you had asked me this question a few years ago I’d have told you that business is business and not always easy. Sometimes you have to be tough to the point of being just shy of ruthless, but you were a successful attorney in a big law firm. You already know that.”
Tristan nodded. “I do.”
“I would have also advised you to remain emotionally distant and to keep your eyes on the prize.”
“But you’re not telling me that now?”
“Not exactly. Keep your eyes on the prize, Tristan,” he said slowly and firmly. “But the question is: what is the prize? Consider what you really want out of life.” Mitch angled his head. “It took me a long-ass time to figure it out and I can tell you one thing for sure.”
“That it isn’t about money?”
Mitch chuckled. “Eh…like I said, I still love making money. I just love other things…people, that is, more.”
Tristan frowned. “Then, what is the one thing?”
“It’s simple Tristan. Just do what makes you happy. Once you figure that out the rest is pretty damned easy.”
“I guess figuring it out is the hard part.”
“If you let it be.” Mitch nodded. “Yep, I’m a living, breathing example of throwing myself into what I thought would bring me happiness and satisfaction. I was dead-ass wrong because I had blinders on. Whatever you decide, Tristan, do it for all the right reasons. Clear as mud?”
“Uh…yeah.”
Mitch grinned. “Take the blinders off and see the whole picture. There’s more around you than the finish line.”
“I’ll try.”
“Well, I’ll muddy the waters even more and tell you that I am interested in the marina project and buying the property outright. I’m not sure which one but the interest is definitely there.”
“Thank you.” Tristan mustered up a smile, but he was annoyed with himself for letting his personal life enter into a business discussion. But after Savannah had come in with the damned cowboy his good sense flew out the window.
Mitch looked down at his watch. “I’d better head on out. I’m going to try to get Nicolina to come out with the girls and take a breather and I think it will take some doing.”
“I’ve got the tab,” Tristan said when Mitch reached for his wallet.
“Thanks, Tristan. I’ll be in touch,” he said as he slid from the booth.
Tristan stood up and shook his hand. “I appreciate your time and the advice. It was truly a pleasure meeting you.”
“Same here. Good luck.”
After Mitch left, Tristan sat back down and ordered another Bourbon Barrel Ale. He knew he should probably leave but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Instead, he nursed his drink, watched Savannah having fun, and brooded.
Just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, the karaoke started, and after a really horrible but funny version of Shania Twain’s “Man! I Feel Like a Woman,” the cowboy who seemed to be on a date with Savannah walked up and stood behind the mic. Tristan couldn’t help hoping he sucked.
“Turn on the music and let the lights down low…” the cowboy crooned in a deep Josh Turner voice.
He didn’t suck. People actually stopped eating and conversation ceased. Tristan saw Kate nudge Savannah with her elbow, and Savannah nodded and smiled before turning her attention back to the cowboy just as he sang, “I wanna be your man.…” Tristan swore he looked directly at Savannah.
“Hit a sour note,” Tristan said beneath his breath and then felt like a jackass for hoping something so petty. Plus, his wish wasn’t granted. Oh no, when the cowboy finished the song the crowd roared for more.
“Let’s hear it for Jeff Greenfield,” the disc jockey needlessly shouted. “Fresh from the recording studio in Nashville, Tennessee!”
Oh great. Of course…
“Will we hear you on the radio soon, Jeff?”
Jeff tipped his cowboy hat and looked humble. “I’ve got some demo tapes out there so keep your fingers crossed for me,” he said in a deep voice that sounded like honey-laced Southern Comfort.
“Mind if I ask for requests before we open the floor back up?” the disc jockey asked.
“‘Firecracker’!” a woman shouted, and Jeff looked at the disc jockey.
“I’ve got that one,” he said, referring to another Josh Turner song that really got the crowd going. People actually got up and started dancing. When they wouldn’t allow Jeff to sit down, he went into the old-school Randy Travis classic “Forever and Ever, Amen.”
If Tristan hadn’t been so damned jealous he would have enjoyed the performance. Although he preferred classic rock he had a deep appreciation for country music. He glanced over at Savannah. Apparently so did she…well at least a deep appreciation for the singer.
Tristan sat there for a long moment, wondering if he should stay and be tortured or leave and be tortured. Should he go over there and say hello and hope for an invitation to sit down? Or maybe ask a girl to dance and try to make Savannah jealous? He didn’t even bother reminding himself that he was supposed to keep his distance. That plan just wasn’t going to work.
Leave it to him to fall for a girl who was probably going to end up despising him.
Jeff the cowboy started singing again and Tristan swore that the women in the audience collectively sighed. Okay, scratch the last make-her-jealous plan of attack. Tristan drained his beer and decided to just pay his tab and leave.
Tristan was halfway out of the booth when the cowboy walked back to his table and put his hand on Savannah’s back while he leaned in and said something to her. She tipped her head sideways and laughed. The cowboy’s hand remained there and when he rubbed her back and then squeezed her shoulder Tristan scooted back into the booth. Enough was enough.
Game on.
17
A Wing and a Prayer
“YOU HAVE AN AMAZING VOICE,” SAVANNAH SAID AFTER THE applause finally died down.
“Thanks.” Jeff tipped his hat and flashed a humble grin. “I’m glad you liked it.” He gave her shoulder a final squeeze and then sat.
“You’ve surely got a bright future ahead of you,” Kate said, and Ben nodded his agreement.
“I wish. But it’s a tough, competitive industry. There’s a lot of talent out there. I’m just one of thousands.” He glanced over at Kate and a look passed between them.
“I, for one, hope you don’t give up,” Kate said firmly.
“I don’t think you’re the only one who hopes that,” Ben chimed in with a grin. “I swear, the ladies in the crowd were swooning.” He fanned his face, getting a chuckle from Jeff. “What’s your secret, you know, other than youth and talent?”
“It’s the hat.” Jeff touched the brim of his black Stetson.
“I think I might have to get me one.” Ben wiggled his eyebrows at Kate. “What do you think?”
“You could definitely rock the hat.” Kate gave his shoulder a playful shove.
“Why, thank you.” When Ben reached down and put his hand over Kate’s, Savannah felt a flash of surprise at the open show of affection and had to hide her reaction by taking a drink of her beer. They both seemed so happy and Savannah hoped with all her heart that whatever was developing between them grew stronger and deeper.
“Hey, I have an idea,” Kate announced over someone singing a loud but very bad cover of “Friends in Low Places.” Luckily the crowd didn’t seem to care and joined in. “Jeff, would you mind coming over to Whisper’s Edge sometime soon to perform at the community center? Savannah, we could plan a country music night. Have a barbecue? Do some two-steppin’?”
“That’s a great idea!” Savannah agreed. “Jeff?”
“Sure, I’d love to.” Jeff smiled at Savannah. “Just give me a
date and I’ll keep it open.”
“I’ll do that,” Savannah answered and noticed that he had a very cute dimple when he smiled. “We’ll charge a cover that will go directly to you.”
“Ah, not necessary.” Jeff was positively gorgeous in a sexy, country-boy way and she couldn’t help but be flattered that he was giving her all of his attention when he could have any girl in the room.
“That’s very generous of you, Jeff,” Savannah said. “I’m sure the event will be a big hit.”
“I’ll do my best.” Jeff’s laid-back but playful demeanor made him very likeable, and the man had a mouth made for kissing. His aftershave wafted her way, woodsy and clean, and she waited for the tug of desire to hit her that she always felt when around Tristan. So far, it was a no-show. Still, she was having a good time. Perhaps the attraction was simmering beneath the surface. She just needed to give it a little bit more time.
“I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before,” Kate added.
A moment later Pete Sully walked over to their table with a bucketful of Bud Light dangling from his beefy hand. “I come bearing gifts,” he announced in his big booming voice that matched his imposing body. He was, however, a gentle giant and well liked throughout the town. After plunking the bucket down in the center of the table he said, “Jeff, how would you like to have a singing gig here on the weekends?” Sully tugged on his beard and waited for Jeff’s answer. “You’d get a generous portion of the cover charge and drink for free,” he added.
“He’s concentrating on Nashville, Pete,” Kate interrupted and got a nudge from Ben.
“Are you his road manager, Miss Kate?” Pete asked.
“No, just an interfering aunt,” Ben answered for her.
“Hey, I’m just sayin’,” Kate said.
“That so?” Sully handed Jeff a cold beer. “You headin’ back to Nashville?”
“I’m not really sure. I’ve been singing in Nashville at the honky-tonks for tips for a while now.” Jeff twisted off the cap and shrugged. “And I’ve got some demos out there making the rounds but I thought I might stay here in Cricket Creek for a few weeks and sort things out. So, yeah, at least for the time being I would be happy to sing on weekends.”