He was adorable. The girls at school were goners. “Off you go, then. Shoo. I can’t be responsible for the chairwoman bringing down the law on you.”
He stared at her a moment, and she almost wiped a hand over her face to see if she had something stuck there. “What?”
He replaced his hat and shook his head. “Nothing. Have a good day.”
“See ya.” She bussed his area and took the bills to the register. Yup. Over-tipped by a long shot. She shook her head and hoped he didn’t see their conversations as a reason to have to go so far over the typical fifteen percent. Maybe she’d dial back the friendliness a little.
But something about him just struck her heart. He was almost like the little brother she’d wanted when she was younger.
“Cutie pie gone?” Amanda walked by with an armful of dishes and deposited them for the dishwasher to handle.
“Cutie pie?”
“J. J.”
“Oh. Jeff,” Jo corrected. “He’s going by Jeff now, as he informed me.”
Amanda rolled her eyes. “That’ll stick, like, never. He’s been J. J. since he was born, and J. J. he shall stay, if anyone in this town has something to say about it.”
They shouldn’t, but Jo didn’t bother saying anything.
Amanda cocked a hip on the edge of the bar and surveyed the dwindling lunch crowd. “I know you have this thing about gossip, but if it’s about another business, it’s more like industry news, right?”
Jo raised a brow. “Sure, I guess.”
“Gimmie’s is closing.”
Jo’s hands nearly dropped the tall glass she was hand washing in the bar sink. “Run that by me again?”
“Gimmie’s, down the street. It’s closing.”
“I know where Gimmie’s is,” Jo said softly, eyes staring straight ahead. Gimmie’s was one of the other two bars located within town. Though neither of her competitors offered a selection of food like hers, they did have their own draw. Gimmie’s was the nicer of the two, in her opinion, with decent flat screens and far more room for dancing and more pool tables than she carried. Her space was taken up with more tables.
“I think the glass is clean,” Amanda said dryly.
“What? Oh, huh.” Jo turned the water off and set the glass in the side rack to dry. “Any reason why they’re closing down?”
Amanda pursed her lips. “Now would this be more of that industry news, or gossip?”
Jo swatted her with the bar towel.
She laughed and danced out of the way. “All right, all right! Don’t bruise me. I’ve got another date with my cowboy!” She held up her hands in surrender. “From what I hear, Meldon—that’s the owner—is getting too old to handle the place, and he doesn’t have any kids to pass the business on to. He’s willing to sell, but I guess he’s been looking for a buyer for a few months now on the DL, and no nibbles. So he’s packing up shop and heading to a retirement villa in Arizona. His brother’s there.”
“That’s specific, all right.” Jo mulled it over. One less bit of competition. One more step up in being recognized by this town as a staple. An institution. An insider. “Maybe I should send him a fruit basket or something. I’m sorry to see him go.”
“Sure you are.” Amanda’s smug smile said it all.
“Hey, a little competition never hurt anyone. And besides, it’s hard to close up a business you put your soul into, I’m sure.”
Her friend watched her for a moment, and Jo realized she’d gotten too emotional. Time to get back to work. “Okay then. Thanks for the heads up.” She shot Amanda a serious look. “But no more gossip.”
“Industry news,” Amanda sang as she headed back to bus her remaining tables.
“Industry news,” Jo muttered again, but smiled. One more step. One more very important step.
Trace saddled one of the brood mares currently not pregnant and led her toward the main house. After loosely looping the reins around a column, he headed in the front door. “Emma?”
She poked her head out from the kitchen, with Seth in the Bjorn in front of her. “Your boots off?”
He took one giant step back onto the entry mat. “Just wanted to take Seth out for a bit.” But he couldn’t help smiling at the picture of the housekeeper and toddler. Two peas in a pod, that duo. Seth adored his Emma. “If you can spare him, that is.”
Emma rubbed a hand over Seth’s head and the boy giggled. “He’s quite the help. He spent the morning tearing through a laundry basket of folded clothes.”
Trace winced. “Sorry about that.”