“This is amazing,” I say, meaning every word. The floor has been refinished and polished to a honey blond, gleaming where sunlight streams through. New tables and chairs are sprinkled around the room, and new stools sit in front of the bar, which has also been polished.
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Adam replies with a smile. “Wait until I show you the roof.”
“The roof?” I grin and set my guitar on the stage, then turn and almost swallow my tongue as Callie herself comes down the new staircase on the far side of the room. She’s in her signature killer heels, pink today. Her arms and cleavage are showcased in a simple black tank top and those mile-long legs are mostly bare, thanks to a ripped pair of cut-off denim shorts.
All I have to do is take one look at Callie and know that there’s a God.
And I hope to make her call out his name in thanks in the very near future.
“Declan,” she says.
“Callie,” I reply and feel my lips twitch into a smile as she crosses to the bar and sets a clipboard down. “Nice place you have here.”
Her blue eyes flare in happiness. “Thank you.”
“I was just telling Declan that I’ll take him up and show him the roof,” Adam says just as his phone rings. “Crap. I have to take this. Cal, will you show him?”
“She’ll show me,” I reply, still smiling.
Callie simply shrugs. “As you can see, we have new tables and chairs. I also replaced the stage area. It was so old, I’m surprised you never fell through it before.”
“It held up,” I say and follow her as she leads me toward the stairs. I’m eye-level with her ass, and I’m fucking salivating. “I didn’t know there was anything up here. I figured it was storage or something.”
“It was my dad’s apartment,” she says simply. “I tore it out, made most of it open so it’s now outside seating, and kept some of it covered for the bar."
We walk out to the best rooftop bar I’ve ever seen, and I’m no stranger to bars. She found an antique bar to match the one downstairs, and it’s indeed covered, with maybe half a dozen tables and chairs nearby. But the outdoor space is just plain kick ass.
“Wow,” I breathe and stop, hands on hips, glancing around. Couches are grouped together around gas fireplaces and covered with red, blue and yellow umbrellas to block the hot sun. But my eyes are drawn back to the woman responsible for all of it. I’d thought it was all in my head, that she couldn’t possibly be as beautiful as I thought she was.
But nope. She’s hot.
“This is the best part,” Callie says with a smile that I’ve rarely seen and leads me to the railing to look out over the Quarter. We can see right into Jackson Square. People are bustling about, munching on beignets, wandering through shops. Music from street performers drift up, tickling my ears.
The saxophonist near Café du Monde is damn good.
We lean here, side by side, and take in the Quarter.
“This is the part I missed.” Callie’s voice is soft, softer than I’ve ever heard it.
“What’s that, sugar?” I ask, not looking over at her, but she’s stiffened up, as if she didn’t mean to say that out loud.
“The Quarter,” she replies and takes a deep breath. “All of the people.”
“There are a lot of them,” I agree. “This is beautiful, Callie. You’re going to pack people in here.”
“I hope so,” she says with a laugh. “This sucked up most of my savings.”
“It’ll pay off.”
“You’ll help,” she replies and turns to walk away, but I catch her elbow and turn her back to me.
“Wait. Are you being nice to me?”
“I’ve never been mean to you,” she says, her voice cool and eyes even colder, making them so fucking blue I’d swear they came from the ocean. Her skin is soft in my hand, making me think of long, sweaty nights.
“Let’s be honest. I don’t think you like me much, and I’d love to know why. I’m a likeable guy.”
“I don’t dislike you,” she insists and pulls her arm out of my touch, making me want to just touch her somewhere else. “I’m just not typically drawn to men who drink whiskey. Daddy liked it too much. I don’t like it at all.”
I knew when I ordered the whiskey, the last time I saw her more than three months ago, that it struck a nerve.
“I don’t always drink whiskey. Frankly, I’m happy with tap water.”
She cocks a brow and then chuckles. “You’ll be good for business, Declan. And I’m thankful for it.”