He looked down the street at the grocer's. A huge tree had smashed in their roof, and once the roof had collapsed, the store had been flooded. The building was in horrible shape, and they'd lost a lot of their inventory when the grocery shelves were flooded, ruining most of the food.
Rick nodded. “I'll see what I can do.”
“Thank you.”
He smiled at me, and for a moment, I thought there was something in that smile. I caught his eye roaming when he thought I wasn't looking. I was a big girl, but I still had curves in all the right places, and I saw him eyeing my curves with an appreciative gleam in his eyes. My face started to grow warm and I hid my blush behind my coffee cup.
He finished his coffee and walked over to the wastebasket on the corner to toss it in. “Thanks for the coffee,” he said. “We should do this again sometime.”
“Cleaning up after a storm?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Coffee. If you're free, that is.”
I eyed him appraisingly. “I'm sure I could squeeze in some time,” I said. “As long as you're buying.”
He smirked and nodded. “Of course.”
“Stop by the bar sometime,” I said.
“Actually,” he said, “I was hoping for something a bit more...private.”
I arched an eyebrow, studying the look on his face. I couldn't tell if he was serious or not, but everything about him so far had seemed sincere. “All right. Give me a call sometime.”
I gave him my phone number and he programmed it into his phone, promising to call. Then he headed back to his men, who started hooting at him and teasing him for being a flirt.
I walked away, ignoring the burning in my cheeks. I resisted the urge to glance over my shoulder to see if he was still looking at me. But there was an itch between my shoulder blades that told me his eyes were still on me the entire time.
* * *
CHAPTER 5:
Rick called me the very next day, while I was going over insurance forms for the damage to the bar. I set aside the paperwork and answered the call, trying not to let the butterflies take over my stomach. “Hey,” I said.
“Hello, Chantelle. I hope I didn't catch you at a bad time.”
I looked over the messy pile of forms spread out all across my desk. “No, not a bad time at all. How's things?”
“Doing quite well,” he said. “I was hoping you might be free this afternoon, perhaps? I took quite a liking to the coffee from that shop on your street.”
“That sounds great,” I said. “And they offer a discount to the other shops on the street.”
He laughed, and I realized how foolish I sounded. This man was rich enough that saving 10% on a cup of coffee really didn't matter to him.
We picked a time to meet at the coffee shop. I hung up the phone and stared at my insurance forms, unable to focus on them.
I had a date. A date with a rich navy SEAL. I couldn't quite get that thought straight in my head.
I set aside the paperwork and grabbed my keys. I had to head home and change into something more presentable. I usually came to work in jeans and a t-shirt, since tending bar didn't exactly require me to look fancy. But for a date, even if it was just a coffee date, I needed to make myself look a bit nicer.
An hour later, I walked into the coffee shop wearing black slacks and a deep violet blouse. Rick was already there waiting for me. We ordered our drinks, then sat down at a private table in the corner. We chatted for a little bit about the storm and how things were going with the recovery efforts. I carefully avoided bringing up my insurance situation, since I didn't want to feel like I was trying to get something out of Rick.
Eventually, the conversation moved on to more personal topics.
“So, tell me,” Rick asked, “what's it like running a bar? Is it all drunken buffoons and people starting bar fights?”
I laughed and shook my head. “No, trouble like that tends to be few and far between. Most people keep to themselves, or come in in small groups, just there to have a good time. Sometimes I get guys who are a little too aggressive trying to pick up some of the single women at the bar, and I have to toss them out. But usually, it's quiet.”
“What made you get into the business?” he asked. He watched me as he sipped his coffee, and I felt my cheeks warming up at the look in his eyes.
“Originally, I got a job there when I was in school,” I said. “It seemed like a good way to pay my tuition. But I found I had a knack for it. I switched majors to business in my junior year so I could learn how to run a place of my own. Then, a few years ago, the owner decided to retire. I took out a loan so I could make him an offer, and now the place is mine.”
“That's great,” he said. “It takes a lot of gusto to run your own business. Especially one like that.”