I stare at her, confused. “You said the budget was fine, that it would be paid for by spring, and that it would practically pay for itself because it would increase business.”
She nods, troubled. “I know that’s what I said. And that’s what I thought. But I didn’t anticipate that business would drop so much this Fall. I don’t see it picking up again through the winter, because it never does. It will be tourist season before we see enough business to really bring in enough revenue to start paying on that loan.”
And now I’m startled. “What does this mean? Is The Hill in trouble?”
That thought sends me into a panic. Our parents started their little Italian restaurant when they got married and it has become a staple of Angel Bay. Situated directly on the beach, it is a popular place for tourists and locals alike in the summer.
After our parents died, my sister came back home to run it. Since she had just earned a business degree, it seemed logical. This arrangement allows me to run my little art shop, where I sell art supplies and my own paintings and prints. It’s a win-win situation. As part-owner of The Hill, I get a share of the profits every month, while still getting to do my own thing.
But apparently, things aren’t looking so good.
“Don’t freak out,” Madison instructs me calmly. “It’s not doomsday or anything. We’re just going to have to tighten our belts around the restaurant this winter. If you can pull a few shifts, that would really help. That way, we can cut wait-staff until summer.”
I nod.
“Of course. Whatever I can do to help.” Madison and I had both waited tables for our parents in high school and when we came home for summers in college. It wasn’t a big deal. I could do it with my eyes closed.
“We might also have to decrease our own pay for a while,” Madison adds slowly, her face serious as she watches for my reaction. I don’t hesitate, I just nod again.
“That’s fine,” I tell her. “I can survive on what I make here.”
I glance around at my shop, at the paintings exhibited on the walls under the spotlights and the prints hanging by thin steel cables from the ceiling. There are chic sitting areas and modern lighting, there are easels and shelves of art supplies, all perfectly arranged. It’s a trendy little shop, exactly what I had wanted, and it does alright in the winter. It does exceedingly well in the summer when tourists are here. I nod again.
“I’ll be fine,” I confirm. “Will you?”
She nods. “Yep, I’ll be fine. Since I live rent-free, I’ll be okay.”
When she had agreed to run our parents’ business, I had told her that she could live in their house. I have an apartment above my shop anyway, so it seemed like the right thing to do. Although, in the first months after mom and dad died, I spent a lot of time with her at their house anyway. It made it seem less real, like they might come walking in the door at any time.
Surprise! We were just away for a while. But we’re back now.
Of course that never happened and eventually, I went back to my little apartment. I love my sister, but we don’t live very well together. I’m a clean freak and she’s a tornado waiting to happen.
“Thank you for being so calm about this,” Maddy tells me, her mouth widening in an appreciative smile. “Like I said, it’s not the end of the world. The Hill will be just fine and by summer, we’ll see the return on our investment. But until then, consider your belt cinched.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t wear belts. But okay. It’s cinched up tight. No shopping sprees for me.”
Madison nods, satisfied, and picks up my portfolio again.
“I like this one,” she tells me. “I want to buy it.”
I lean over her shoulder, staring at the gray cloudy sky and full moon. I can perfectly see the rippling sheen of the dark water shining in the black and white contrast. It’s perfect. I smile.
“This one is gorgeous. And it’s from the other night. I’ll frame it up for you and you can pick it up next time you’re here.”
She grins at me. “Or you can drop it off during your shift tomorrow night at The Hill.”
I stare at her. “What?”
“You said you wouldn’t mind pitching in. You can do a shift tomorrow. That would help out a bunch. Then maybe we can go out and get a drink afterward. It’s been far too long since we’ve blown the cobwebs off. We need to de-stress.”
I don’t have time to argue about the short notice or to remind my sister that I seldom drink, because the little bell above my door jingles, signaling a customer. I glare at Maddy quickly before pasting a smile on my face and turning around.
And then I freeze.
Pax Tate is strolling through my door in jeans that look like they were tailored just for him and with a shopping bag in his hand. His eyes glimmer mischievously as he smiles in greeting, a slow grin that curves his lips and crinkles the corners of his eyes. In the course of one day, I had forgotten exactly how devastatingly sexy he truly is.