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“Look at this place,” Charlee said, waving her arm around to the bar. “It’s packed.”
“Probably despite the trivia topic and not because of it.”
“Sure, sure.” Charlee gave him a conspiratorial wink. “Whatever you say.”
“No boys tonight? Or your third musketeer?”
“Natalie is with her boyfriend,” Charlee said, “and our boys are home.”
“Gotcha. So hey, Zoe, the last time your boyfriend was in, he mentioned having experience in the restaurant business but didn’t get a chance to elaborate.”
“He used to work for his uncle,” I said, ignoring the pang in my chest at the mention of my boyfriend. “Was going to take over his restaurant in his hometown, but that fell through.”
“I see. He mentioned a bartending gig or two as well. Know much about that?”
The hairs on my arms immediately rose. “Not much. Why?”
“Did you ladies hear Lusanne and I are expecting our first baby?”
“No,” I said.
“Are you serious?” Charlee’s eyes widened. “Get out. We need all the details.”
“Congratulations,” I added.
Owen laughed. “Not surprised the guys didn’t mention it.”
“Lucas knows?” Charlee’s nose scrunched together in annoyance.
“He does.”
“Typical man,” she muttered.
“Anyway.” He gave his attention to me. “The reason I’m asking is that I’m thinking to take a step back here. With all of the other businesses, and this one having so many late nights. . .”
“A step back?” Charlee asked.
I wondered the same thing. What did that mean exactly? Between Owen and his father, they owned half of Kitchi Falls, but Owen was the most active with KC’s and the general store down the block.
“I don’t know exactly. But between here and the store. . . just mention it to him. No idea if he’s interested in managing a place like this or something like that.”
Managing a bar. Was that something Nate would want to do?
“I will for sure.”
Owen chatted with Charlee a bit more, and I debated on texting him now or waiting until the morning. Normally, I wouldn’t hesitate and would have already sent the text.
Ahh, screw it.
I took out my phone.
Something really interesting to tell you about KC’s tonight. . .
And waited.
Usually when I started that way, or made Nate guess what I was going to say or where I was, he would text back something like, “Send it.”
But I waited some more. It was still fairly early. Surely he wasn’t in bed already. I thought “off to bed” was metaphorical.
