Page 41 of Brewbies
It was the most animated she’d seen him since…since it was definitely better not to think about.
“Tell you what.” The palm of Roy’s hand rasped as he ran it over a stubble-flecked chin. “You convince Caryn Townsend to meet with me, and I’ll give you a piece of information juicy enough that the city council will not only reverse their decision about the petition, they’ll beg your apologiesin printin theTownsend Leader.”
“You could do that?”
A sly smile lifted the corners of Roy’s lips below the walrus-y moustache. “That,” he promised, “and a hell of a lot more.”
“How do I know you’ve really got something good?” Darby leaned forward on her box, putting her face between Roy and the object of his fascination. “You could just be putting me on.”
Roy rose and disappeared into the back of his shop. When he returned, it was with the sleek mauve felt cloche from the display case in his hands. “How’s this for collateral?”
Darby reverently took it, gently placing it atop her head. Glancing at herself in the age-crazed mirror behind the register, she almost hoped Roy would fail to come through.
She looked fuckingfabulous.
“You’ve got a deal,” she said, holding out her hand. Roy clasped it in a surprisingly warm and gentle handshake. Darby shot the rest of her whisky and stood. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
Get Caryn Townsend to talk to Roy Dobson.
How hard could that be?
* * *
ETHAN
“Roy—Mr. Dobson—and I are not in contact anymore.” A flush rose above her scarf only to disappear beneath her airbrush makeup.
They were probably too ashamed of themselves. Or, at least, Ethan’s mom was ashamed that she, the wealthy woman who bore the town’s name, had teamed up with Roy Dobson, theDuck Dynastyreject with the scruples of a coyote.
“I wonder, though,” Caryn said, peeking around Ethan’s shoulder, “what kind of business the new coffee shop owner and Mr. Dobson have with each other.”
Curiosity was too kind a word for what radiated from both mother and son, though he couldn’t bring himself to admit it was what drew him over here in the first place. He looked at the door through which Darby had disappeared, and then glanced down at his watch.
She’d been in there a long time. Alone.
“She’s one of those nomadic, free-spirited types who is really into vintage stuff,” he explained, mostly for his own benefit. “She’s probably just shopping for…for…whatever whatnots sexy coffee shop owners like.”
Next time he looked over at his mom, she was studying him with a look he’d never seen before. Something landing in the middle of fondness and concern.
“Sexy coffee shop owner?” she echoed quietly.
“Owner of a sexy—er—sex-themed coffee shop,” he corrected himself, hoping she couldn’t see the heat rising to his cheeks.
“Ah,” was all she said before she joined him in a much-too-long examination of the opaque glass down the way, behind which just about anything could be discussed by two unlikely allies.
As if summoned by intense Townsend regard to the second power, the hydraulic arm squeaked as Roy held the door open for Darby to step through before following her out into the intermittent sun.
Everything about her gleamed, from the healthy sheen of her pink victory rolls, to the polka-dot sundress, to the genuine affection in the smile she gifted Roy.
Bastard didn’t deserve that smile.
That wasEthan’ssmile. She smiled athimlike that.
Or she did, before he tried to run her out of town.
What a fucking mess.
“Thanks for everything, Roy. I’ll see you in the morning.” Darby lifted up on her tiptoes to plant an airy kiss on Roy’s silver-stubbled cheek before she gathered her things and damn near skipped off in the other direction.
