It Started with a Dog, page 29
Jonah was proud of what they’d done, how they’d all worked together to make this happy hour happen. Even though his dad looked grayer every time he saw him, and tired quickly, he’d hung in there as best he could. But it was the gray of his father’s face that had convinced Jonah—he couldn’t leave the Star. Not now. He needed to be around to help his parents in spite of their very clear wishes that he not be around.
It wasn’t just a feeling—his mother said it very directly to him early Saturday. They were in the kitchen working alongside Burt, who had embraced the grass-fed beef idea and was making sliders. His mother’s exact words were: “Jonah, I don’t want you at the Star anymore.”
Jonah just happened to be looking at Burt when she said it and watched one of his thick brows rise up to the bandanna tied around his head before he silently turned around and walked into the cold storage locker.
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t want you at the Star. We didn’t raise you to run a coffee shop, we raised you to be someone important.”
“No, you didn’t, Mom—you once told me I could be a gravedigger as long as I was happy with my career choices.”
“I say a lot of things I don’t mean. We did not send you to school to be a gravedigger or to run the Lucky Star. We sent you to school to pursue your dreams. And now we don’t need you here, and you’re not happy with this choice.”
“That’s not true. I love the Star.”
“You are not staying here!” she said loudly.
“Mom? Now is not a good time for this discussion,” Jonah said, and gestured to the work they had ahead of them.
“I’m just saying. It’s been on your father’s and my mind a lot lately.”
It had been on his mind, too. “Let’s get through tonight, okay?”
“Get through whatever you want. I’ve said my piece.” She turned away from him and stalked out of the kitchen. Burt walked out of the locker. Jonah wondered if he, too, wanted to say his piece.
“Don’t look at me, man. I’ve got enough on my hands with this grass-fed business.”
Jonah didn’t have time to think about this right now, and honestly, he didn’t need to think about it. He’d made up his mind.
An hour before doors opened, he did one final check of preparations. People were already lined up down the street. Four of the book club ladies had come in, volunteering to help hand out samples to the crowd. Amy had dressed up for the evening—she was wearing a sequined tank top under lime green overalls and black Clark Kent glasses. The only real staff expense for the event was the bartenders, which Carly had arranged through her seemingly bottomless list of contacts who were willing to give her cut rates.
It was time. Jonah went into the office and shrugged into the sport coat he’d brought to wear over his collared shirt. He washed his face, combed his hair, and sat down and texted Harper.
Crazy line outside. Not sure LS is ready for this.
She instantly texted back. You’re nuts. The LS can handle anything. Guess who’s coming?
Jonah groaned. They were already looking at being over capacity. Who?
Soren. He loves Suzanna. Also, I think something must have happened between him and Kendal, because he has been clinging to me the last few days, calling and texting ideas and questions.
So Soren is into you now?
Harper responded with laughing emojis. Then: I think Soren’s idea of being into someone is finding the person who will actually listen to him relate the theory of relativity in a relative way.
Jonah laughed. He couldn’t wait to see Harper. And then he couldn’t wait for the night to be over. Hosting big events like this was definitely not his thing, and while it was a boon for the Lucky Star, he found it exhausting in a way nothing else could exhaust him. He was not an extrovert. What he wanted after this was a quiet weekend with Harper, with no thoughts about Madrid, or his dad’s health, or any other major life decisions.
His gaze happened to land on a picture of him and Allen and Andy when they were boys. Allen had a skateboard. Andy was looking at someone or something to the side, and Jonah was seated on top of a table, laughing. He loved those two like brothers, but sometimes he wished he had a sibling, someone who could help him with the Lucky Star now. He wondered what Jolie would have thought about the Star.
He wondered what this job would be like after Harper was gone, too. She’d made this part of his life bearable—how motivated would he be when she was gone?
How sad would he be when she was gone?
But she would be gone, he was certain of it. He might not know the business quite like Soren, but he knew Harper, and he knew that Soren would be a fool to pass her over. He figured Soren knew this. She would be in Rochester, and he would be here, hosting happy hours.
Well. He couldn’t think of any of that right now. But he could acknowledge that the idea of her leaving Deja Brew, and him, and Truck and Lulu for that matter, stung. It stung even though he’d planned to leave her. He was selfish to the core—he wanted the deep space project and Harper by his side.
But it never seemed to come down to what he wanted.
* * *
Olivia took forever to get ready for the Lucky Star happy hour. Harper and Bob sat on the floor, watching her. Well, Harper watched her, but Bob faced away, having lost interest in the many outfit changes Olivia had made, all in and out of Harper’s clothes. “How many hours of my life have I watched you try on clothes?” Harper asked idly. “Can’t you wear what you have on? It’s just a happy hour.”
“Just a happy hour is an opportunity to meet the man of my dreams, hello.” Olivia turned one way, and then the other.
Harper thought about everyone she’d ever seen frequent the Lucky Star. “I don’t think it’s that kind of happy hour.”
“You never know. You have to be open to kismet.” Olivia turned back to the mirror to check herself out once more. She was wearing Harper’s slim black pants, a gold shimmering blouse Harper had bought at the Houston Galleria last summer, and her own high heels. With her long dark hair, Olivia looked gorgeous, as always. Harper felt a surge of . . . interesting, she felt a surge of something new. Usually it was envy, but for the first time in their very long friendship, she had the guy and Olivia didn’t. It was a rip in the universe they’d never experienced. She felt sorry for Olivia.
Wow. Her life had definitely changed.
Harper stood up and checked herself in the mirror. She was wearing a black dress with a white Peter Pan collar and cuffs. It fit her perfectly through the bodice and waist, and flared at the knees. Olivia said it was gorgeous. She’d put Harper’s hair in a chic up-do that Harper could never re-create on her own.
“You look like Audrey Hepburn,” Olivia said.
Harper snorted. “Except that I’m probably forty pounds heavier.”
“Still, you look like her. You’re gorgeous in that dress, Harper. Okay, let’s do this.”
“I hope you’re not disappointed.” Harper picked up her evening bag and checked the contents. “This could be a huge bust. You can’t blame me if it is—it’s not my event.”
“Why are you being so pessimistic?”
“I’m being practical.”
“There is a time for practical, and there is a time for optimistic. I would like to suggest that this is a time for optimism.”
Harper laughed. “Whatever. Let’s go.”
They said good night to Bob, who, honestly, looked like he wanted some time alone with his bone anyway. They parked in Harper’s spot at Deja Brew. But when they stepped onto the sidewalk, Harper stopped dead in her tracks and put her hand on Olivia’s arm.
“What?”
“It’s packed,” Harper said.
“Great!” Olivia grabbed Harper’s hand and pulled her across the street and into the throng of people trying to squeeze into the Lucky Star.
It was a truly amazing transformation from the Lucky Star she’d dismissed so quickly a few weeks ago. Carly was brilliant, but all the work Jonah and his family had put into the Lucky Star had clearly paid off. The diner had been transformed. Harper looked at the star-shaped lights hanging from the ceiling, interspersed between little potted cactus plants, also suspended, and those scattered around on tables and windowsills. There was a new stage at one end of the room. Some of the women from the book club, all of them wearing matching aprons emblazoned with a picture of a woman dressed in fifties clothing and holding up a pie, moved through the crowd carrying trays of pie samples and burger sliders. Two more book clubbers moved through with drinks.
One of them stopped in front of Harper and Olivia. Harper recognized her as the one they had called Karen. “Oh, hey! It’s great to see you!” Karen said. “Care for a cactus martini? The little ones are on the house. If you want a bigger one—” She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “and who doesn’t?” She leaned back. “You’ll have to buy it at the bar.”
“The bar?” Harper asked.
Karen indicated with her chin a portable bar in the corner opposite the stage.
“Wow,” Harper murmured.
“Thank you, we’ll have one,” Olivia said, taking two of the plastic cups and handing one to Harper. “Cactus!” she said excitedly. She sampled the drink as Karen moved on. “It’s delicious.”
Harper looked at hers. “What is a cactus martini?” She craned her neck to see the bar. She could see a sign draped across its front and recognized the name of a new bar two blocks down. “Clever,” she said. Carly had apparently taken the idea of partnering and brought in the new guys down the street.
Speaking of Carly, Harper caught sight of her in a sparkly gold dress in the company of a very handsome man wearing glasses. She left Olivia chatting up some random man and made her way over to say hello.
“Harper!” Carly said as Harper neared her. “I’m so glad you’re here. This is Max, my fiancé.” She beamed up at him. “This is Harper from Deja Brew.”
“You’re the one with Bob the Bulldog.” Max smiled charmingly. “Love that guy. We have a couple of bassets. Did Carly tell you?”
“She did!”
Max pulled his phone from his pocket. “Let me show you—”
“Max!” Carly caught his hand. “She doesn’t want to see pictures of our dogs.” She grinned at Harper. “Don’t mind him. He’s kind of a nerd.”
“Not kind of,” Max protested. “Fully realized.” He slid the phone into his pocket. “Very nice to meet you, Harper. And may the best dog win. My vote is on Bob.”
“Really? Thank you! But have you met Lulu, the three-legged dachshund yet? You might change your mind.”
“Actually, I heard the Starbucks dog is pretty darn cute.”
“Max, you’re not supposed to say that,” Carly said, laughing.
“I am not offended,” said Harper. “It was totally unfair of Starbucks to bring in a giant furball to the competition. And speaking of Lulu, the tripod dachshund . . .” Harper shifted her gaze to Carly. “Have you seen Jonah?”
“Last I saw him, he was behind the counter, loading pie samples onto trays. Great turnout, isn’t it? I’m so proud of us.”
“I am so proud of the Lucky Star. They really are an Austin institution. Nice to meet you, Max. I’m going to say hi to Jonah.”
She heard Olivia call her name and turned around to see her friend trying to make her way through the crowd. Behind Olivia, she saw Soren and Kendal enter. “Wow,” Harper said as Olivia reached her. “He dressed up.”
“Who dressed up?” Olivia turned to see.
Harper nodded in Soren’s direction. “The man in the strangely shiny blue suit is none other than Soren Wilder in the flesh.” The suit was so shiny, in fact, it was almost reflective. But it was tailored, outlining a masculine figure that Harper was not accustomed to seeing. He’d also combed his hair and tied it at his nape. And it looked as if he’d found some turquoise suede shoes to complete the outfit.
“Wait . . . who is that with him?”
“Kendal.”
Olivia’s eyes bugged out of her head. She looked at Harper, then at Kendal.
He’d dressed simply—a white shirt, a black wool zip-up vest, and jeans that fit him like a glove. Harper was so used to seeing him in a suit and tie, she had never noticed how fit he was.
“Why did you never tell me Kendal was so hot?” Olivia asked accusingly as Kendal and Soren made their way to them. “He’s gorgeous.”
“Gross,” Harper said. “He’s like my cousin. Hi, Soren!” she said in the next breath. “You look great!”
“I look as I feel,” he said, and bowed his head, she supposed, to accept her compliment.
“This is my best friend, Olivia. She came in from Houston.”
Soren turned his gaze to Olivia, and it swept all the way down Olivia and back up. “It is with happy satisfaction that I make your acquaintance. Namaste.”
Olivia blinked. She looked at Kendal.
“I’m Kendal,” he said, reaching around Soren to offer his hand. “Very nice to meet you. I didn’t know Harper had any friends.”
“Funny,” Harper said.
“Very good to meet you,” Olivia said, and shifted her weight onto one hip, which put her minutely closer to Kendal.
Harper knew that look in her eye. After all the stories she’d told Olivia about Kendal, Olivia said she despised him. She didn’t despise him now—she was practically batting her lashes at him.
“So hey! I thought you were out of town for the weekend,” Harper said to Kendal.
“He has just arrived from Rochester,” Soren said.
Rochester! Harper glanced at Kendal. He looked abashed. “I didn’t know I was going until last minute.”
“Was it important that Harper know?” Soren asked with feigned innocence.
How many ways could Soren annoy her? “Well, I think it was,” she said. “I’m in the running for that job, too.”
Soren laughed. “You see with your eyes but not your heart, Harper. To see fully, you must see with both eyes and heart.”
“That’s what I always say,” Olivia said.
Harper shot her a look, but Olivia didn’t see it because she was smiling at Kendal. Harper couldn’t bear to watch whatever was about to unfold here between them. She said to Soren, “Would you care for a cactus martini? Because I can hook you up.”
“Absolutely.”
“I’ll get them.” She walked away from Soren and Kendal and Olivia, pushing through the crowd until she collided with a big man in a Hawaiian shirt, holding a tray of burger sliders. It was Burt. He held up the tray. “Grass-fed,” he said crossly, as if he was annoyed about that.
“Thank you!” She took a slider and pushed on to the bar. She spotted Jonah at the counter, dressed in jeans and a navy sport coat, a crisp white shirt underneath. He was standing with his father, who looked a little like he’d eaten something bad. His mother was there, too, wearing a flowy caftan dress. She was entirely animated, carrying on about some tale to a couple who listened with rapt attention.
Harper lifted a hand and caught Jonah’s eye. He smiled. Harper did, too, but then someone walked between them.
She took her phone from her bag and texted him. The place looks great. You really knocked it out of the park.
It took him a minute, but he responded. Does it? Thought it looked a little like Roy came to life one day and decorated the dining room in the style of his barn. And what is with the hanging cactus?
It will be all the rage now. Want to get away for a little bit? She glanced up. So did Jonah. He met her gaze, and a smile curved his lips. He dropped his gaze to his phone again. Harper Atticus Thompson. What are you suggesting? And getting away for a “little bit” means the janitorial closet.
Harper looked at him across the room and made a theatrical gagging motion. I was thinking across the street. At least we know no one is there.
Oh, I’m sorry, is the Lucky Star burying Deja Brew in the dust?
She smiled. He smiled. She texted, No one is there because it is closed, Mr. Smartypants. She watched Jonah glance at his dad, at the people crowded into the dining room and gathered around as Suzanna took the stage. He glanced down.
Fifteen minutes.
Harper looked for Olivia. But she needn’t have bothered—Olivia was practically hanging off Kendal, who looked like he wanted to be hanging off her. “Oh my God, not today, Satan,” Harper muttered, and started for the bar to get the cactus martinis for them.
Thirty
Blissful quiet at Deja Brew was the first thing Jonah noticed when he stepped inside the darkened interior. He’d come with martinis in to-go cups, thanks to his quick thinking. Burt was the only person to see him go. “I’ll be back in half an hour,” Jonah had said.
“I ain’t your mother.” Burt had turned back to his grass-fed sliders. They were a huge hit.
Harper was standing in the middle of Deja Brew waiting for him, her legs about fifteen miles long in that dress. Did she really get better looking every time he saw her? Was he really that smitten?
Yes, he was really that smitten.
