Нора Робертс - The Last Boyfriend

“We all agree about that,” Avery continued, “but the point is, we could use another restaurant in town, one a few clicks up from family Italian and pizza.”

Nerves tickled along her skin. She hated being nervous, focused on keeping her voice brisk. “And people often come into my place, ask where they could get a glass of wine. Sure I serve it, but it’s not the kind of place you go for a quiet drink or a romantic meal.”

“We want to get the bakery project going first,” Owen told her. “We’re going to look for another tenant for the restaurant. We’re just going to have to be more careful in the selection process this time around, find somebody with a sensible business plan, and an understanding of the location.”

“I agree.” Avery cleared her throat. “You bought the connecting building.” To keep her hands busy, she toyed with her eggs. “I know you’ve considered going retail there, but it used to be one building, and if you opened it back up, there could be a lounge on one side, a restaurant on the other—connected. People could go have a drink, or come in for dinner. Or both. And there’s room in the second part for a little stage. Live music’s a draw. There’s nothing like that in town. A good restaurant with an attached lounge or pub. Good food, nice wine and beer and cocktails, some music.”

“It’s a good idea,” Justine began.

“Don’t get her started,” Ryder warned.

“It would add to the inn,” Avery went on. “Guests would have more choices, and could walk right across St. Paul, have a bottle of wine, and not worry about driving. You could arrange for room service from there, just like we’re going to do for you from Vesta. Don’t want to go out? Have some pizza in The Lounge, or a nice, quiet dinner in The Dining Room. And you’re doing packages. Adding a package with a dinner for two at a nice restaurant, right next door—or again, brought to them here—would be a draw.”

“No question.” Beckett nodded at her. “And we’ve tossed it around, some. The sticking point is finding someone who not only wants to run a place like that but can do it, and do it right.”

“I want to.” She said it fast, her hands clasped in her lap under the table. “I can do it right.”

“You’ve got a restaurant. You’ve got Vesta.” Ryder narrowed his eyes at her. “And Little Red, if you tell me you’re thinking of packing it in over there, I’m going to be pissed off. I need my Warrior’s pizza fix.”

“She’s not thinking of that.” Concerned, Owen nudged his plate aside. “Two places, Avery? Don’t you have enough to do already?”

“I’d give Franny more responsibility, use Dave in both sites on a rolling schedule. I’d need a good manager for the new place, and I’ve already got someone in mind. Justine, it didn’t work before because it wasn’t the right fit. I know exactly what to do there to make it work, to make it pop.”

“I’m listening.”

“Oh brother.” Ryder lowered his head and focused on waffles.

“You want warm, contemporary without being showy. Maybe a couple of love seats as well as low and high tops in the pub area. One big-ass bar, and you get bartenders who know what they’re doing. Relaxed, but just a touch of edge. Good wine, good drafts—maybe a mix of local stuff. Classy.”

Because nobody stopped her, Avery took a breath, and plowed through.

“For lunch, you offer a wide variety of salads, sandwiches, soups, and you’re open for lunch, every day—which was a problem before. You keep the prices reasonable, the service friendly and welcoming.”

“Which was also a problem before,” Beckett commented.

“Yeah, it was.” She gave him a nod, plowed on. “For dinner, you add entrees. A good steak, fish, chicken, some interesting appetizers. As much as you can, you stay local for the produce, for the meat. You make it fun, and you don’t forget you’re on The Square in Boonsboro. I know the town, I know what people want.”

“I bet you do,” Justine murmured.

“I’ve written up a business plan. I’ve drafted out a menu, price points. I know it involves some work for you, reconnecting the two spaces, fixing up the pub area, but it’d be worth it.” She took a breath. “I’d make it worth it.”

“How long have you been thinking about this?” Owen asked her.

“About two years—when I could see the other place just wasn’t going to work, and why. It’s not impulse,” she insisted, knowing that look. “I know I can be impulsive, but not when it’s business. You trusted me when I came to you about opening Vesta in your building.”

“We were right to.” Beckett considered her. “I want to take another look at the space before we make any decisions—one way or the other.”

“Sure. I’ll send you the business plan, the sample menu, and so on.”

“Good.” Justine nodded. “I want to see what you’ve laid out. Still, we’re going to need to talk this over, Avery, my boys and I.”

“I know that. And if it’s no, well . . . I’ll try to convince you to change your mind. So. I’d better get going.” She rose, automatically bussed her dishes. “Thanks again for letting me test the room. It was a night to remember.”

“We’ll talk soon,” Justine promised her, then considered the coffee she’d let go cold as Avery went out. “Thoughts?”

“Running a restaurant is a lot of work,” Owen began. “Running two? She’d have to manage two crews, two menus, and add this pub she’s talking about, it’s basically three businesses to manage.”

“She’s the Little Red Machine.” Ryder shrugged as he got up to get more coffee for his mother. “My money’s on her.”

“I need to look at the space, make sure it can be done.”

Justine just smiled at Beckett. “Anything can be done. The first advantage, for us, would be having someone in there we know, can trust, and who has a good, solid, innovative idea. Her concept’s pretty damn perfect.”

“I like the idea.” Still Owen hesitated. “My concern would be having one person, having Avery, trying to do it all.”

“That’s concern for her. You’re worried she’d run herself ragged, take on too much. A friend’s concern,” Justine added. “With some ‘when would we have time together now that we’re thinking about spending time together’ mixed in.”

When Owen shifted his gaze, coolly, toward Ryder, Ryder threw up his hands. “Not a word. Not from me.”

“Please.” Justine let out a snort, flicked a hand in the air. “Do you think I have to be told? Foolish, foolish boy. You still don’t comprehend my powers?” She smiled again, smugly, when Owen only shifted in his chair. “I understand that concern. I have some of my own. But like Ry, I’d put my money on Avery to make this work—to put something on that corner that would be a boost to the town. To the inn,” she added. “And the other businesses.”

She sat another moment, nodded to herself. “Let’s take a look at the space, then you boys can think about how it could be done, if it should be done, and what’s involved. We’ll look over her business plan, see what kind of menus she’d project. After that, we’ll talk to Avery again. Okay?”

“Works for me,” Ryder said and got a nod from Beckett.

“We’ll check it out,” Owen decided. “Go from there.”

Later, Owen hunted up Avery in The Lounge. She sat on the floor, surrounded by DVDs, busily slitting open the packaging with a little tool.

“What’re you doing?”

“Just basking on the beaches of Saint-Tropez.”

“Are you wearing sunscreen?”

“With this skin? I use a force field.”

He sat on the brown leather bench. “Isn’t this your day off?”