“You need some kind of assistant manager. Someone to take the everyday weight off your shoulders. She could work the bar. Create the schedules. Anything you need her to do.”
The elder Dempseys sat silently as if absorbing the suggestion. “Have you talked to Will about this?” Patty asked.
“Yes.”
“Without coming to us first?” Tom nearly leapt from his chair but Patty’s grip held him in place. “You can’t go around offering people jobs whenever you feel like it.”
“I didn’t offer her a job,” Lucas defended, ignoring the knot forming in his gut. He never meant to offend his parents. Especially not the man who’d raised him like his own. “I wanted to make sure she was interested before I came to you. She understands this isn’t a done deal. You have the final say, of course.”
“How gracious of you to let me decide what happens in my own damn restaurant.”
“Tom,” Patty scolded. “He has a point. You can’t go back to working so many hours. His intentions are in the right place and the idea is worth discussing.”
Finally. Someone on his side.
“You’d be doing Will a favor, too. She could stop flitting from business to business, picking up hours wherever she can get them.” Lucas clasped his hands on the Formica tabletop. “No one is suggesting you can’t run the business, but this is an opportunity for you to relax a bit. Let someone else do the heavy lifting for a while.”
“Heavy lifting takes money,” Tom grumbled.
“What does that mean?” Lucas asked, confused where this reaction was coming from.
“Tom,” Patty nearly whispered. “We have to tell him. We should have told the boys long before now.”
“Tell the boys what?” The knot tightened and spread to his chest. “What am I missing here?”
“The restaurant is losing money,” Patty said, when his dad held silent. “It’s been slowing down for several seasons, but this year has been the worst.”
“Are you saying we’re going out of business?”
“Absolutely not.” Tom smacked the table. “We’ll cut back. Wait for things to get better. Hiring an assistant manager just isn’t in the cards right now. Maybe next year.”
Lucas couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Nearly twenty years of his life had been spent in Dempsey’s Bar & Grill. He couldn’t imagine Anchor without it. His family without it.
“Do you need cash?”
“We need customers, but with tourism down, the numbers aren’t there.” Patty rubbed a hand absently across her chest. This must have been hard on them, watching their life’s work fade. Carrying the burden by themselves, pretending everything was fine.
They didn’t need to carry it alone anymore.
“Let me help. I can invest in the business.”
“The business is yours without your money,” Tom said, dismissing the offer. “I’ll mortgage this house before I’ll take your hard-earned money.”
“Don’t be stubborn,” Lucas said. “You need money and I have it.”
“Are you sure about this, Lucas?” Patty asked.
“No.” Tom shoved his chair back and threw his hands wide. “I won’t allow it. I will not take charity from my children.”
“It’s not charity,” Lucas argued, coming to his feet. “Dempsey’s is the family business and I’m part of this family. It’s time I made an official investment in my future, and I’ll expect a return on that investment.”
“Your future? Since when do you plan to run this business in the future?”
Tom had him there. Lucas always knew he and Joe would inherit the place someday, but never intended to come back and run it. Had his feelings changed? He considered what he’d have to leave behind and knew the answer immediately.
“I didn’t say I’d be the one running it, but I will be an owner someday. That can’t happen if there’s nothing left to own.”
Tom ran a hand through his cropped hair. “It’s not right.” The vehemence in his voice had softened. “I don’t like it.”
“Tom.” Patty stood and took her husband’s hands. “Lucas is right. We need a shot of capital and he’s willing to give it. Better from him than someone else. Better than losing it all together.”
“Listen to her,” Lucas said, stepping up behind his mother and resting his hands on her shoulders. “Let me do this. No matter the amount, it won’t come close to paying you back for everything you’ve done for me. You’re always taking care of everyone else. Let someone else do the taking care of for a change.”
Tom’s gaze darted from his wife, to the floor, to the son he’d given his name and his love. “An investment. For a full stake in the company.”
Lucas extended his hand. “Deal.”
By Tuesday, Sid was ready to leap out of her skin. Neither she nor Lucas had talked about how things had changed after Friday night. And things had definitely changed. Any illusion of acting casual went out the window, along with Sid’s final grasp on denial. She was full on in love with Lucas Dempsey and if his actions were any indication, he’d fallen off the casual cliff right along with her.
You’d think they’d talk about it. They both knew Lucas was leaving at the end of the summer. Sid didn’t harbor any great hope he’d change his mind. Lucas didn’t belong on Anchor any more than Sid belonged in a beauty pageant. For all of five minutes she imagined he might ask her to go with him. Then she remembered Curly’s stories about dinner parties, political events, and mindless small talk.
Sid would rather face a squall on open waters than be forced into that world.
No, she couldn’t go with him. And he wouldn’t stay. So they’d both avoided the subject and pretended Labor Day would never come. Or so she thought.
Until her bed partner started acting more and more odd. Happy one minute, staring off into space the next. Always with that disgruntled look as if he were passing a kidney stone while working a word problem in his head. When she’d ask him where he drifted off to during those moments, he’d just flash her a smile and drop a quick kiss on her lips before changing the subject.
They worked seamlessly during the days, then cuddled on her couch at night. The challenge of showing Lucas all there was to do on the island fell away at some point, though she couldn’t remember when or why. They’d taken in another movie. One of the Die Hard flicks, though she wasn’t sure now which installment. They also attended a Merchants Society meeting, during which Sid had whispered stories in Lucas’s ear about nearly everyone in attendance.
How Floyd, who ran the Trade Store, had been courting the day-care owner, Helga, for months and finally got her to have dinner with him. To which he wore his best overalls, of course. How Sam Edwards had nearly caused a society meltdown by advertising his motels as “the finest Anchor has to offer” on his new flyers.
To be fair, Sam did have the best rooms in the village, but he’d broken the unwritten rule by actually pointing the fact out to tourists in such a highfalutin way. If there was one thing Anchor merchants strove to avoid, it was ever sounding highfalutin. Or one-upping each other. At least not on paper.
That sort of thing was reserved for the Hatteras high and mighties who liked to think they were the upper crust of the barrier islands.
By the time the meeting had ended, Lucas was caught up on all the people he once knew as well as she did, and the few newbies who’d moved in during his absence.
Speaking of Lucas being absent, he and Joe had switched shifts today for the first time in more than a week. Working without him left her torn between missing him and believing some time apart might be a good thing. He’d be gone soon and if she couldn’t handle a few hours, life was going to be pretty shitty after a few days.