“We did!” Luke called out. “What’s up with you slowpokes? We figured you’d be on your second round by now.”
Bryce and Giselle both turned. She hoped her brother had a reasonable explanation, because she was drawing a blank.
Bryce, her quick-witted riddle maker, came through. “We had some family business to work through, too, and we decided to settle it before we started drinking.” He put his arm around Giselle’s shoulder and gave her a squeeze. “I gotta say, this is one stubborn female.”
Luke laughed. “Don’t I know it.”
“Stubbornness is in the eye of the beholder,” Giselle said.
Cynthia gave her a thumbs-up. “Way to tell ’em, girlfriend!”
Giselle managed a big smile as she watched Luke and Cynthia approach. Tall, fair, and beautiful, they were so obviously brother and sister. She couldn’t imagine how their mother could bear to live an ocean away from them.
But that was her choice, and it left them more dependent on each other. No one should come between those two, especially not a female werewolf who’d foolishly allowed herself to fall in love with a human.
Chapter 23
If Luke had doubted his decision to sell Howlin’ at the Moon, those doubts evaporated when he stepped inside the door. The place was almost deserted.
Chuck Stevens came forward with a cheerful smile, because that was Chuck’s way, to smile in the face of disappointment. But Chuck had to be wondering whether Luke had a strategy to keep the bar business from going into free fall. “Don’t know what to tell you,” he said. “Business was great yesterday, but today, not so much.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Luke turned to the group he’d brought in, none of whom would be paying customers. “I guess you know everybody except Giselle’s brother. Bryce Landry, meet Chuck Stevens. Chuck’s the CFO for Dalton Industries.”
Bryce reached out and shook Chuck’s hand. “My sister’s the CFO for the Landry operation up in ’Frisco. Did she tell you that?”
“I don’t think she did. She had other things on her mind when we met.”
“Like me,” Cynthia said. “But all’s well that ends well, Chuck. My darling brother’s hired me to dance with the Moonbeams, so you’ll be signing my paycheck soon.”
Luke didn’t care if she boasted about that, or that Chuck’s eyebrows lifted at the news. His CFO quickly recovered and congratulated Cynthia on her new job. Chuck had been with Dalton for seven years, long enough to figure out that complicated maneuvers took place in a family-owned business.
“So I guess you’re all here to celebrate!” Chuck gestured toward the interior of the bar, where only a handful of people occupied a grouping of twenty tables. “Take your pick. I’ll get a server right over.”
“Thanks, Chuck. If you want to head home, I can handle it for the rest of the night.”
“Nah, you have guests. I’m happy to supervise for now. I’m sure business will pick up and we can look into hiring someone.”
Cynthia glanced at Luke. “Aren’t you going to tell him?”
“Uh, sure.” He wasn’t in the habit of blurting out his business decisions in such a casual way, but saying something might relieve Chuck’s concern that the bar would be a financial drain on the company. “I’ve decided to sell the bar back to Benedict Cartwright.” From the corner of his eye, he caught a triumphant look pass between Giselle and Bryce.
What the hell? Why would either of them care what he did with the bar? Sure, Bryce seemed to have influenced Cynthia to plead for returning the bar to the Cartwrights, but the glance between Bryce and Giselle held more significance than it should, given the circumstances.
Chuck appeared stunned by the announcement. “Sell it back to Benedict? I thought the whole idea was to get it away from that family. Wasn’t the poker game a grudge match? Or am I missing something?”
“You’re not missing anything,” Luke said. “The game was a grudge match, and as you and I were taught in our business classes, revenge is a lousy motivation for a corporate decision. Owning this bar makes no sense for Dalton Industries, but since I got it for free, we can’t avoid making a profit when I sell it.”
Chuck grinned. “So revenge is a good motivation?”
“Only if you know when to stop seeking it. Have our lawyers draw up the papers tomorrow, and set up a meeting with Benedict whenever he’s available.”
“I’ll do that and let you know. Now, find yourself a table and enjoy yourselves. There’s no band tonight, but the jukebox works great. And the pool table’s open.”
Cynthia seemed to be in rare form. “I want that middle table next to the dance floor.”
Bryce laughed. “Gonna put on a show for us?”
“I might, but first I challenge you to a game of pool.”
Luke should have known she’d remember and follow through on her plan. He’d always been in awe of his sister’s brainpower, but he’d never thought she’d employ it for his benefit. Maybe she’d find out nothing, but earlier when they’d come upon Bryce, Giselle, and Mr. Thatcher in a huddle, his instincts had gone on alert.
Bryce had made it sound as if they’d been discussing Landry family issues, but Luke didn’t buy it. The moment Mr. Thatcher had caught sight of him, he’d looked startled. Then he’d muttered something to the others. Luke was willing to bet they’d been talking about him.
How Mr. Thatcher figured into all this remained a mystery, too. But he’d latched on to Giselle immediately, and that was unusual for the reserved butler. When Luke had seen the three of them together, he’d had the oddest feeling, as if they were linked somehow.
That wasn’t logical. Bryce and Giselle were brother and sister, of course, but Mr. Thatcher had no connection to them. His family was in England, and the Landrys were based in San Francisco. So why did all three radiate a feeling of togetherness, as if they shared a bond of great significance?
He hoped that Cynthia would make some headway with Bryce and eventually could enlighten her confused brother. If anyone could pry information out of a person, it was Cynthia.
Cynthia and Bryce put in their order before heading off to the bar’s pool table. Cynthia chose a Long Island iced tea, and Bryce duplicated her order. It was a strong drink, but Luke had a better handle on his sister’s methods now.
By ordering something strong, she’d challenged Bryce to do the same. If Luke had to guess, he’d say that Cynthia planned to nurse hers and catch a slightly drunk Bryce off guard. Then she’d subtly pump him for information.
Luke settled at the table with Giselle and Mr. Thatcher. Giselle, who took the chair to his right, ordered red wine, so he did, too. He wouldn’t drink much. He wanted to keep his wits about him tonight. Mr. Thatcher, who’d chosen a chair across the table from them, asked for a gin and tonic.
A bowl of mixed nuts occupied the center of their round table. Luke offered some to Giselle, who took a handful. Then he pushed the bowl in Mr. Thatcher’s direction. “I don’t think I’ve ever shared a drink with you,” Luke said.
“Normally it’s bad form to drink with the hired help.”
Interesting. Yet the guy had suggested accompanying Giselle and Bryce to the bar. Luke decided not to mention that. “Seems like a silly rule in your case,” he said. “You’re like a member of the family.”
“I appreciate that. I feel as if I am, but still, you pay my salary. You don’t normally pay members of your family.”
“I’m about to. Cynthia will draw a salary as one of the Moonbeams. What do you think of that whole deal, Mr. Thatcher? Am I making a mistake?” He discovered that the answer mattered to him. Hired help or not, he wanted this man’s approval. He always had wanted it.