Page 9 of Sweet Chaos
Without preamble or an introduction, I stated the purpose of my visit. “I want to buy The Surf Lodge.”
“Well, that’s one way to cut to the chase. Not much for small talk, are you, kid?”
“Never saw the need.”
“How about manners? Ever see the need for them?”
I shrugged. Proper etiquette had never been my strong suit. There wasn’t anything proper about me.
“It’s not for sale.” Dismissing me, he returned his attention to his breakfast, mopping up the runny egg yolk with his toast.
Bullshit. Everyone knew it was for sale. A brunette waitress with a bright smile stopped at our booth and handed me a laminated menu. “Good morning. What can I get you today?”
“Just coffee,” I said, handing back the menu without bothering to look at it. I’d already eaten and had a triple shot of espresso earlier. I wasn’t here for breakfast.
“You sure you don’t want a breakfast special?” she asked. “Or pancakes? The chocolate chip ones are to die for.”
“Just coffee,” I repeated.
“Do you take cream in your coffee?”
I shook my head no, losing patience with the twenty questions. As I drummed my fingers on the table, waiting for her to leave, her eyes roamed over the tattoos on my forearms visible below my cuffed sleeves. Why was she still standing there, staring at me like I was an animal in the zoo and she’d never seen this rare species before? I shot her a look, questioning why she hadn’t left yet without saying a word.
Her smile slipped, and she took a step back. “Okay, I’ll be right back with your coffee. And a refill for you, Cal,” she said brightly.
“Thanks, darlin’.”
“Anytime,” she sing-songed, giving me another smile before she left.
Cal went back to eating and reading his newspaper so I leaned back in my seat, slung an arm over the back and waited. After he cleaned his plate, he pushed it away and eyed me over the rim of his coffee mug. “You still here?”
“Word on the street says you’re looking to sell but only to the right buyer.” That part I was making up. “I hear you want to spend more time in Nicaragua.” That part was true. I’d done my research. Had kept my ear to the ground, gleaning information and storing it away for future reference.
He crossed his arms over his barrel chest and studied my face. I remained silent and I waited. I could sit here without talking until the sun went down and not break a sweat.
“Why don’t you tell me why I should sell you that hotel.”
“I’m not Simon Woods.” I figured he wasn’t a big fan of Woods. Otherwise, he would have already sold him the property.
His brows rose. “You got a beef with Simon Woods?”
“Nope.” I hated Simon Woods, but my reasons were personal, and I wasn’t interested in feeding into any gossip. If it had been up to him, I would have been run out of this town a long time ago. Which was my motive for moving back here after I graduated college. I wanted to make something of myself, and I wanted to do it in Costa del Rey. Not LA. Not New York. Not Silicon Valley. Right here, in the town where the people had treated me and my twin sister Remy like trailer trash.
“You’re the kid from the wrong side of the tracks with a chip on his shoulder and something to prove,” Cal guessed.
“Sounds like you’ve got me all figured out.” Underneath the Tom Ford black button-down, I was still the guy who Simon Woods had called scum of the earth. White trash. The no-good punk who would never be good enough for his precious daughter no matter what I did or how much money I earned. I’d never be ‘one of them.’ Thank fuck for that. I didn’t want to be anything like those rich pricks.
“You remind me of someone I used to know.”
“Who’s that?” I asked, humoring him.
“Myself. And that ain’t necessarily a good thing.”
“I’ve been compared to worse.”
He chuckled. “I’ll bet you have.”
The chirpy server was back with my coffee and set it in front of me with a big smile then poured Cal’s refill and cleared his plate. “If you change your mind or you need anything, just let me know.”
