Page 33 of The Perfect Melody

There’s a surprisingly large crowd, given that we’ve made it clear the big party isn’t until next week. My chest squeezes at how the community has come together to support my taking over the family business. We lost a few customers because we let the business grow stale and—though I never admitted as muchto Mum—I worried the turnout would be low even after all the work I’ve done to breathe new life into Bowman’s.

“It seems like everything is going smoothly. You’ve done a wonderful job, Austin,” Mum says, lightly squeezing my arm in support.

“Thanks for trusting me.”

She nods. “I’m sorry it took me so long to hand over the reins. I know that was frustrating for you.”

It was. Sometimes I felt like I was fighting an unending uphill battle trying to keep the place going. I never resented the assumption that I’d stay in Pine Grove to take over Bowman’s, but managing the place while Mum prevented me from making any significant updates really put a strain on our relationship.

She continues, “I let my fear that there wouldn’t be a place for me here after all the changes you wanted to make hold us all back.”

“Hey, none of that,” I say, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. We’ve already had the tough conversations, and I’m ready to leave that rough patch behind us. “Tonight is a new beginning, but you’ll always be a part of Bowman’s. Everything I know about how to run this place I learned from you.”

“I think you taught yourself a few things too, but I appreciate the sentiment.” A customer in her section catches her eye. “Duty calls. Try to enjoy the night, son.”

I watch her leave, then scan the bar for anything that may need my attention, my gaze snagging on a few familiar faces. The guys are all here, and I noticed that the group of women Mei often hangs out with has made an appearance as well. Cassie stops to say a quick hello to Gem, surprising me until I remember they’ll have met through Gem’s garage. Jamie is looking a little flustered where he’s working behind the bar, so I make my way back over there to help.

By the time closing hits, everyone is exhausted, but most are still smiling. The only obvious hiccups I noticed were Cassie dropping a plate and Molly getting someone’s drink order wrong. Before the shift started, if I’d had to pick one person whose attitude was going to cause me problems, I would have guessed Cassie, but I’m begrudgingly impressed with how she handled her mistake. She immediately cleaned up the mess, put in a replacement order with the kitchen, and brought a complimentary portion of fries to the table with her when she went over to explain what happened. Nobody kicked up a fuss, and the fresh meal was delivered shortly afterwards.

Unfortunately Molly did not handle her mistake anywhere near as well. She argued with the customer, saying they hadn’t asked for a mojito before eventually admitting she was in the wrong and putting in an order for the correct drink with Jamie at the bar. I have no idea whether the customer misremembered or not but the way Molly argued back was unacceptable. I’ll need to have a word with her about her attitude. Hopefully she was just overwhelmed because this was her first shift, but I’ll need to keep an eye on her to make sure there aren’t any more issues.

“Great job tonight, everyone. Get home safe,” I say, unlocking the front door to let everyone out. Gentle congratulations on a successful evening quickly turn to grumbles as the team steps out into the rain. It’s coming down heavily enough that the opposite end of Bowman’s small parking area is obscured.

Hoods are raised, and umbrellas opened around me as I turn to lock the front door of the bar behind me. Moments later I cross the car park towards the shelter of my SUV, pausing when I notice Cassie striding out with a determined look on her face. Surely she’s not planning to walk back to the B&B in this weather? Then again, I’m painfully aware that she doesn’t haveaccess to her car right now. A heavy sigh escapes me as I prepare to make an offer that I’m positive I’ll regret.

* * *

Cassie

“Are you planning onwalkinghome? It’s late.” Austin asks, brow furrowed. Is he… concerned? Forme?

“No car, remember?” I reply with a wry smile.

It’s not like I’d walk back to the B&B if I had another option. I thought Bailey had been exaggerating when she warned me how much my feet would hurt after my first few shifts. After all, I’m used to running and dancing around an arena stage in heels for hours. Compared to that, how bad could one eight-hour shift as a server be? Turns out she was right and I was wrong. My feet are killing me.

Austin’s mouth flattens into a grim line before he turns his back on me. Right, probably shouldn’t have reminded him I drove into his outdoor seating area. I’m about to continue walking in the miserable, icy downpour when his gruff voice stops me in my tracks. “Get in.”

Too used to living in the states I thought he’d been walking towards the driver’s side door so he could leave, but here the driver sits on the right. Austin’s holding open the door on the left side of the car—the passenger side—with an expectant look on his face.

“Me?” I ask, looking over my shoulder to make sure there’s not someone else there.

All I see is a handful of other employees getting into their own cars. Everyone but Molly is completely oblivious to our interaction—she’s staring daggers at me from across the parkinglot. For fuck’s sake, it’s not like I asked Austin for a lift.As if. Until two minutes ago, I’d have said Austin wouldn’t pour water on me if I were on fire—he’s literally the last person here I’d consider asking for a ride.

His emerald-green eyes roll skyward as though he’s asking a greater power for the strength to deal with me. “Yes, you. Unless youwantto walk back to the B&B in the rain?”

“No, I’m surprised, that’s all.” I scuttle over before he can change his mind. “Thanks,” I say once I’m settled in the passenger seat.

Austin closes the door with a grunt.Oh good, he’s not had a complete personality transplant. I was beginning to worry.

Austin folds his large frame into the driver’s seat, then buckles in. “You dropped a plate tonight. I was?—”

I cut him off with a groan. “If you only offered me a ride so you can scold me, I’d rather walk,” I say, fumbling to unbuckle my seatbelt.

Austin reaches out to stop me, laying one large hand over mine. “That’s not what I was doing. What I was going to say before you interrupted me was that I’m impressed with how you handled the situation. Explaining what happened quickly and offering free fries was the right move.”

My annoyance leaves me as quickly is it arrived, and I deflate. “Oh. Well, thanks.” Then, because I don’t know when to shut up, I add, “I didn’t have you pegged as the type to hand out compliments.”

“Maybe that’s because you’ve not done anything worth complimenting since we met.”