What's more perfect for a bar that has a strong bike night than that man sitting at my only table.
His vice president got up and went down the back hall to the restroom. I knew this was my only chance.
Taking a deep breath, I walked over.
The man looked up and waved his hand over his glass. “We’re good.”
“I, um, wanted to talk to you about something.”
He studied me for a long moment, and I couldn’t imagine what he was thinking.
“Sure, darlin’. Whatcha need?”
“May I sit?”
He lifted his chin to the chair in front of me, and I slipped into it.
I knew I only had moments before his friend returned, so I cut right to the chase.
“I have a trust fund from when my mother died. Pete is about to put this place on the market. I’ve got thirty-five thousand, but I’d still be short twenty for a down payment. Would you or your club like to invest in this place with me?”
His brow lifted. “Damn, sweetheart. That’s the last thing I expected you to say.”
“I know it’s forward, but who better to own a place like this?”
His hand stroked his jaw. “And what do you know about running a bar?”
“I’ve worked here for six years, managing for the last three. Before COVID, this place made a ton. It will again. Someone just has to have the vision to see the money-maker it can be inthe future. It has a prime spot on Main. Soon, the tourists will return.”
“I don’t know about soon.” He glanced around the place. “It’s also in a building that dates from, what? 1890?”
“1893, to be exact.”
“The girl does her homework.”
“I do. As far as the building is concerned, Pete replaced all the plumbing and electrical a couple of years ago.”
“What’s the overhead?”
I surprised him again by knowing the numbers. I gave him the utilities, the cost of our liquor supplier, and what payroll had been prior to having to let everyone go.
“I’m his last employee.”
“And when he sells, you’ll be out of a job.”
“Exactly.”
“Look, I appreciate your moxie. Took guts to approach me with this offer, but it’s a lot of money.”
“I understand, but opportunities like this don’t come around often, at least not at this price. Just think about it. Please.”
He nodded and extended his hand. “Name’s Richard Rockingham, but you can call me Rock.”
“Marguerite Celine Laroche, but you can call me Maggie.”
He grinned and tilted his head. “I wondered at that accent of yours. Louisiana?”
“Yes, sir.”