“When did that happen?” I asked.
I remembered the place being a mom and pop shop. An older couple had run the place. They owned it for thirty years. They were good people. I remembered they always planned various events that were family friendly. They were snobs toward the tourists like some people tended to be.
“Come on,” Cody said.
We went inside. The bones of the place were the same. Same layout, same view of the water through the big open windows along the front wall. But everything else had been stripped and replaced. It was aggressively coastal aesthetic to the point it looked ridiculous. All the cheap decor meant to make it look like a seaside bar was overkill. It had an ocean view—let that be enough.
We found a high-top table for two and sat down. The bartender was a young woman with a sleeve tattoo. She didn’t give off the beachy vibe. More like motorcycle chick that could kick anyone’s ass that got out of hand.
“What can I get you?”
“Two Coronas,” I said.
Cody waited until she moved away. “You look like a man who just sat through a firing squad.”
“That’s about right.”
“How bad?”
“Bad enough that Judd closed the meeting without a resolution. Three of the other investors are making noise about pulling out.”
The waitress returned with our beers. Cody handed her his credit card. “Keep the tab open.”
“Got it,” she said and walked away.
“You were saying,” Cody said.
“It’s bad enough that the relocation argument is gaining actual traction.”
Cody had the good sense not to say I told you so, even though I could see it sitting on his tongue. Hehadtold me so, but I had data. The data said I was right.
“What does Judd want to do?” he asked.
“I genuinely don’t know anymore. He closed the meeting and told everyone he’d reconvene in two weeks. He’s apparently bringing in some kind of community relations specialist. Someone who specializes in turning public opposition into a feel-good story. They’ll find a couple locals and package a story about how great the business will be for them. Send the kid to college and so on. You know how it goes.” I picked at the label on my bottle. “He wants to hire someone to make the people of Surfside feel like they’re being heard while he does exactly what he planned to do from the beginning.”
“That’ll go over great,” Cody said.
“It won’t,” I agreed.
Cody looked around the bar. “Damn, this place has no personality.”
“The change the people around here fear,” I muttered.
“You remember the summer Frank set up the volleyball tournament?” Cody said.
I looked at him. “You’re doing it too.”
“What?”
“Getting nostalgic about this place.”
He shrugged and looked around. “Hard not to. I keep expecting Elena to come out from the back with a plate of something she wants us to try. Remember she used to make jalapeno poppers. She assumed since we were from Texas, we knew all about spicy food. She used to bring out food nobody ordered and just set it down. Just because she felt like it.”
The bar was filling up around us. I was working on my second beer when the door opened and a familiar, boisterous laugh filled the space. I groaned. I didn’t have to turn around to see who it was.
Bodhi Finn walked in with two guys I vaguely recognized from the bonfire. One of them was tall and lean with the look of a longtime surfer. The other was shorter, stockier, wearing a hat backward, probably a gym rat.
“Don’t,” Cody said quietly.