I poured myself some water to have during my shift. The door opened and in walked Simon Stark. He had some nerve showing his face in Salvation, much less this place. He looked around the restaurant and then headed toward the bar.
One of the things that made me a good bartender and manager was my ability to get along with everyone. That talent would be tested with Simon. That fucker not only tried to bully local farmers out of their land, but also he’d crashed my sister’s wedding and tried to discredit her in front of our friends and family. Who did shit like that? Simon Stark did, that’s who.
He took a seat at the bar.
“What can I get you?” I asked.
“Do you have Yamazaki whiskey?”
I smirked at his assholishness. Sure, Salvation was a tiny, nowheresville town, but we had access to top-shelf whiskey, although not Yamazaki. My boss felt the only good whiskey came from the south, or Scotland and Ireland.
“I’ve got Laphroaig Lore.” It was from Glasgow and had a similar price tag as Yamazaki.
He smiled. “I’ll take a double.”
I reached up to the top shelf and grabbed the bottle that most people in Salvation couldn’t afford. I poured him a drink and handed it to him.
“Things slow this afternoon?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Lull before the storm.”
He took a sip, nodded in a way that suggested he enjoyed it, and then looked around the place again. Was he casing the joint?
Finally, he turned back to me. “I understand you have a band.”
I rolled my shoulders, not sure I liked that he knew who I was. “I do.”
“I’m having an event in a few days and need a band to play a short set. Thirty minutes or so.”
“A few days. Something like that is usually booked months in advance.” Not that my band’s calendar was filled, but he didn’t need to know that.
“I know. I thought my secretary took care of it. Unfortunately, she thought I did. I really need a new assistant.”
I remembered what Sinclair said about Stark offering Trina a job. Is that why he was here? Did he know about me and Trina? Deciding I was being paranoid, I pushed that thought away.
“Anyway, if you’re not already booked, I’d like to hire you. I really want someone local.”
“You do know that you’re persona-non-grata after what you did at my sister’s wedding.” If he knew who I was, he also knew Sinclair was my sister.
He gave a chagrined smile. “Yes. I was upset and behaved badly. I’m trying to improve my image. Salvation is my home now and I want to show people that I’m not their enemy.”
Right. Stark was a good looking guy, but there was a fakeness to it. Like he was over-polished, not just from his expensive haircut and manicured hands, but also in his demeanor. I wondered what he was like at home when no one was watching. Did his hair get out of place? Did he drink beer and burp?
“That’s why I’m having this event. I’m trying to make amends. So, what do you say? Play whatever you want.”
“I doubt my band will be interested in working for you.”
Simon took another sip of his drink, apparently not bothered by my telling him we all thought he was a royal douchebag. “Okay. What about you then? Just you and your guitar.”
“No.” I took my rag and wiped the counter, hoping he might see it as a sign to finish his drink and leave.
“I’ll pay you ten thousand dollars.”
I choked. For a moment, I could only blink at him. Then my senses came to me. It was painful, but I had standards. “No.”
He studied me for a second. “Twenty.”
Holy shit. My instinct was to say yes. In general, my band earned fifteen hundred to two thousand for a gig. He was offering me ten times that for just me. But no. I’d be betraying Sinclair, Wyatt, and my town.
“Tempting, but no.”
“Twenty-five.”
What the fuck? All of a sudden, I thought he must have a hidden agenda. I mean who paid twenty-five grand to a nobody guitar player? Then I remembered he was a billionaire. Twenty-five grand was probably chump change. He acted like it was nothing. He offered twenty-five thousand like I might offer ten bucks.
“I appreciate the offer, but I can’t.”
He blew out a breath. “I can see it will be harder to get into this town’s good graces.”
I nodded. As far as I was concerned, it seemed unlikely he’d ever be considered a part of Salvation. We were nice people, but we didn’t forget or forgive very easily.
“Maybe when I own some of the local businesses it will help. I understand this place does well,” he said.
Oh hell no. Mr. Coffey wasn’t thinking of selling the Salvation Station to Stark, was he? He’d just talked to me about buying in as a partner. If I didn’t, did that mean Stark would own this place? I’d have to work for him? God, the thought of it made my stomach roll over.
Maybe I should take Stark up on his offer to play for him. I’d be able to invest in the Salvation Station and have a little bit left over. Better yet, I could keep Stark out.
“It does all right,” I said. “But why would you invest in a town that won’t accept you?”
He shrugged. “They’ll come around eventually.”
I studied him wondering how that would happen. Would he buy the town’s affection? Or would he buy the town and use his power to compel affection. He seemed like the tyrant type.
Stark downed his drink and tossed a fifty on the bar. “Keep the change.”
I watched him leave, and with each step he took, worry slid up my spine. Did Sinclair know Stark was trying to ingratiate himself into town? She had to because she’d been there when he offered Trina a job.
Then again,
