He crooked an eyebrow. “Does he want to be?”
“Want to be what?”
“In charge of it. Head chef.”
She caught her lower lip in her teeth. He’d noticed she did that when she was holding something back. “He does, yes. I’m not sure he can handle it on his own, though. If this place goes as big as I think it will…but that’s another conversation. Let’s start in the basement and work our way up, all right?”
Without waiting for a reply, she headed behind the bar and through the red doors into the kitchen. He caught up with her and asked, “What changes did Hyram ask for?”
“A second cook surface, to keep the meats separate from non-meat items. Reduces cross-contamination risk. He’d put a produce prep station over in this wasted space near the basement door.” She opened said door as she spoke, felt around for a light switch and found one. The steps were finished, not open, not rickety as he followed her down.
“Wow.” Lily was standing in the middle of the finished basement turning in a slow circle. One end held a furnace and large water heater. The rest was empty, aside from crates of booze, in stacks. The concrete block walls were painted white. “This is a lot of space.”
“Not good for much besides storage,” he said. “Too far from the rest. Good to have in case of a twister, though.”
“It’s a shame not to use it for something.” She set her coffee on the water tank, held her remaining half-donut in her teeth like a fat cigar, and tapped on her iPad with one finger, which she’d wiped on her jeans, making a note. “What about that recording studio idea?”
“I mean, it could work, sure, but…it’s a distraction. We should focus on the honky-tonk.”
She muttered something. The words “God forbid” and “time at home” in the mix, and maybe a cuss word, which was unlike her.
Or not.
Having looked his fill, Ethan made an “after you” gesture toward the stairs, and Lily started up.
“Second floor next, huh?” she asked. “I’ve never seen that part. Have you?”
“Never had call to be up there, no.” He followed her out of the kitchen, around the bar and just past it, and up the stairs. It was impossible not to notice how those jeans hugged her backside, since it was level with his face as she trotted ahead of him.
The entire second story was a big open space. It had windows on all four sides, and a support beam in the center. Aside from a few boxes stacked along two walls, and a whole lot of dust, it was empty.
“Office space,” Ethan said.
“For you or me?” she asked, moving to the back, where a picture window took up almost the entire rear wall. Wiping the dust way with her hand, she looked out.
“It’s big enough for both,” he said.
“Wall down the middle? Who gets the window with the view?”
“I’m okay without a wall if you are,” he said. “Keep it open.”
She grinned. “I like it. Okay, desks should be on that side, so we’re facing this amazing view. No curtains, but maybe blinds, so we can block the sun when it’s too much.” She pulled her tape measure off her tool belt and stretched it across the room. He held the end for her as she made notes on the tablet. “A private restroom would be nice, too,” she said. “There’s plenty of room for one, and it would be better than sharing with the gen pop downstairs.”
“If there’s room in the budget, I’m all for it.”
“There’s a budget?”
“Not yet, but it seems like there ought to be, doesn’t it?” He looked at her with one brow raised, half-kidding, but not really.
She nodded, biting her bottom lip.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“There’s something. Go ahead, ask. You want to know if I can afford it.”
She shrugged, lowered her eyes. “Yeah, I do. I mean it is just the one hit song.”
