He flopped back in the seat, aiming a frownat the front of the car. “Wade makes me.”
There was a story there.
If I was remembering correctly, Wade seemedto be the worrier who was more of a caretaker omega. “Why does he make you?”
The only way the car ride would stayappropriate would be if we talked. As hot as car sex would be with Austin, Iwasn’t fucking him with the driver in the front seat. Not without knowing theman better first.
Austin seemed like he would rather be doinganything else but talking about his driver. He didn’t put it off, however. “Italk with my hands and I might have had a few fender-benders when I wasyounger. He finally put his foot down and said I was getting a driver. The onlytime he doesn’t mind me driving myself is if there’s no one else in the car andif it’s a short trip, like when we met on Sunday.”
I thought back through the stories I’dseen. “Were those the accidents where they tried to say you were drinking?”
Austin looked at me, grinning. “You reallydid know who I was.”
I snorted. “Answer the question.”
I wasn’t going to admit how well I knew hisantics.
Nearly giggling, Austin leaned in. “Yes,but I wasn’t drunk. I wouldn’t risk hurting someone else like that. But afterthe third time I hit the neighbor’s mailbox in six months, the news peoplepicked it up. He’s such an asshole. He had to have called them, but his mailboxis horrible looking and it just jumps out in front of me.” He gestured wildlytoward the front of the car. “Even Peter’s nearly hit it.”
Peter?
Hadn’t he said the guy was Ralph?
“Then it sounds like the driver is a goodidea.” Yeah, it was easy to see him getting so distracted talking on the phoneor even to himself that driving became dangerous.
“I’m a much better driver now and I haven’thad an accident in years.” Austin shot another frustrated look at the front ofthe car.
“But Wade still worries?”
“Yes.”
And making his friend comfortable was worthpaying for the driver?
Deciding that a change of topic might be inorder, I switched gears. “Tell me about the meeting. What do you have todiscuss?”
He’d talked about a few projects, but thisone seemed to be one of his favorites.
Austin was still frustrated, but theanimation was back in his voice. “I bought up a few blocks of the cutest housesand shops. They all need some work, but it’s going to be great for the area.There isn’t a good shopping district in that part of town.”
I didn’t randomly drive around town much,but if we were thinking of the same place, he was probably right. “Isn’t thatarea mostly vacant?”
“Now, but there’s a lot of new peoplemoving in around it. Most of what should be the main street just hasn’t beenrenovated, so everyone is looking in newer parts of town for places to putbusinesses.” Austin’s eyes lit up as he leaned back, clearly ready to chargeahead on his project.
“The demographics say the area couldsupport several more restaurants, but there’s nothing outside of a mom and popdeli that doesn’t seem to be doing well.” He sighed. “That’s who wants to meet.I own the building now, but they’re slightly angry.”
“Angry?”
“Maybe frustrated is a better word, butthey don’t seem to like the changes I have planned.” He shrugged. “I’m notraising rents. This is a long-term project for me. But they’re driving my agentinsane. We’re hoping that a face-to-face meeting will cool things off.”
Then he cocked his head and gave me a funnylook. “I remember old people being much sweeter when I was young. Were oldpeople always this angry?”
I snorted. “Probably.”
Most of my customers were toward theyounger end of the spectrum, but the retired people that lived in the area werethe ones who were more likely to make nuisance complaints to the cops about me,so that might have made me a bit biased.
“I just need to figure out what the realproblem is. Money, probably. The area doesn’t have enough companies to supporta deli. They close at two in the afternoon.” At that point, Austin seemed likehe was talking more to himself than me as he walked through all the problemsthe deli could be having.
I’d owned my own business for years, buthis ramblings about restaurant profit margins went right over my head. I wasn’tstupid by any means, but he seemed to be able to pull obscure data out of thinair.
