Page 11 of Codename: Dustoff
“Exactly!” He turned toward me. “She was fresh off her divorce, emotional as all get out, we met and had a crazy kind of courting, and then boom. She’s here, and now we’re living together. But it feels like every day she’s taking on a new project or changing things at the Tavern and I wonder if it’s because she isn’t really happy.”
I pointed at the light that had turned green. The sheriff was already a good half block down the road. Finn didn’t seem to care.
“You need to talk to Gemini. I won’t have the kind of answer you’re looking for. I can’t speak for her heart, but the way I see it, as an outsider? She’s doing all of these things because she wants it to succeed. She’s invested because she’s in love with you, and this is your venture together. She’s pouring her heart and soul into this place, this town, its people—because she wants to be one of us, to care for us as if she were always a townie just like us. Your fear has clouded your common sense.”
He ran his fingers through his beard, which was one of his biggest tells when he thought about what was said. At least he’d realized he’d been standing still and began following the sheriff again. Less than a minute later, he pulled up to an embankment, barely five hundred feet from the entrance of the county line bridge. A red Hyundai two-door sat nose first in a pile of snow. I couldn’t stop staring at the car. If they’d slipped just a second later, they would have slid down the gulch and into the river.
“But why would she bring in a bourbon tasting and all these fancy damn entrees? I thought we were trying to be down home and not high on the hog? If people want that kind of stuffy shit they can go and see Duane up the path at the resort.”
I think he was quite possibly more stubborn than a mule.
“Finn. Talk to Gemini. And I mean talk. Where she speaks and you listen and repeat back to her what she said so you truly listen to what she is saying. These types of fancy menus and local experiences draw people in. It draws them in from other towns, it gives the people at the resort something new to try. And townies who still think this is your pop’s biker bar get pleasantly surprised with an affordable date night with food on par with the overpriced bullshit slung by Chef de L’essant up at the resort.”
We watched the sheriff walk up to the car. Just as he approached, the door swung open, and a pair of legs peeked out from inside the car. They were legs I was all too familiar with, given they’d been the subject of much confrontation that day.
“Hey, that’s Amelia’s car!”