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  “My brother said you were looking for a business partner. I’m here to apply for the job.”

  She looked him up and down. “That’s how you show up for a job interview?”

  He spread his arms wide and glanced down at his body. “A job at a bar? Yes. I didn’t think this was so much a formal interview as a business negotiation.”

  Nothing like a bit of arrogance in the morning.

  “Exactly why would I be negotiating with you?”

  “Because I can help you turn your bar around.”

  She crossed her arms on the table and waited.

  “I passed by the suits waiting out there. I’m assuming they’re here for you. What bar needs more suits to run it? You need someone who knows people. If you don’t have customers, you don’t have a business.”

  “I’m aware of that.” But he definitely held her attention.

  “I’ll admit that running the books isn’t my strong suit. Ryan has always been better at that. But I grew up in a bar. I understand people. You’ve been to O’Leary’s, different days, different times. I understand now that you were using us for research. You obviously liked what you found.”

  In so many ways. “It’s a very successful bar.”

  “It’s successful because people keep coming back.”

  “And you’re telling me that you’re the reason for that?”

  “I’m part of the reason. It’s the whole thing. It’s atmosphere. I can help create that.”

  He was onto something. He was the first man to walk through the door who had offered her what she wanted. Unfortunately, she wasn’t sure he could deliver. In the time since Ryan turned her down, she had done more digging. She was surprised at how much information people from the neighborhood had given her about the O’Leary brothers. The father founded the bar and Colin ran the bar for a while, but disappeared for years after his father died. She was sure there was more to that story, but no one seemed to have it. Everyone agreed, though, that Colin was the go-to man for a good time. Men and women alike all appeared to have a genuine fondness for him.

  She could see why. But she and Colin had unresolved . . . issues.

  “Tell me about the bar you bought,” he said as he lowered himself into the seat across from her.

  She slid a folder to him, the same one she had forwarded to all the other candidates.

  He flipped it open and a bark of laughter shot from his mouth. “You bought The Irish?”

  “No. Yes.” His laughter flustered her, making her feel like she was mentally unstable for owning this particular bar.

  He closed the folder. “Which is it? Do you or don’t you own the bar?”

  She cleared her throat. “I do. I personally didn’t buy it; my father bought it twelve years ago.”

  “That explains a lot.”

  “What?”

  “Ryan told me you’re from Florida. Why would your father buy a bar in Chicago when he’s not around to run it?”

  “I’ve been wondering the same thing.”

  “You didn’t ask him?”

  “You don’t have to worry about the reasons for ownership.”

  He closed the folder without reading anything she’d provided. “The Irish used to be a profitable bar. When the original owner died, things fell apart. Something like five owners came and went in as many years.”

  “I already know this. It’s a matter of record. What would you do to change what it is now?”

  “You have to close it and change everything. It’s a total dive right now because that’s what it’s turned into. If you want it to be something different, you need to start from scratch so the current clientele won’t want to return.”

  She’d been thinking the same thing. Closing the doors after the brawl had been a good idea. “When was the last time you were in there?”

  “Years. But I don’t need to go there to know what it is. Everyone in the area knows that The Irish is where you go if you want a brawl. The drunker and meaner, the better.” He leaned back in the chair and forced it to recline. His long legs extended under the table, and she had a flash of those legs between hers. He looked smug as if she wouldn’t be able to turn him down.

  “You don’t have the business management experience or education the other candidates have.”

  He smiled. “Neither does my brother, but you went to him.”

  “Like the saying goes, the proof is in the pudding. He’s a success. Just because you share a branch of the family tree doesn’t guarantee me anything.”

  “But you’ve seen me with people.” He thunked the chair back down on all four legs. “I was good with you.”

  Between his intense blue eyes and his low bedroom voice, his words warmed her blood again.

  “And that would be another reason to not work with you. I don’t have time for someone who’s more interested in flirting than working.”

  “Sweetheart, you flirted with me. I took your cues and acted on them. I’m completely capable of working with a partner without sleeping with her.”

  Part of Elizabeth felt relief at his statement. More of her felt another sting of disappointment.

  His steely blue gaze bore into her. No sign of lust. Nothing to imply that he planned to kiss her again. Not even a hint of sexual attraction. If they pretended that night had never happened, a partnership could work.

  She steadied herself for a strong negotiation. “I’ll offer you twenty-five percent profits and a bonus twenty percent when I sell, assuming you hold up your end of the bargain and bring in the customers. I remain the manager and boss and all decisions go through me.”

  “Make it forty percent profits and thirty percent on sale.”

  “You bring personality to the table. No proven experience, and you expect me to give you almost half the business?” She leaned back in her chair.

  “My personality is the one thing you need most. It can’t be taught or bought.”

  “Thirty profits and twenty-five at sale.”

  He narrowed his eyes as if computing, then leaned forward. “Deal.”

  “One more thing. No flirting. Just business.”

  He sighed like she was being insufferable. “Contrary to popular belief, I am capable of being professional. When do we start?”

  “It’s locked up, so we can start tomorrow. I’ll have the contract drawn up for you to sign when you get there. Nine a.m.?”

  “I’m closing at O’Leary’s tonight. Make it eleven. Even I need my beauty sleep.”

  “You plan to continue to work at O’Leary’s?”

  “It’s my family’s bar.”

  “I’m not a simpleton. There are only so many hours in a day. I won’t have you thinking you can drop by The Irish just to collect a check.”

  His smile was disarming. “Sweetheart, simple isn’t what anyone would call you. I’ll prove my worth soon enough. Seems a lot of people expect that.” He rose and extended his hand. “I’ll sign your contract, but a handshake will do for me.”

  She shook his hand and tried to ignore its strength and warmth and the zing of her nerves. As he turned to leave, she enjoyed the view and immediately began to question her sanity. She’d just created a business partnership based on a man’s charm. What the hell was she thinking?

  CHAPTER 4

  Colin left his meeting with Elizabeth feeling both optimistic and horny. As stiff and uptight as she looked, he saw a fire in her eyes when she began negotiating with him. His blood raced as she stipulated her terms, but when he touched her hand, he knew he was in trouble. He was half hard from a handshake.

  Getting involved with someone like Elizabeth would be a mistake, if for no other reason than she thought she was better than him because she had money and a degree. She needed to remain a business partner, a means to an end.

  His optimism outweighed everything else. This was the perfect position for him. A few months back, he’d made an offer on that exact bar and was told it wasn’t for sale. Now he knew why. Elizabeth’s plan suited
him and his own plans.

  On his way back to O’Leary’s, he drove by The Irish. It was locked and a posted sign read UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT. The bar itself, if he remembered correctly, was less than half the size of O’Leary’s. It would never be a nightclub or a hot spot. It would always be a neighborhood bar.

  He let his mind wander over the possibilities of what to do to draw in crowds. It wasn’t long before he knew what it had to be. A Chicago bar, on Addison, one short bus ride from Wrigley Field—a sports bar was the only thing that made sense.

  Back at O’Leary’s, Ryan stood behind the bar, talking to the old men who sat there every afternoon. He was dressed for Twilight, his other bar, so Colin knew he’d been waiting for him.

  “You’re not going to believe this.”

  “Huh?” Ryan asked.

  “I went to see Elizabeth Brannigan. Guess what bar she owns?”

  “Nothing around here has been for sale.”

  “That’s because Daddy bought it a dozen years ago. She’s the proud owner of The Irish.”

  His brother’s jaw dropped. “No freakin’ way. Did you tell her thanks, but no thanks?”

  I wonder how hard he’d laugh if he knew I tried to buy it myself. Colin shrugged, not sure how Ryan would take the news. “No. I took the deal. Thirty percent of profits and a twenty-five-percent cut of the sale.”

  Ryan snorted. “She offered me thirty-five. And I would’ve gotten forty.”

  “I figured. She pointed out that I’m not you and, like with everyone else, I have to prove myself.” He tried not to sound like a snotty teenager, but wasn’t sure if he’d succeeded.

  “You’re crazy. That bar is never going to be what it used to be.”

  “You’re right. That’s why we’re going to make it into something new. We’re going to reinvent it.”

  “We, huh? Already chummy, I see.”

  Colin picked up a rag and wiped down the bar. “It’s not like that. It’s a business deal, nothing more.”

  Ryan patted him on the shoulder as he walked past. “You remember that every time you think about those legs you mentioned.”

  He’d been telling himself pretty much the same thing. Ryan seemed to accept the news as well as could be expected. Tension still clung to their every interaction, and Colin didn’t know what to do about that. He couldn’t afford to waste any more time trying to make Ryan happy. The past was the past and they all needed to move on.

  Lucky for him, The Irish offered a great path for him to take.

  The night was slow, so in between customers, Colin thought about changes he’d bring to Elizabeth. Figuring she’d want more than him talking to her, he began taking notes on cocktail napkins. By the end of the night, he had twelve napkins filled with his scribbles.

  Elizabeth finally felt like she was making forward motion. She talked to Mike and informed him that the bar would be closed for renovations effective immediately. She told him that he still had a job, but to take a few days off so she could figure out where she needed his help.

  She’d had an additional sign printed and posted on the doors of the bar letting customers know it was closed for renovations. Then she returned to the hotel to prep for her meeting with Colin the following day. She created a list and a basic spreadsheet of what she thought the budget would be.

  Then she checked her appointment calendar. Her afternoon was booked with interior designers and vendors. With any luck, she could dump the vendors on Colin to handle. They needed to remove stock that wouldn’t move and order what would. Which meant they’d better have a plan for a drink menu. She added that to the discussion list.

  By the time she looked at her watch, she’d missed both lunch and dinner. Instead of room service, she decided to enjoy some fabulous food in one of Chicago’s restaurants. She wished she knew more people in the city. Running solo constantly wore on her. Maybe instead of fine dining, she’d find a good pizza. She hadn’t had Chicago-style pizza in forever, not since she was in college.

  Thoughts of Northwestern reminded her that she did know people in the city. She hadn’t visited in years, but she knew that Janie and Lori both still lived here. They spoke online at least every couple of months. And having dinner with them made her lie to her father less of a lie.

  She scrolled through her address book and dialed.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Janie?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s Elizabeth Brannigan. I’m in town and thought we could get together.”

  “Oh, my gosh. It’s great to hear from you. When did you get in?”

  “I’ve been here a little more than a week.”

  “And you’re just calling me now?”

  Her stomach sank. She’d believed their friendship was still good. “Well, I’ve been busy with work. I’m not here for pleasure.”

  “I’m just yanking your chain, Libby. Good to know it’s still easy to do.”

  Elizabeth sighed. No one called her Libby anymore. “I know it’s last minute, but are you free for dinner? I’m dying for some pizza.”

  “You’re in luck. I’m just leaving the office now. Where are you staying? I’ll come pick you up.”

  “I can meet you.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. It’ll give us more time to catch up. Have you talked to Lori?”

  “She was going to be my next call.”

  “I should feel special then, since you thought of me first.”

  Elizabeth didn’t admit that she’d simply come across Janie’s name first in the address book. “I’ll give her a call while you’re on your way.”

  “She won’t be free to meet us. She’s in love.”

  “I didn’t think she was serious with anyone.”

  “Things change, babe. You haven’t been around. You’ve been busy with your plans for world domination.”

  Elizabeth felt the chuckle in her chest. It had been too long since she’d spent time with friends. “I’ll call Lori. You hurry up and get here. Pizza and drinks on me.”

  She gave Janie her hotel information and hung up. Lori’s phone went straight to voice mail. After leaving a message, Elizabeth changed her clothes. She’d only packed work clothes, so she didn’t have anything casual. She settled on slacks and a silk shell, opting for no jacket. On her mental list of things to do, she added shopping for new clothes.

  Janie met her in the lobby with a strong hug. It had definitely been too long since they’d seen each other. E-mail chats didn’t accomplish what a simple hug could.

  “How are you?” Janie asked.

  “Good, I guess.”

  “What are you doing here? I thought your dad was focusing his operations in the Southeast.”

  “He is. I found a failing business in his holdings and decided to come here to fix it.”

  Janie led the way to her car. “What kind of business?”

  “A bar. A really crappy dive of a bar. Motorcycle riders and cancer-inducing smoke included. I hate every minute of being there. I’m so glad I decided to call you.”

  “So am I. How long do you think you’ll be in town?”

  “A month. Maybe a little longer.”

  “Good. Then we can hang out like old times. Maybe we can even talk Lori out of the guy she’s into.”

  “Sounds like a story.”

  Morning sun glared through the windshield of her car as Elizabeth nursed her coffee. She definitely should’ve stopped drinking earlier in the evening. Three in the morning came faster than she had remembered. But it had been fun to talk, really talk, with a good friend. They’d managed to discuss jobs, family, and everything in between. They’d overindulged in drinks and food. Elizabeth had loved every minute of it.

  She was paying for every enjoyable moment now. She should’ve said no to the last drink. Hell, she should’ve refused the last three drinks. It was good that Colin had pushed their meeting to eleven. At least she had time to grab a coffee on the way. The coffee burned a path down her throat and splashed into her st
omach as she parked in front of IP. The sight of the ugly building made her ill. Her stomach roiled and she swallowed hard.

  Stepping from the car, she shaded her eyes and willed the throbbing in her head to go away. Hopefully, the caffeine would help and she’d be more like herself before Colin arrived. She let herself into the bar and flipped on all the lights. The stench was even worse than the last time she’d been here in the morning.

  She propped open the front door for fresh air. She moved the CLOSED sign into plain view so people wouldn’t take the open door as an invitation. Staring at the disgusting floor and the bar that wasn’t much better, she shook her head. Her stomach heaved again, so she pressed her hand to her abdomen. Although she’d never been much of a drinker, she’d never gotten sick from it either.

  “It’s not that bad,” a voice said behind her and she jolted.

  Colin stood in the doorway holding a box of doughnuts.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  “Same to you.” He lowered his sunglasses and stared at her. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She turned back to the bar and swung her arm wide. “As you can see, the place needs a lot of work. I’m not sure it was even cleaned nightly. The smell makes me want to vomit, so I think we need to get rid of that first.”

  He put the box on the bar and ran his fingers over the wood. “The bar looks to be in good shape. I can’t tell much about the floor with this crappy lighting. Do you have brighter bulbs we can put in?”

  She shrugged. “I have no idea what’s here. I haven’t looked at any of the inventory. In fact, I was hoping that would be one of the things you could handle. I have decorators coming in later as well as a slew of vendors.”

  “Like to move fast, don’t you?”

  She was suddenly grateful for the dim lights as she felt heat creep up her neck again. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Do you know what you want to do with this place yet? How are you going to have decorators in here if you don’t have a plan?”

  “My plan is to get rid of the crap and start new.”

  “You don’t need decorators to get rid of crap. They’re going to charge you for stuff we can do ourselves. That doesn’t make sense.” He fished into his pocket and pulled out a pile of napkins. “I have ideas.”