20. Chapter 20

Chapter twenty

Silas

I 've never heard Fenella speak so quickly. And with so much excitement.

Fenella doesn't show much emotion, other than the odd bit of disdain but suddenly, she's bouncing like a teenage girl at a Taylor Swift concert.

She thinks I should open a bar?

It's overwhelming how ideas and plans are pouring out, some fully formed, some sounding—pink cocktails made with local products? Bachelorette and birthday parties? Underage nights?

A Battle of the Bands?

But then—a birthday party?

"When is your birthday?" With all the time I've spent with Fenella in the last few days, it seems impossible that I don't know this fact.

"Two days before Halloween. We can—"

"That's in a week. You want to plan a party in a week?"

"I've done it before."

"But you had people to help you."

"You won't help?" The surprise in her voice cuts through me. "I can do it myself," she adds quickly, her voice chilling. "I would like to rent the place to have a party here."

The place has been empty for years. My parents bought the building as an investment property. It used to be pizza place but closed when the owner passed away. They thought someone would open a bakery or a café because of the tiny kitchen, and they would rent out the apartment upstairs.

It worked out just as they planned, except it was a sleazy insurance broker who wanted it and ended up scamming the people of Battle Harbour by getting them to invest in plans that would protect them from storms.

And when the first storm hit, he vanished, along with all of their money.

Since then, I haven't had the heart to make much of a push to find someone else. And Dad hated the idea of selling it because he's always full of ideas, just like Fenella.

Once or twice over the years, I've had the idea of an after-school learning centre where kids could get tutored or learn about science. But I hadn't done anything about it. The shop and Wyatt take up most of my time, and what I do have left, I give to the stars and my dreams about starting an observatory. I don't have the energy for something new.

But Fenella seems to. She seems to have a lot of energy for this.

She starts pointing things out; a bar would go there , a couch and chairs would be good there by the window, and would a dance floor be perfect there ? A good paint job would do wonders, and the right lighting, plus a cocktail menu that would rock my world.

"It'll be a new place. And it'll be fantastic." Her words bubble out like a pot boiling over.

I finally manage to get a word in edgewise. "You want to have a party here?"

"Yes, Silas, that's what I've been saying," Fenella says patiently. "And if it's a success—which of course it will be—I think you should think about opening it as a bar."

"I don't know. I mean we don't really need another bar in town." Fenella stares at me. "Do we?"

"A place where a woman can get dressed up, have a decent martini, and dance until her feet hurt? Yes, you do."

She sounds very convinced. And convincing.

"I don't even live here, but I know what you need. Or at least I know what the female population needs. I've visited every drinking establishment around here, and The King's Hat is the only one where I felt remotely safe to show up on my own. But there's nowhere to dance." Fenella spins around and does a little shimmy that I watch with entirely too much interest. "It would be perfect. Small, exclusive… you could rent it out for parties, like mine. No sports paraphernalia, no obnoxiously drunk fishermen groping and grabbing—"

"You've been groped here?"

Fenella rolls her eyes. "This would be the perfect place for a group of girls to go for a night out— "

"Without men?"

Fenella shakes off the idea. "Men could come but they're not needed. Doesn't that sound like a great idea?"

A place where men aren't needed? Not really, no. "Would you invite men to your party?"

"Are you asking if I'd invite you ?" She smiles. "Of course. I created a speakeasy in our basement for my brother's surprise twenty-first birthday. I got permits and bought alcohol and created the drinks and ordered food and the keg and…" She lifts her hands. "And I got a great DJ."

"Okay, but…" I shrug helplessly, not wanting to burst her bubble.

"I'll clean it up myself and paint it," Fenella continues. "Pink. I think that would be perfect."

"Have you ever painted anything?" I ask.

Fenella lifts her chin. "I've painted ceramics. And many toenails. I can ask Sophie to help. She's an artist. It's not that big of a space. We can do it in a night."

I turn in a circle, studying the space and trying to see it like Fenella does. She's planned it out in her head, and I can only see dirt and dust and the pile of leaves that has blown in through the open window. But still… "Okay," I say, like there was any doubt I'd agree.

"I can have a party?" Fenella gasps. "Oh, Silas, it'll be so much fun!"

I see her coming as if it's in slow motion—Fenella, dark hair flying, tiny sweater pulling up to show smooth skin and a sweet belly button marred by a diamond ring, throws her arms around my neck and presses into me.

She's hugging me. This is not the way to keep my distance. "You're the best, Silas!"

Oh, Lord, she smells so good. Like cherries. Dark cherries that have been warmed on a barbeque, if that makes sense.

She smells delicious.

And she feels even better.

"You really think you can do this in a week?" I ask, my arms tightening around her. It's just a hug—I don't need to hold her like this, but I can't let go.

Don't want to. It's been a while since I've held a woman like this.

And Fenella seems content like this, lying her head on my shoulder and breathing into my neck. Leaning against me, she's taller than I thought. I would only need to lean down a bit to— "I know I can do it," she says. "When is the meteor shower? The Draconids one?"

Being so close makes my head spin. "What? But—you remembered the name?"

"It sounds like dragons, so of course."

Of course. "It's… it's just after Halloween. Why?"

Fenella's arms squeeze my waist and then she pulls back with purple eyes sparkling. "I have another idea."

"That sounds ominous." The way this conversation has jumped around, I wouldn't be surprised if she wanted to go out and collect a meteor and somehow use it for her bar.

And I would be just fine with that. I would probably help her.

"It's not ominous. I have good ideas."

"You want to open a bar. Forgive me if I'm a little afraid of your ideas."

"You'll like this one." Her hands are still at my waist and she glances up under her lashes and for a moment I think—

"What did you want to show me?" I detangle from her grip reluctantly.

"Oh, I forgot." Fenella steps back and picks up the bag she dropped during one of her dances. "This."

She pulls out a cream-coloured woollen toque, with an enormous pink pom-pom. "So I can stay warm when you show me the stars again," she laughs.