Chapter 10

Mike stepped behind the bar to take stock. “I’d have thought all the alcohol would be long gone by now. I guess you’re not heavy drinkers.”

Sam cleared his throat. “We like a drink as much as the next guy, but all of this?” He gestured to the bottles that lined the shelves. “It wasn’t ours to drink.”

Yeah, Mike had nailed it the previous night. Sam was a good guy.

You forgot sexy as fuck.

His libido would be the death of him.

Mike pointed to the door at the other end of the room. “What’s through there?”

Sam grinned. “Let me show you.” He walked toward it, and Mike got an eyeful of a firm ass, toned arms, and a muscled back.

Down boy.

Yeah, definitely sexy.

Sam opened the door, and Mike saw a steep staircase leading down. At the bottom, he found himself in a dark space.

“Let me hit the lights.”

A moment later, Mike was standing in the middle of a dance floor. There were pillars on either side, a glitter ball suspended from the ceiling, and another bar.

“Welcome to Decadence.” Sam flung his arm out. “During the summer you couldn’t move in here. Floor vibrating, hundreds of bare chests, covered in leather, sweat, and other… fluids.” His eyes flashed. “Heaven.”

“Are there many clubs in P-town?”

“A few. This place was always jumping.”

And it could be again.

A light bulb had just flicked on in Mike’s head.

He wandered over to the bar and peered behind it. “Think we can find enough money to replenish supplies here and upstairs?”

Sam grinned once more. “You talking about Anthony selling his ass again?” He tilted his head. “What are you thinking?”

“The Thanksgiving brunch is a great idea, but that isn’t until the end of the month. We need something to bring in money now .” Mike gestured to their surroundings. “So why don’t we get the ball rolling and open the club?”

Sam’s face fell. “I love that idea but there’s one major snag. We can’t sell alcohol. The liquor license expired at the end of December. And for us to get a new one, you’d need to register the change of ownership. All of which takes time.”

“How much time? And how much is a license?”

“Two hundred dollars, I think.” Sam sighed. “Which is about one hundred fifty dollars more than I have in my checking account right now. I think the others are in a similar state. And it can take forty days or more for a new license to be granted.” He stilled. “Wait. A license expires on December thirty-first of the year it’s issued in. If you try to renew it now, you’ll only be paying for a few weeks at most, and that’s a waste of money.”

“So what you’re saying is, we need to apply for it in January, and we won’t be able to sell alcohol for the remainder of this year?” Mike’s heart sank. “That sucks.”

“Mike? We have a visitor,” Ashley hollered.

Sam let out a growl. “Ben Sharp. I’d bet money on it.”

“Then let’s go tell him I’m not interested.”

To Mike’s surprise, Sam hugged him. “Nick always said you were awesome.”

Mike got a brief whiff of a warm, earthy cologne before Sam released him and ran up the stairs, Mike following. Sam came to a halt at the top. “False alarm.”

Mike stepped into the bar to find Ashley talking to a cop. A very attractive cop.

Ashley turned toward Mike. “This is Officer Patrick Murphy. He’s here because—”

“We know why he’s here, sweet thing.” Jim walked into the bar, his arms folded. “The same reason he’s visited every day for the past few weeks. And the answer is still no. We are not leaving.” He set his jaw.

Officer Murphy coughed, his cheeks flushed. “Actually, that’s not why I’m here. Mr. Hopkins informed the police department that the new owner had taken possession.” His eyes gleamed. “I guess you’re his problem now.”

“Then why are you here?” Sam asked.

Murphy held a bunch of posters in one hand. “I’m asking store owners and anyone who’s interested if they can display one of these.”

Mike went over to him and took one. The jolly red Santa and green reindeer stood out against the beige paper. “Toys for Tots?”

Murphy nodded. “We aim to stuff a police cruiser with new and unwrapped toys for Cape Cod families in need. The collection points and times are printed on there. I’m here because the toy drive starts today.”

Jim arched his eyebrows. “Patrick, you see any toys around here? It’s a bar, not a day care center.”

“Hey, I’m telling everyone, okay? So if you’re out shopping and you see something, put it in your cart. Doesn’t have to be expensive.”

“Thank you, Officer.” Ashley gave him a warm smile. “I think it’s a wonderful cause. I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Murphy’s cheeks reddened even more. “Well, that’s all I came for. I’ll be on my way.”

“Sure you can’t stay for a coffee or a cookie or something?” Ashley beamed at him.

Mike bit back a smile.

“No, ma’am, but thank you.” Murphy gave Mike a nod. “Welcome to Provincetown, Mr. O’Neill.”

“Thank you, Officer Murphy. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.”

Especially if Ashley has anything to do with it.

Murphy took a card from his pocket. “Here’s my number, in case you ever need to call.” Mike went toward him, hand outstretched, but Murphy handed it to Ashley. He nodded to the others who stood by the bar. “Good day to you.” Then he went out onto the porch and headed for the steps.

Ashley walked over to the door. “Tell me he isn’t gay,” she murmured, fanning herself with the stiff card.

Elliott snickered. “Actually?” She whirled around to face him, eyes wide, and he held up his hands. “He’s straight, he’s straight. And single, at least according to the gossip mill. Okay?”

She grinned. “You just made my day.” She slipped the card into her pocket.

Mike chuckled. “That poor guy. He doesn’t stand a chance.” He glanced at the others. “I’ve had an idea. It’s to do with the club. Sam’s been telling me about the liquor license. I think we need to talk about this.”

“I’ll make us a fresh pot of coffee.” Anthony went out onto the porch.

“Can we talk in the lobby?” Ashley rubbed her arms. “It’s colder than a banker’s heart in here.”

“That’s because we haven’t turned on the heating in here,” Elliott told her. “We’ve had to cut corners. Paying the heating and electricity bills ate up most of our savings.”

And they did that because of Nick.

Mike resolved to pay them all back. Somehow.

Five minutes later, everyone sat around the space heater, warming their hands on coffee cups.

“I want to ask your opinion,” Mike began. “If we opened the club downstairs for a couple of nights a week, but made it a booze-free zone, do you think people would still come?”

Anthony snorted. “They don’t come for the booze, they come to dance their feet off. And if you get a great DJ, we’ll pack ’em in.”

“Sure, some guys would stay away, but yeah, I think it would work,” Sam added.

Mike sipped his coffee. “If we’re going to do this, then we need to work out exactly how much money we have to play with, because there will be expenses. We’d need sodas and water, for one thing.” He grabbed the notepad he’d found at the front desk. “I’m going to go through all my stuff and see what I can sell. There are books, prints…” He glanced at Ashley. “First thing I’m gonna do is take the U-Haul back to Boston, then pick up my Jeep. And once I’m back here, I’ll sell it.”

Ashley frowned. “But you’ll need a vehicle. Unless you plan on walking to the store.”

“We have a car you can use,” Sam told him. “Plus, there’s Nick’s old station wagon. It still goes—just about.”

Mike smiled. “That’s a great idea.”

“I can always sell a few dresses,” Anthony said with a shrug.

“You can’t do that,” Mike retorted. “They’re your livelihood.”

Anthony rolled his eyes. “Not all of them. I’ll save a couple. Besides, I can always make new ones.” He buffed his nails on his sweater. “I taught myself to sew when Cal left.”

“I could sell Nick’s dresses,” Mike suggested with as innocent an air as he could muster.

Sam’s eyes sparkled. “You could—as long as you remember to save one for your Christmas performance.” He cocked his head. “Or did you think I wasn’t serious?”

“A guy can hope, right?” Mike wasn’t sold on the idea. Besides, people wouldn’t come to see him.

“What about Nick’s costume jewelry?” Jim suggested.

Mike blinked. “How much are we talking?”

Elliott chuckled. “Nick was a sucker for anything sparkly. There’s a box someplace where he kept it all.”

Mike shook his head. “I’m learning something new every day. I guess I can take a look.”

“Nick wouldn’t mind if you sold it all.” Sam’s face glowed. “Not if it’s in a good cause.”

“Nick would’ve given the shirt off his back if someone needed it,” Anthony said in a low voice. “That’s the kind of guy he was.”

Mike stared at him, surprised to hear his own thoughts mirrored so exactly. “Yes, yes he was.”

“About what we said earlier…” Elliott stared into his coffee. “I’ve been thinking. I might pay Stephan Yeager a visit.”

“Who’s he?” Mike inquired.

“He runs a gallery on Commercial Street, near Washington Avenue,” Jim told him.

“I’ve walked past his gallery lots of times and taken a look at his paintings. There’s some good stuff in there.” Elliott shrugged. “It’s worth asking him.” Jim stifled a snort, and Elliot glared at him. “Something wrong with that?”

Jim gave him an innocent glance. “Nothing at all, sugar. Would that be the same Stephan you drool over every time he goes running through the town, wearing those gray sweatpants of his?”

Elliott gasped. “I do not drool over him.”

“Bitch, please. I catch you staring at his bulge every goddamn time. You know, that makes it look as if he’s stuffed a large paintbrush down there? Not that I blame you. The way that thing moves around? Even I’m hypnotized.”

“Can we focus here? Please?” Sam gave them a hard stare.

Elliott’s and Jim’s cheeks pinked.

“There’s the guy who plays piano at the Crown & Anchor sometimes,” Anthony mused. “Phil something. I’ve seen him in one of the bars too. I can ask if he’d do a show.”

“And I know a couple of DJs,” Elliott added. “I’ll have a word, see what their rates are.”

“One more thing. The Thanksgiving brunch.” Mike gazed at them. “If we’re going to do this, we need to start advertising it now . And that means flyers, posters…”

“Leave those to me,” Ashley announced. She frowned. “I also have a question. Who’ll be doing the cooking?”

Three voices rose in unison. “Not Jim!”

Mike laughed. “Yeah, I think we already worked that out. And as soon as we have flyers, someone needs to deliver them everywhere. And I mean everywhere.”

“I’ll deal with that one,” Sam told him. The others glanced at him with wry smiles, and he raised his eyebrows. “What? So I’m practical. Bite me. We all work to our strengths, right?”

Anthony’s eyes twinkled. “Absolutely. And right now Mike needs someone who isn’t afraid to get down ‘n’ dirty, who’s willing to lend a hand, who—”

Sam glared at him, and Anthony mimed zipping his lips.

Mike scribbled some notes. “Then I guess we ought to get to work right away, seeing as we all have tasks to perform. First thing I’m going to do is see about the license for next year. Then I’m going to go through the hotel, looking at every room. I’ll assess what needs to be done to bring it all up to a decent standard.”

“I’ll do that with you,” Sam offered. “You just tell me what needs to be on the list.”

Mike flashed him a smile. “Thanks.”

Anthony stood. “Okay, girls, let’s get our asses in gear. There’s work to be done.” One by one the four men left the lobby, until only Ashley and Mike remained.

One glance at her face told Mike something was coming.

“Out with it.”

She blinked, then smiled. “You know me far too well. I just wanted to ask you why you invited me to pack up all my cares and woes, and come with you.”

He sighed. “We were both stuck in a rut back in Boston. No way to move forward and too much behind us to take a step back. I thought if the place was livable, we could stay here. If not, we could sell up and find something.”

“And now that you’ve seen this place?” She smiled once more. “You want to stay, don’t you?”

He nodded. “I think this could be a home for us.” Mike chuckled. “If we can survive the winter, we can survive anything.”

“And what about our four new friends? If— when —the hotel and everything else becomes a going concern again, and we’ve paid them back… What then?”

Mike hadn’t given much thought to the future beyond their immediate circumstances.

“Let’s see what happens.”

She laughed. “You do know they were prepared to do anything for you to let them stay, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I know.” He turned and gave her a sharp stare. “You know I wouldn’t, right?”

“Of course. You couldn’t let them do that to themselves. Or to you.”

Mike considered the four men who’d sat drinking coffee with him. “It’s just… they’re so much different than I thought they’d be. I figured they were, you know, literal squatters. I hadn’t expected them to know my uncle, or to have their lives wrapped up with his. To kick them out would be like telling family they had to go.” He sighed. “They might not be related by blood, but one thing does unite them—their love of my uncle.” He stared at her. “You know what? I’d be willing to bet he gave me this place so I’d look out for them too.”

“You could be right.” Ashley gave a big smirk. “By the way… I think one of them has taken a real liking to you.”

“What?” He waved his hand. “You’re imagining it.”

“I don’t think so. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And who knows? It could be the start of something genuine.”

“Which one of them?” he demanded.

“I could tell you,” she said with a grin. “But I think maybe this needs to be something for you to explore on your own. Build together. Does that make sense?”

God, she could be aggravating sometimes.

But he knew she was right.

Ashley beamed. “I knew you’d see reason.” And with that, she sauntered in the direction of their room, humming to herself.

It didn’t stop him from wondering which one of them she was talking about.

And is it the one I hope it is?