ask. Normally in this situation, she’d call Keith. Doing so now, though,
would tip her hand. She still wasn’t ready to let him know her plan.
She didn’t know how long her vacation charade would last, but she hoped long enough
to prove she was on the right track with the bar.
When a soft knock sounded at the door, she cringed before answering. She wasn’t ready
for Mr. MBA-Number-Nine, but she sighed and called, “Come in.”
The door opened and Colin O’Leary strode into the room, wearing jeans and a T-shirt,
and looking utterly delicious. She choked on her latest drink of water.
“Whoa. Are you all right?”
She cleared her throat and carefully sipped more water. “Fine, thank you. What can
I do for you, Mr. O’Leary?”
The muscle in his jaw twitched and he said, “My dad’s Mr. O’Leary. Call me Colin.
And it’s what I can do for you.”
Her mind flashed to about ten different things that she’d like him do for her, and
she felt heat creeping up her neck. She forced out, “What could that possibly be?”
“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