Day old bagels, cream cheese and fruit that looked like it came from a can instead of a tree was hardly a trade-off for having to sit through a business conference. But at least I'd had the forethought to let Dylan know that I'd be taking all weekend off to make up for it. He'd taken several long weekends lately for nothing more than surfing and hanging out with friends, so I didn't feel too guilty asking for it. He had reluctantly agreed. Not that I had any exciting plans, but I needed to finish my damn kitchen. Frozen food was starting to get to me, like the stale bagels and mushy colorless fruit on the breakfast buffet table.

Kennedy, a very cute, albeit talkative, woman, who was still only thinking about starting a bar business, had followed me into several information sessions. I'd considered asking for her phone number more than once, but something told me she wasn't the type to just want to have fun and some good sex. I had no idea I'd become 'that guy', the sneak out at three in the morning with shoes in hand type, until it dawned on me that I hadn't developed an emotional attachment to any of the girls I'd dated in the past four years. There had been no one steady since Emily. Maybe I'd just started that relationship too damn early for my own good, and now, as a twenty-something, I was a hopeless asshole preferring a one or two night stand to having someone to come home to every night.

The chairs in what was labeled the East Conference room were lined up in perfect rows and columns. They were straight backed with little leg room to deter you from deciding to stretch your legs out for a quick snooze. The topic was internet marketing and social media. The presenters, a stiff, fake looking couple, were standing up front with their brightly colored brochures and three thousand dollar glowing white dental veneers. The usual laptop, projector and big screen set up was just waiting to be lit up so we could be filled with incredible, must-have information.

I found a chair at the end of the second to last row and scooted it back just enough to throw off the symmetry of the row and allow my long legs to stretch out. I picked up my phone and scrolled through to the few notes I'd taken in the other sessions. Not too much there that we didn't already know. It actually made me feel better to think that Dylan and I had done most things right, even though we were new to the business. And we'd been lucky enough to be local boys, so it was easy to get people through the door. So far, things were running smoothly, which made me wonder why lately Dylan had been hinting at wanting me to buy him out. Not that I had the cash or credit for that. It seemed he was getting the itch to travel again, something he did a lot growing up. He was four years older than me, and he was out on his own while I was still in high school. He'd leave for a few months and do some weird job like working on a fishing boat in Alaska or cutting hay on an alfalfa farm. Then he'd tire of it and come back home. And Michelle was always thrilled to have him back in the house.

"There you are, Josh." It was easy to recognize Kennedy's voice because it reminded me of an excited kindergartner. She dropped her many bags, a personal handbag, a laptop case, a thermal lunch bag, on the floor between our seats and sat down. "Here." She handed me a red sucker. "It'll help you stay awake. I heard from someone else these presenters are more interested in selling their marketing team than giving out good ideas."

"Great." I took the sucker and unwrapped it. "Thanks." I stuck it in my mouth and decided it would also give me less opportunity to talk. And since Kennedy had one too . . .

Nope. She had no problem talking around the candy. "I'm thinking of a bar with just craft beer. What do you think? Too cliché'?"

Since I didn't have any real opinion on it I just nodded and muttered 'sounds good' around my cherry sucker.

The woman presenter marched on her high heels down the narrow aisle between the chairs. She had the type of straight posture that every person should envy, but all I could think was 'damn that looks uncomfortable'. She clapped her hands sharply to go along with the military posture. "Hello out in the hallway. We are about to start, so if you could take a seat, I'll shut the doors."

I slumped even more and found a small space under the chair in front of me where my big feet wouldn't bother the lady sitting in it. People rolled in, bringing their loud hallway conversations into the room with them. The seats filled up fast, including the empty chairs behind me. I didn't turn around to look at them, but the person directly behind me had big shit kicker style boots. He rested them against the leg of my chair. It seemed that it was going to be a long session.

The presenters who had looked so prepared, as if they'd been ready to give their talk since they were ten years old, couldn't get their very informative power point up on the screen. Her posture was just a little more wilted as they circled the projector and laptop tapping keys and fidgeting with connections. Their white veneers disappeared behind tight lips, and they began quietly blaming each other for the presentation fiasco. It was probably the most entertaining thing to happen all day, other than the overly plump guy filling his plate with too many stale blueberry muffins so that the paper plate collapsed and his muffins rolled all over the floor.

Big foot behind me was getting restless, and I could feel him push against my chair. I chewed on my sucker to keep from turning around to say something. Although, the tense presenters would probably welcome a bar owner brawl for some diversion.

"Hey, check out this picture I took of Zoe bending over to pull napkins out from under the counter," the guy behind Kennedy said to big foot directly behind me. I still hadn't looked at him, but something told me we were going to be looking each other directly in the eye long before the end of the presentation. If there ever was a presentation. In the meantime, the red faced presenters had called for some tech support from the hotel that was hosting the conference. Two confused looking workers wearing maintenance uniforms shuffled into the room.

Kennedy laughed. "They need Barry, the tech nerd I went to school with. Every teacher had him on speed dial in case they couldn't get their stuff to work. I swear that poor guy spent more time racing between classrooms to fix computers than actually sitting in one."

I nodded. "Yeah, our guy was Roland, and if he wasn't available, it was his sister, Patty. Apparently, computer genius ran in the family."

Thankfully, Kennedy's phone buzzed. She pulled it out to have a text conversation.

I tilted my head to hear more about the sleazy bar owner who was taking pictures of his servers as they bent over for napkins. "Those mini skirts were genius. And man did Vandy hire some hotties. I'm having a hard time just trying to keep all their names straight because I can hardly think clearly with all those smooth legs and plump tits."

"Yeah, well, you keep your hands off of them or the boss will be handing you your ass, cousin or not." At least it seemed big foot had some integrity as compared to cousin.

"I know. I know. I just like looking."

The conversation was reminding me of Dylan and me.

"Yeah, look all you want. Not like Vandy isn't always checking them out," big foot said.

"Oh, especially that one girl. Oh man, is she a love and a half. You know the one I'm talking about. Like the brightest star in the sky."

At least his sleazy cousin had a bit of poetry in his heart.

"You know which one I mean? Damn, I wish I could remember names."

"That's because you have mush for brains," big foot noted.

The lights went out, and it seemed we were soon going to be treated to the presentation, only the presenters looked a little frazzled and less enthusiastic about the whole thing.

Behind us, mush for brains was still trying to come up with the name. "She's got those beautiful green eyes, and oh yeah, she has the sweetest little tattoo on her neck that says Rebel, Rebel."

I shot up in my seat and nearly choked on the candy. I moved so abruptly I kicked the chair in front of me. The woman twisted around with a fiery scowl.

"Sorry."

She turned back around and then adjusted her ass on the chair to let me know I'd really disturbed her.

But I didn't give a fuck about the woman in front of me or the clownish presenters or the chatty person next to me. My mind was racing as fast as my pulse as I put together a quick plan.

I needed to get information before the self-important presenters got heavy into their bullshit. I turned around in my chair. The guy with the big shoes had that forced, I'm too fucking cool for everyone, look on his face. He had an ugly ass tattoo of something that I couldn't quite make out on his neck, and he was wearing a blue button up shirt that was way too small. Cousin was a skinny guy with an extra long nose and a gooberish expression that looked permanent.

Before big foot could sneer a 'can I help you' at me, I struck up a conversation. "Hey, I was just hearing you talk about your servers, and I've got this group of friends—once a month, we leave the women at home so we can go out for beers. Some of them have big wads of cash to get rid of by the weekend. Your place sounds pretty sweet. In every respect." I was putting on a good show. "What's the name of the place? Do you have a business card?"

Big foot blinked at me and tilted his round head. "Don't you have your own bar?"

I'd forgotten that I was sitting in a conference filled with bar owners. Except for the woman next to me. "Uh, yeah, eventually. I'm still working on getting shit together. So should we check your place out? Or maybe you don't need new customers."

I'd gotten Kennedy's attention, and I was just waiting for her to point out my lie. Instead, she elbowed me to let me know I'd become the center of attention in the room. The presenters were waiting for me to turn around like I was sitting in a fucking classroom. I scooted back around and resisted the urge to flip off all the perturbed faces still staring my direction.

Seconds later, a silver and black business card slipped over my shoulder. I grabbed it from cousin's fingers and looked at it. Vandy's was a bar and grill in the city, about an hour from Camden Beach. I moved my eyes down to the phone number, website and name of the owner.

Trent Vandermeer. Fuck. What the hell was Rebecca up to now?

For the millionth time, I wondered just how different everything would be if not for that damn kiss.