“There’s an employee lounge. I keep coffee and shit in there, but it’s bare bones. If you want something specific, tell Lana. She’ll make sure we get it stocked. At the end of the hall is my office. I don’t keep normal hours, but if I’m in there and you need to talk, come on in. I don’t mind.” Aaron Rosen, the owner of the Rosen Air Museum and my new boss turned back after his tour and gave me an appraising glance. “Questions?”
“Nope.” The museum was medium sized, and while Aaron had managed to pack an impressive amount of planes and displays into the place, it was a pretty straight forward layout and wasn’t difficult to navigate. “I think I’m good. Ready to get my hands dirty.”
Aaron laughed and clapped my shoulder. “I like your attitude. Trust me, there’ll be plenty of time for that. But first, we’re having a staff meeting in about an hour and I gotta go pick up the food. You wanna come with? I’ll show you around town on the way.”
“Sure.” His offer surprised me. I’d have figured he’d want me to get right to work as we’d spent the better part of the last two hours touring the museum, offices, hangar, and shooting the shit. All of which was on the clock. But hey, it was on his dime. So who was I to argue?
Aaron led the way back through the museum and out the side door that led to a small offshoot of the main parking lot. There were a few vehicles parked there, and Aaron led the way to an old Army Jeep that had clearly been restored. “Sweet ride,” I commented, slipping into the passenger seat.
He fired it up and it sounded brand new. “Thanks.” He grinned in a self-satisfactory way and slid on a pair of aviators. “Got it at an auction. I was there for this sweet little T-5 Trainer, but ended up with this thing instead. Haven’t regretted it, although it was a pain in the ass to find all the parts, even with my connections. And, I take a little shit from Gemma about it being an old Army rig. She’s always trying to swipe the keys from me.”
“Gemma’s your girlfriend?”
“Fiancée,” he corrected matter of factly.
“Congrats.” I nodded and added the tidbit to the mental file I was keeping on Aaron Rosen. He was my boss, and it was going to be imperative to impress him if I wanted to stick around past the project he’d hired me for. Something I had a feeling I’d want to do.
“Thanks man. She’s an Army vet. Now she works up at the hospital. ER.”
I let out a low whistle. “Rough job.”
Aaron shrugged, one hand on the wheel as he guided us down the winding road that cut through the hillside before dropping us into the small town below. “She’s a champ. Doesn’t hurt that her ER is pretty slow most days. You’re new here, but you’ll learn fast that there’s not a whole helluva lot going on around here.”
I shot him a sidelong glance but didn’t press the issue. Since meeting him, I’d been sitting on some questions relating to the recent media coverage of the museum. It had been about six months, and things had died down. Still, in my research—before accepting his job offer—I’d done a little digging and had more questions than answers about what had really happened.
Maybe it hadn’t been as big of a deal as the media had made it out to be. But certainly wouldn’t be the first story that got blown out of proportion.
“All I know is that it’s a massive upgrade from Fallon.”
Aaron laughed. “I’ll bet. I was out there for a few weeks back in the day.”
“Not a pretty place.”
“You got that right.”
His laugh petered off into a chuckle as he turned onto the main strip through town. “All right, so here’s what you need to know about Holiday Cove, it’s a small town in every sense of the term. The locals are passionate about keeping it small and while they are very welcoming to tourists—they just don’t want too many of them, which means there isn’t a lot of businesses or anything that would draw in big crowds…well, other than my museum. But they tolerate that because it’s up a little way and most people just come up here for the day and don’t mess up the town.”
“Gotcha.” I turned my attention out the passenger window as Aaron continued his tour guide spiel. The town had a definite gingerbread-meets-the-beach vibe to it. The houses were mostly bungalow or Craftsman style, with cedar siding, white fences, and postage stamp yards, complete with gnome statues and bunny sculptures with painted on clothing. The businesses were all small and seemed to be family-owned, not part of a chain or franchise: Tom’s Hardware, Jenny’s Salon, Sal’s Butcher Block.