Could she?
“I can’t believe you threw them away.” Okay, she could totally blame him. She shook her head again, and looked straight at him, and looked straight at him, their gazes colliding once again. “I guess I’ll have to find something to cover my feet with and walk home.”
“I can give you a ride,” he offered, feeling terrible. This wasn’t exactly how he’d planned meeting his first staff member. And the manager at that. “My car’s in the lot over there.” He pointed at his dark blue Lexus, keeping his voice as conciliatory as he could.
Damn, this was a bad start. He’d arrived early so he could take a good look around wi
thout any of the staff following him or trying to explain why the oil was so dirty or the coffee grounds were reused five times. Once done with his perusal of the café, he’d planned to let himself out and sit on the deck, waiting for the manager and the cook to arrive, then introduce himself formally before they all went in.
But instead he’d been caught in the act. And even worse he’d thrown the poor woman’s shoes away. Christ, he was an idiot. “I can reimburse you for the shoes,” he said, grabbing his wallet from the back pocket of his pants. “How much were they?”
“I don’t want your money. I can buy my own shoes.” Her tone was resolute. She stared back at him, unblinking. He couldn’t help but be impressed by the way she stood her ground.
“Can we start this all again in a little while? After you’ve gone home and gotten some shoes?” He pointedly looked at her feet again. “Once the rest of the staff are here we’ll have a meeting.”
“But we need to open this place up. Customers will be arriving soon. They’ll want the coffee to be hot and ready for them. We’ll lose business if they see it’s closed up.” She glanced at her watch. “Damn, I’m already late.”
“It’s okay, I didn’t intend for us to open today anyway. We’ll probably need to close for a week or two while the renovations happen and we train some more staff. I’ll drop you at home and you can take your time getting ready. There’s no need to rush.”
She looked down again, as though she’d only just remembered she was wearing spandex. A crop top and tight shorts that clung to her, accentuating every curve. He looked away, determined not to be that guy. Even if she was crazily attractive, with her glowing, tan skin, her pink cheeks, and her sun-kissed blonde hair twisted up into a knot.
“You’re closing it? For a week! Or two!” She blinked as though the sun had hit her eyes. “But what about our customers? We never close.”
He looked at her for a moment – only from the face up. He figured that was safe enough. “Ally, I really appreciate your commitment to customer service,” he began, trying to find the right words to encourage her out of there. He needed to be able to look below eye height at some point in time that day. “But the customers will understand. They might even be excited. It’s not every day Déjà Brew moves into town.”
A flash of recognition passed her eyes. “That’s who bought this place? Déjà Brew?”
“You’ve heard of them?”
“Who hasn’t?” Ally asked. “They’re like the McDonalds of coffee.” Her eyes widened as soon as she’d said it. “Oh god, that’s your company, isn’t it? You own Déjà Brew? I’m sorry.” She lifted her hand to cover her mouth, and her face – already pink from her running – deepened in color. “But seriously, you’re planning on changing this place?” She shook her head a little, as though trying to jolt her thoughts down. “Are you renaming it too, or will it still be the Beach Café?”
“All our outlets are called Déjà Brew. Our customers like that.” He shrugged. “And you’re right, we do try to offer our customers the same experience, too. It doesn’t matter if they’re in Seattle, Sacramento, or Angel Sands. They know their latte is going to taste good.” He smiled. “It’s a formula but it works.”
“It won’t work in Angel Sands,” Ally told him. Was that a smug tone he could hear in her voice?
“Of course it will. It works everywhere.”
“Did you look around town the last time you were here?” Ally asked, sounding impassioned. “Did you spot any chain stores among all the boutiques and bakeries?”
“No,” Nate conceded, his voice low.
“And there’s a good reason for that. The locals and the tourists don’t like them. They prefer one-of-a-kind places, like this café and the surf shop next door. They love looking for books in a little independent shop that’s run by the same woman who’s owned it for the past forty years.”
“Ally,” Nate said, his voice even, “I promise you I know what I’m doing. Your customers are going to love the new outlet, and so will all the new customers we attract. But I need your help with this. You know the town and you know this place.” He gestured at the café with his hand. “You’re the most important member of the team.” He pulled the keys out of his pocket and walked toward the door. “Let me take you home and we can start again later.”
“I can walk.” She sounded defeated. “It’s not that far.”
“In bare feet?”
She wiggled her toes. “Yeah.”
He opened his mouth to argue, then shut it. He had enough experience to know when he was defeated.
“If you’re sure…”
“Of course I am. What’s the worst that can happen?”
3