“That Sam or our lawyer wouldn’t have told us the land and the business were separate.”
“They did, remember?” Frank asked.
As I thought back to the overwhelming process we went through while purchasing the business, it sounded a little familiar, but I wasn’t a hundred percent certain.
When I shook my head, Frank said, “Don’t you remember when Sam said he had no idea where the original deed was? He assumed his dad misplaced it, so we had a new one drawn up that he signed.”
“So then it’s fine, right?” Nick asked. “If we have a deed—”
Frank shook his head. “If that guy has the original, then there’s a good chance it supersedes ours.”
Still thinking back, I supposed it was possible, even if it seemed farfetched. When we met with Sam, Frank and I had been ready for battle, assuming that he was going to take one look at us and laugh us out of the place.
I leveled Frank with a look. “He was so happy when we bought the bar from him, remember?”
“I remember.”
“You guys didn’t tell me any of this,” Nick said, clearly angling for details.
Looking at my little brother, I said, “He said he’d had plenty of people trying to buy the bar before we came along. He told us that he refused to sell to money-hungry yuppies or crooks.”
Frank let out a small laugh. “He said he knew it was a pipe dream, but he wanted Sam’s to stay a bar. He didn’t want someone buying it just to tear it down and build some swanky hotel or stupid fancy-schmancy boutique. His words.”
I nodded, grinning at the memory. “And when we told him our plans to not only keep it a bar, but keep the name and a lot of the original fixtures, he couldn’t sign the paperwork fast enough.”
“He said we were just what he’d always hoped for,” Frank said.
“Except that we were too pretty and young.” I rolled my eyes. “And he hoped we were smarter than we looked.”
“Sounds like another old man we know.” Nick grinned, obviously meaning Grant.
“No kidding. I just don’t understand how this guy could have the original. If that was even a possibility, wouldn’t Sam have at least mentioned it to us?”
“Unless he didn’t know,” Frank said with a shrug. “I’m going to go make those calls now. You two do your best not to freak the fuck out in the meantime.”
For some reason, his ste
rn tone settled me slightly.
• • •
The next week seemed to both fly by and to drag. I had no idea how time could feel so contradictory, but it had.
We still had no answers in terms of the bar, and the shady guy hadn’t reappeared. The three of us did our best to calm our nerves, but the threat hung over us every hour of every day. We’d even stopped taking our usual days off, all of us wanting to be at the bar in case something happened or if he showed up again.
“Is Sofia giving you shit for being here all the time?” Nick asked as I lined up a stack of dried glasses.
“No, why? Is Jess giving you shit?”
“Nah.” He laughed. “She’s working a lot, so she probably doesn’t even notice I’m gone.”
“Claudia?” I asked Frank.
He shook his head. “Between her job and the last-minute wedding details, she’s got enough on her plate. She realizes that I’m here more, but she doesn’t ask why. She actually tells me to come here when I’m not being helpful.”
“So, all the time then?” Nick said before I could, and Frank socked him in the arm. Better him than me.
I placed the last clean glass on the shelf and tucked the towel in my back pocket. “Have you heard anything yet?”