Kitabı oku: «The Wedding Bargain», sayfa 3

He left the den and followed his nose to the kitchen.

“You’re earlier than usual.” His mother reached up and gave him a hug, then presented one lightly powdered cheek for a kiss. She was one of those rare women who appeared in the kitchen first thing in the morning fully dressed, hair done and makeup applied, long before anyone else in the family was awake.

“I’m meeting with Ginny this morning, then I have a working lunch with Drew Attwell at the winery. That should wrap up by two at the latest, and then I’ll come back and spend the rest of the afternoon with Ben.”

“Thank you. He’s been asking about you every five minutes. I haven’t seen Drew in a while. How’s he doing these days?”

“Working as hard as ever. He’s the best winemaker in the valley, in my opinion, and I don’t think you’ll find many people who’ll disagree.” He picked up a fresh scone, still warm from the oven, broke it in half and inhaled the scent of finely grated orange peel. “Smells delicious. I was counting on being here in time for breakfast.”

She smiled up at him. “I thought you might be. That’s why I baked them.”

His mother’s scones were the best in the world, bar none. “Thanks. These are delicious, as always.”

“Vanessa didn’t come up with you?”

This was bound to come up sooner or later, so he might as well get it over with. “We’re not seeing each other anymore.”

Sophia had started to load the dishwasher, but she stopped and gave him one of her intense stares. “I’m sorry to hear that. What happened?”

“She’s looking for greener pastures.” As in the color-of-money green.

“Hard to imagine her finding a better catch than you.”

And Vanessa had seen him as exactly that—a good catch. It hadn’t taken him long to realize their relationship was going nowhere, and if he hadn’t been so preoccupied with business he would have broken things off himself. Better that she’d been the one to end it, though. Fewer hard feelings on her part and none on his.

“She was looking for an engagement ring,” he said. The bigger and more expensive, the better. Problem was, he was not in the market for a trophy wife. “I didn’t give her one.”

“Michael, you’re thirty-seven. I know you have a good life, but I would like to see you settled with a wife and family.”

With an emphasis on family. Sophia Morgan was extremely proud of her children’s accomplishments and at the same time intensely disappointed that so far not one of them had produced a grandchild. She reminded them of that shortcoming every chance she got.

“It’ll happen when it happens, Mom.” Just not with a gold digger like Vanessa.

Jess, by comparison, struck him as a woman with a mind of her own and an unwillingness to settle for being anybody’s trophy wife, although she was certainly stunning enough to pass for one, even in a well-worn pair of blue jeans and a baggy man’s shirt. There’d never been a shortage of women for him to take to dinner, but it had been ages since he’d been in such a hurry to invite one to join him. He was looking forward to next Thursday, and he had a hunch Jess was, too, if for no other reason than to satisfy her curiosity about him and check out the latest competition for the Whiskey Sour.

“So, any prospects?” his mother asked.

“Not so far.” There was no point in telling her about Jess, because the tiny, insignificant detail of them not yet having had a first date would not stop from her from daydreaming about bridal registries and grandbabies.

“Poppy!” Ben had flung open the French doors off the breakfast room and an energetic little ball of white fluff tore through the kitchen and tackled Michael’s shoe.

Michael scooped the little dog into his arms. “How is she?” he asked Ben.

“She poops on the lawn.”

Sophia ignored her youngest child’s lack of discretion and poured a cup of coffee for Michael. “The lawn is a vast improvement over the carpet in the family room,” she said in a droll voice.

He picked up the coffee cup, laughing. “Thanks, Mom.”

The little bichon frise had been Ben’s birthday gift from the family last year. He called her Poppy because she had looked like an oversize kernel of popcorn, which happened to be his favorite food, and it was an easy word for him to say. He had gone through a worrisome period of leth argy that had puzzled the doctors and troubled the family. They’d tried everything to coax him out of it, but nothing worked. Nothing, until Poppy had come into his life. His mother had reluctantly agreed to the dog, in part because she’d been so worried about Ben and also because Ginny and her husband had promised to take it if it didn’t work out with Ben. They had hoped that having a dog would help to keep him active, and it had paid off.

“Have you been taking her for a walk every day?” he asked his brother.

Ben’s head bobbed enthusiastically. “Two times.” He held up one hand and displayed all five digits, then tried to cover several of them with the other hand.

“We walk her through the vineyard twice a day,” their mother said. “Every morning and again before dinner.”

Michael tousled his brother’s hair. “Good job, Ben.”

Ben beamed.

“Lexi called last night. She said she has to work today.” His mother gave him an admonishing look. “She said she’ll drive up in time for Ben’s birthday dinner tonight.”

Michael set a squirming Poppy on the floor. “It’s not my fault she’s working all day. I asked her to take a look at a property I’m interested in, but she didn’t have to do it today.”

“You knew very well she wouldn’t postpone something like that.”

True. Neither would he. He appreciated Lexi’s prompt attention to this, since this latest prospect was the best he’d seen so far. Tonight he would find time to have a private talk with her about checking out the Whiskey Sour—surreptitiously, of course—because he was becoming convinced that he should hold off making an offer on the other location until he’d had dinner with Jess. Her place needed a lot less work and could be open for business much sooner than the dump he’d seen yesterday. That meant he could even sweeten the deal for Jess and it would be a win-win situation for both of them. She’d been pretty adamant about not selling, but money had a way of changing people’s minds.

“You and Lexi are both cursed with the Morgan workaholic gene.”

As far as he was concerned, not putting off till tomorrow what could be done today hardly made him a workaholic, and it sure didn’t seem like a curse. In the eight years since his father had passed away, he had taken Morgan Estate Winery from a small family-owned-and-operated cottage industry to a large, successful company with numerous vineyards throughout the Napa Valley, and now an expanding chain of wine bars in San Francisco.

“What are you and Ginny up to this morning?”

“She’s wrapping up the marketing campaign for the new pinot noir we’re releasing this fall and wants me to take a look at it.”

“Ginny shouldn’t be working at all. It’s only been two months since she was—” His mother paused and glanced at Ben, who was watching television in the family room. “Since she was in the hospital.”

Michael sighed. His sister wasn’t sick, she’d had a miscarriage a month ago and she seemed to be doing fine. “Ginny’s the most conscientious person I know. She wouldn’t be working if her doctor hadn’t green-lighted her.”

“She might be fine physically, but she’s still emotionally vulnerable.”

“Then keeping busy is probably good for her.” He covered one of his mother’s hands with both of his. “It’s what you would do.”

He could tell from her reaction that he was right and she knew it.

“I know you want to protect us and make everything perfect, but we’re all capable, responsible adults.”

She cast another look at Ben, but this time her eyes were filled with love and just a hint of longing for something that would never be.

He knew what she was thinking. All of you except Ben.

He knew she worried about his future, about what would happen to him when the day came that she couldn’t look after him. Michael and his sisters had made a commitment to continue contributing to the trust fund their father had set up for Ben, but that’s not what concerned Sophia Morgan. Since no one knew Ben the way she did, no one could possibly love him as much as she did. Which wasn’t true—Michael and his sisters doted on their little brother, even though they’d never talked about who would look after him if their mother couldn’t. Partly because no one was ready to accept the reality that their mother wasn’t getting any younger and partly because each secretly hoped one of the others would step up and take on the responsibility.

Ben abandoned the television and wandered back to the kitchen.

“Would you like a scone?” Sophia asked.

“Juice.”

“Juice, please.”

Ben gave her an eager nod.

“Can you say it?”

“Yup. Juice puh-leeeeez.”

“Good boy. Sit with Michael and I’ll get it for you.”

Ben settled into the next chair. “Mikey wants juice?”

“No, thanks. I’ll stick with coffee.”

“Don’t like coffee,” Ben said. “Like juice.” As soon as his mother set the glass of orange juice in front of him, he grabbed it and took a gulp. “See? Mustache!” he said, pointing to his upper lip.

Sophia handed him a napkin.

Michael laughed. “I see that.”

“We’ll fix the car?”

“Not today,” Michael reminded him. “I’m going to see Aunt Ginny this morning.”

“Ginny’s baby got lost. Me ’n’ Poppy are looking for it.”

“Are you? Ginny must be happy about that.”

“Yup. Dogs are good at finding people.”

“They sure are.”

“What time did you say you’d be back?” his mother asked. She looked more tired than usual and he wondered if she was feeling all right.

“I should be back here by two o’clock.”

Ben drained his glass and set it on the table with a loud thunk. “Then we’ll fix the car?”

“Not today. But I met a mechanic in the city yesterday, and he’s going to help me find some of the parts we need. As soon as we get those, we’ll fix it. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“How about we take Poppy for a walk this afternoon?” He had thought that would free up some of Sophia’s time to work on the birthday dinner preparations, and her look of gratitude told him he was right. He was happy to do that for her, just as he was happy to spend the time with Ben, and it had been months since he’d walked through the vineyard here at the house.

“Go for a walk an’ look for the baby.”

“Good idea.” He could see that his mother was losing patience with Ben’s repeated references to the missing baby, but it was his way of processing information. Sophia had decided it best not to try to explain the miscarriage to him and that had probably been a good idea, but he had overheard her say that Ginny had lost the baby, and he had taken it literally. Ben’s preoccupation with the missing infant would last until something else out of the ordinary captured his attention.

Sophia Morgan’s impatience was uncharacteristic, though, which caused him another little niggle of concern. He and his sisters tended to take her for granted, but she wasn’t getting any younger. If looking after the house and Ben and the dog were becoming too much for her, then they needed to find a solution. Since none of them were in a position to take on the responsibility of caring for Ben, it was time they looked into hiring someone who could. He watched the way his mother efficiently organized baking pans and utensils and the ingredients for Ben’s birthday cake, and dreaded the day he’d have to break that news to her.

Chapter Four

After Ben’s birthday dinner, Michael stood on the terrace outside the French doors, listening to the stillness and enjoying a few moments of solitude while waiting for Poppy to do her business and come back inside for the night. Ginny and Paul had gone home and Lexi was putting away the last load from the dishwasher. Like all of Sophia Morgan’s dinner parties, this one had been a triumphant success. Now the birthday boy was upstairs getting ready for bed, with his mother’s help, of course. It was something Ben should be doing by himself, but Sophia had been babying him for twenty-one years and she wasn’t about to stop. When the time came to hire a caregiver for Ben, this would make finding someone suitable that much harder.

Michael whistled softly when the little white dog disappeared beneath some shrubs. She reappeared and raced across the lawn, a flash of white hurtling in his direction. “Time to come in, you little rascal.”

Inside the house, she tore through the family room toward the kitchen, leaping and jumping around Lexi’s legs.

“Get down!” She finished stacking clean dinner plates on the counter and closed the dishwasher. “This dog has no manners at all.” But much as she tried to feign indifference toward Poppy, Michael had caught her sneaking tidbits of food off her plate and feeding them to the little dog that sat eagerly under her chair. He also knew she’d leave her bedroom door ajar when she went to bed, with the hope that Poppy might find her way in there.

Carefully hidden beneath Lexi’s tough, no-nonsense exterior was a soft heart and a generous spirit that few people ever got to see. She had always been the studious one in the family, bookish, really, with an artistic flair. While Ginny tended to be a little flamboyant at times, Lexi had a quieter, more casual elegance about her. Ginny was all laughter and warm hugs and put family first. Lexi was more reserved and 100 percent committed to her career. At thirty-one she was already one of San Francisco’s up-and-coming architects. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about the family, Poppy included. She just didn’t wear her heart on her sleeve.

“How about another glass of wine?” he asked. “Neither of us has to drive anywhere tonight.”

“You know what I’d really like?”

“Gee, let me guess.”

She grinned. “A beer.”

Three generations of Morgans in the wine-making business had not rubbed off on her. “Mom always keeps some in the fridge. Help yourself.”

He got her a glass from the cabinet on the other side of the kitchen and uncorked a bottle of the pinot noir they’d had with dinner—the new wine they were getting ready to release and the focus of Ginny’s latest marketing campaign. It was one of the finest he’d tasted in a good long while, and definitely Morgan Estate’s best pinot noir yet. Elegant, smooth and complex.

He and Lexi carried their drinks into the den. She curled up in one of the big leather armchairs and tucked her feet under her.

The room felt cool, so Michael flipped the switch to turn on the gas fireplace, then took the other chair and lifted his feet onto the ottoman. They held up their glasses and touched one to the other. “Cheers,” they said unison.

He held up his glass to the firelight and studied the contents. “What did you think of the new wine? You didn’t say anything about it during dinner.”

“I liked it. Aroma of black cherry and raspberry with a hint of floral. Soft tannins, balanced flavors of ripe cherries with a touch of spice. Medium finish with a subtle earthiness,” she said, carefully repeating everything he and Ginny had said as they’d introduced it to the family.

He laughed at that. “Good to know you were paying attention.”

“Seriously, I do like it. It’s a lot mellower than the merlot you released earlier this year.”

Her mention of that particular wine, which happened to be one of his all-time favorites, reminded him of Jess’s wine-tasting tutorial at the wedding reception. She probably would have preferred beer, too.

“What are you smiling about?” Lexi asked.

“Nothing,” he said quickly. He definitely wanted to talk to her about Jess, just not about last Saturday evening. “I was just thinking Mom threw a great party tonight.”

“She always does, and your gift was a big hit.”

“I knew it would be.” He had searched online and found a model of a 1954 Morgan like the one their father had bought but never got around to restoring—the car he and Ben were now working on. Ben loved that car, and he had proudly carried the model up to his bedroom tonight, declaring his intention to sleep with it. Changing his mind would require a great deal of patience and some creative alternative suggestions from their mother.

“How did Mom seem to you tonight?”

“Same as ever. Organized and totally in control. Formidable. Why?”

“When I got here this morning she looked kind of tired—worn-out, actually.”

“You worry too much. She seems fine to me.”

Lexi was probably right. Ginny had said much the same thing when he’d asked her, and she spent more time with their mother than either he or Lexi did, so he should trust her judgment. Especially since he had more pressing matters on his mind.

“So you had a chance to take a look at the building I saw this week. What did you think?” He’d been itching to ask since the moment she arrived, but their mother had one rule about discussing business during dinner. It was strictly forbidden. Dinnertime was family time, no exceptions.

“I spent a couple of hours there this afternoon and gave the place a pretty good going over.”

“And?”

“I have to tell you, Michael, it needs a lot of work. New wiring for sure, and the plumbing is way below standard. It might need a seismic upgrade, too, but that’s outside my area of expertise. We’ll have to bring in an engineer to be sure.”

If that was the case, he would have to seriously re-think the budget for this project. “Do you think it’s a good investment?”

“Right now? In that part of the city? Definitely. Of course, how good an investment will depend on how much money you’re prepared to put into it.”

“I’ve been thinking the same thing.” He sipped his wine thoughtfully. He’d also been thinking that a building in better shape would be an even better investment.

“I have some ideas about how to maximize the main-floor space, and I’ll give some more thought to the offices on the second floor. If you still plan to lease that space upstairs, you can get away with something fairly generic. That’ll save you a few bucks.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing what you have in mind.” She had been right on the money with the first two wine bars, and he was confident she’d do the same with this location.

“I ran out of time this afternoon, so I’ll go back on Saturday and check out a few more things. After that, I’ll write up a preliminary report and get it to you by Monday, Tuesday at the latest. How does that sound?”

“Makes me glad you’re part of the family.” And he meant it. “While you’re at it, can I ask another favor?”

“Another favor? Gee, you’d almost think you’re the one who paid my college tuition and helped me set up a business.”

She always adopted that pseudosarcastic tone to cover up her gratitude, and as usual he wasn’t buying it. “Come on, Lex. I didn’t pay for it, the family did.” None of this was just about him, especially not the money.

“Yeah, yeah. So what’s the favor?”

“I’d like you to check out another building a couple of blocks away. Similar in size and age, I think, but in much better shape.”

“What’s the asking price? I can already tell you that if it’s in the same ballpark, you’d be way further ahead.”

“About that…there’s a bit of a hitch.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s technically not for sale.”

Her glass paused on its way to her mouth. “I see. That’s a bit of a hitch, all right. Is it vacant?”

“No. Right now it’s a grungy little bar called the Whiskey Sour.”

“Sounds like something out of the fifties. In a good way, I suppose.” She laughed, took a drink and set the glass on the small table between them.

“I gather it was a going concern in its heyday.”

“And now?”

He shrugged. “Not so much. Seems to be a hangout for some of the locals. Mechanics, warehouse workers.”

“A blue-collar joint isn’t your usual hangout. How did you happen upon the Whiskey Sour?”

He had nothing to hide. “I met the owner at a wedding.”

She was studying him like a textbook. “Who got married?”

“Remember the artist we commissioned to do the paintings for the wine bar at Fisherman’s Wharf? Her daughter got married and I got an invitation.”

Lexi’s scrutiny intensified. “And you went?”

Of course he’d gone. The bride’s mother was a well-known artist, her father was a bestselling author, the guest list was equally impressive, and that added up to a lot of potential business contacts. Instead of explaining that to Lexi, he decided to have some fun with her instead. “Why wouldn’t I go? Weddings are great places to meet women. Everyone knows that.”

She picked up her glass, took a mouthful and swallowed slowly without taking her eyes off him. “Interesting.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I’m not surprised you met a woman—they throw themselves at you all the time—but to have the good fortune to meet one who happens to own a bar that isn’t doing so well, in the area where you just happen to be in the market for a bar. Nice work.”

Jess had definitely not thrown herself at him. The opposite, in fact. But Lexi didn’t need to know it had taken all his powers of persuasion just to get her on the dance floor. “She was one of the bridesmaids and she didn’t have a date, so I asked her to dance.”

Lexi rolled her eyes.

“I was doing her a favor,” he said, knowing she wouldn’t take him seriously. “No one wants to see a beautiful woman turn into a wallflower.”

“And they say chivalry is dead. Shows you what they know.”

“Very funny. And for the record, finding out she owns a bar in that neighborhood was a complete coincidence. I swear.”

“Hey, I believe you. But even though it’s not for sale, you still want me to take a look at it? This makes me think that you, dear brother, are working on a plan to sweet-talk this beautiful woman into selling the place to you.”

“By the sound of things, I’ll be doing her a favor.” After seeing the place, he was sure of it. “She inherited it and I get the impression she doesn’t know much about running a business. We’re meeting next week to talk about it.”

Lexi uncurled her legs and stretched them toward the fire. “Mmm, nice. So, does the woman know it’s a meeting or does she think it’s a date?”

Few people could make him squirm the way Lexi could. “She knows I’m looking for a location for a wine bar. And if you must know, she said no to going to dinner with me until I told her it was just a business meeting.”

“She said no? To you? That’s interesting. What’s this woman’s name?”

“Jess Bennett. Why?”

“If I’m going to drop by and see her, I should know who to ask for.”

Okay, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. “I don’t want you to go in there and actually talk to her. Just have a look around and let me know what you think.”

She laughed. “Are you sure it’s just the building you’re after?”

Here we go, he thought. “Just the building. Is that so hard to believe?”

She gazed thoughtfully into the fire. “Coming from you? Mr. Emotionally Unavailable? I guess not. You always date fashionista divas like Vanessa, so the proprietor of a ‘grungy’ blue-collar bar doesn’t fit the mold.”

Ouch. Lexi’s assessment made him sound superficial, but he didn’t see it that way. He had a full life and a busy one, and dating women like Vanessa was easy and uncomplicated because there was no danger of forming any attachments. Along with being a gold digger, she was also a clotheshorse with very expensive tastes. The woman before her had a thing for flashy imports. God, how many times had she gushed about how much she wanted to slap a personalized plate on one? More times than he’d bothered to count. And before her? Ah, yes. The diamonds-are-a-girl’s-best-friend girl.

Lexi was right about one thing, though. He had a consistent track record. One mold, multiple casts. They were easy women to find, and when he asked them out they never said no. He knew better than to fall for them, and especially not to give them everything their little hearts desired. His first serious girlfriend had sweet-talked him into a Lexus and an engagement ring, which had still been on her finger the day she’d driven out of his life. The only thing she’d left behind was a maxed-out credit card.

Jess was uncomfortable in an evening gown, she wore old jeans and high-tops to work and if she’d been wearing any jewelry on either occasion, it hadn’t made an impression on him. If her taste in cars was anything like her taste in wine, she most likely drove an old clunker. She was unpretentious, feisty and far more beautiful than she knew. Based on his experience, one of a kind. After Jess, they’d broken the mold.

He looked away from the fire and met Lexi’s gaze. “When you go into the Whiskey Sour, you’ll be discreet? I’d really appreciate it if you don’t let on who you are or why you’re there.”

“No fear. They’ll call me Bond.” She struck a dramatic pose, head turned to one side and eyes narrowed. “James Bond.”

They both laughed. When he got too intense, he could always count on her to put things back in perspective. “On the plus side, you can order a beer while you’re there,” he quipped. “Who knows, you might even like the place.”

“Ha-ha.” She picked up her glass, angled it in his direction and then drained the last few mouthfuls. “I’m going to turn in. I have to be on the road by seven or I’ll be late getting to the office. What about you?”

“I have another meeting with Ginny in the morning. I’ll take Ben and Poppy for a walk so Mom can have a break, and then I’ll head back after lunch.”

“You’re a good son,” she said with a wink. “No wonder she likes you best.”

He laughed. Sophia Morgan didn’t play favorites and she never had, not even when Lexi’s hormonal teen years had made loving her a challenge. “Good night, Lex. If you see Mom upstairs, you can tell her I’ll lock up.”

“Will do.” Lexi stood and worked the kinks out of her legs. On her way out of the study she circled around the back of his chair and wound her arms around his neck. “Good night, big brother. See you in the morning.” She paused in the doorway. “Sorry for the ‘emotionally unavailable’ remark. You know I wasn’t serious.”

“Yes, you were.” And she was right. He was, but he didn’t see the need to apologize for it.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

After she left, Michael settled back in his chair and stared into the fire as he finished his wine. All day his thoughts had kept drifting to Jess. She captivated him. The women he usually went out with were at least as interested in his money as they were in him. What they didn’t understand was that it wasn’t his money—at least not most of it. It was his family’s money. His grandfather and then his father had devoted their lives and careers to creating Morgan Estate Winery. Building on that was as much an obligation as it was his legacy. He loved the business, and he especially loved the challenge of turning it into a diverse enterprise.

He wasn’t sure how Jess would react when she found out who he was, but he had a hunch she wouldn’t be any more impressed than if he really was on the hotel’s catering staff. Dinner with her was going to be interesting, as was discovering what it would take to convince her to sell the bar. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, but he never backed away from a challenge.

LATE SATURDAY MORNING Jess unlocked the front door of the Whiskey Sour and punched in the code to deactivate the alarm. It was no longer being monitored—that was one of the bills she hadn’t been able to keep up with—but she and Eric, the part-time bartender, were the only people who knew. She tossed her department-store bag onto the bar and switched on the lights, then went into the kitchen and turned on the deep fryer so it would heat up by the time she opened.

Trying on clothes was one of her least favorite ways to spend a Saturday morning, but the shopping expedition had been less painful than expected. She and Paige both loved a good bargain, and her friend had flair without being flamboyant. Now Paige was stopping to buy coffee and muffins and bring them to the bar while Jess got ready to open for the day. She quickly put away the glassware she’d left in the dishwasher the night before, checked the keg room to make sure the lines were clear and primed, and inspected the two restrooms to make sure there were no surprises. Thankfully, there weren’t.

Paige came in juggling an umbrella and a paper bag. She set the bag on the bar and opened her umbrella. “I hope you don’t mind if I set this over here to dry. It’s really coming down out there.”

“No problem.” Jess locked the door and went back to the bar to inspect the contents of the paper bag. “What’d you bring?” Her stomach was rumbling and she couldn’t wait to find out what her friend had brought to eat.

“Two nonfat lattes and a couple of chocolate chip muffins.” Paige immediately looked guilty. “I should be watching my weight, but those muffins are too yummy to pass up.”

Jess took the two paper cups out of the bag and snapped the lid off one of them. “You do not need to watch your weight. You’re only a size twelve, and besides, Andy obviously likes you just the way you are.”

A delicate flush colored Paige’s flawless skin. “I’m not so sure about that…and I’m actually a size fourteen.”

“Fourteen, shmourteen. You are gorgeous and Andy is crazy about you.” She took a sip of coffee. “Mmm. I needed this. How much do I owe you?”

“My treat. You can get them next time.”

“Thanks.” She appreciated Paige’s generosity, especially since she’d just unloaded a sizable chunk of this month’s grocery money at Macy’s. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d given this much thought to what she was going to wear, or spent money that could have been put to better use. Her guilt was compounded by memories of her mother shopping for slinky clothes to wear when she went to the bar trolling for men. Damn it, this is not the same thing. You are not your mother, she told herself.