I’d dreamed of capitalizing on my family’s double lot with over two hundred feet of frontage on Dragonfly Lake. Until the past couple of years, though, my focus hadn’t been spectacular. I’d had my hands full with managing the front of house for Henry’s plus my social life. Yeah, it sounds shallow and stupid now, but I was busy enjoying my twenties. It wasn’t until my grandmother died, leaving the restaurant to my brothers and me—and Hayden if she’d wanted it—that we went all in on the remodeling, revamping, re-everything of Henry’s.

I still had a lot going on socially, but I liked to think I’d stepped it up and taken on a lot more responsibility as well. I just wasn’t sure I’d convinced my business partner brothers of that. Maybe I never would.

“I’ll keep you two apprised of everything I learn from Darius,” Seth said, as if that could appease me.

I wasn’t appeased, but I was out of arguments for the day.

“Anything else?” I asked.

“That’s all I’ve got,” Seth said.

“I’ve got a chowder to check on,” Cash said as he shoved back from the table and stood, then sauntered off.

I headed toward the bar, which I’d had my back to during the meeting, facing, instead, the view of the lake. When I went from the dining area to the bar, the scowl on my face eased as I did a double take of the woman sitting at the bar on the far stool, closest to the main door.

Her profile was to me, her head buried in her phone, hair cascading down to block her face, but I’d know those glossy coffee-brown locks anywhere.

I went toward her. “Chloe?”

Sure enough, her head popped up and she shot me a halfhearted smile as she sat up straighter. She was dressed in tailored business clothes and looked like the badass competent woman she was, except… there was something off. Like she was nervous maybe. She glanced my way but not at me.

Whenever Chloe was uneasy, it made me wary and ready to handle whatever had her off-kilter. Small towns didn’t tend to be kind to the janitor’s daughter, and she’d taken more than her share of shunning and bullying and being treated as less than. I’d gotten into more than one fistfight in high school on her behalf, and eventually the guys got the message that she was off-limits. A few of the girls, though… High school girls could be something else.

I glanced around for the source of her uneasiness, but there was no one else in the bar.

Once I was behind the counter, facing her directly, I raised my brows in question, unable to tamp down on a big, welcoming grin.