Justin Kiriakis takes his wife's hand as they stroll through the square. He knows they're going to the Brady Pub, looking to sneak another look at Will Horton.
"You realize, Adrienne, that this is borderline stalking and spying, right?"
"So?"
Justin has to laugh. After 31 years of being married, the woman can still make him laugh. He thinks that, above all else, is a sign you've found the one you're meant to be with.
"So you get he might not even be here? Just because you own a bar, doesn't mean you're always there."
"So we'll get a good look at the pub, and have a beer. Perfectly up front and reasonable."
"Of course."
Only time he ever says it like that is when he's pulling her leg. Adrienne seriously considers elbowing him hard, or laughing. She decides on both.
The crowds, the noise, and heat and somehow the understated elegance of the town weren't really things that appeal to her for more than a brief visit. She'll take the industrial charm, and of course the dignity, of Chicago anyday.
Of course Chicago has it's seedier side, but it's not so in your face about it. Sex is supposed to be fun and exciting--she's not a prude. But it's also supposed to be kept behind closed doors.
And still, the sound of sad music reaches deep down inside her.
If her son's determined to take up permanent residence here, she'll just have to come around. Maybe, with more time to observe and argue, she'll come around accepting the man of her son's affections.
"You'll have more than enough time to grill him at tomorrow's wedding." Justin points out.
Adrienne only sighs. They really think it's that easy. Pathetic, really. First step, clearly, is to observe the man in his own element.
She considers the neighborhood, where the bar's set up, the foot traffic, before deciding Will's choice had been a good one, and he had enough taste and sense to let the bar's exterior blend into its surroundings.
She likes the sign hanging outside, with the green circle and gold lettering. It demonstrates the pub's style, an appreciation for the original owners.
She'd managed to get out of Sonny that Will lives above the bar, and briefly wonders if there's a way she could work out a visit upstairs to snoop.
She steps inside Brady's, and gives it a long, objective look.
It's clean, which she definitely approves of. It's crowded, but not at full capacity, which prompts her business sense to come out. Too early for the night owls, she judges, too late for the afternooners.
The music coming out of the speakers is instrumental, she supposes, and she approves that as well. It's lively enough, but not too much to where people can't hear each other.
A black man in a white shirt is currently working behind the bar. Friendly face, she decides, smooth hands. A young waitress--dark haired, perky, wearing jeans that are potentially a size too tight--serves a table.
Adrienne spots what she assumes are a group of tourists from their cameras and shopping bags. Others she can safely assume are locals.
Whatever food is being served or had been, leaves a slightly spicy aroma in the air.
Will steps out of the kitchen. They lock eyes immediately, instantly recognizing each other. Arienne's lips curve in a small polite smile as she walks to the bar, Justin following behind.
"Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Kiriakis." An equally small and polite smile forms on Will's lips. "Just been walking through the square?" he asks with a glance at the bags Justin is carrying.
"Very rarely does Adrienne pass a store without finding something she has to buy."
"Now I know where Sonny gets it. Can I get you a menu?"
"We've already eaten, but thank you." Adrienne sits on a stool. "I will take a martini. Lemon drop, stirred, not shaken. Absolut, no sugar."
"And for you, Mr. Kiriakis?"
"Same for me, and it's just Justin." He takes the seat beside his wife. "You have a really nice place here. Ever have live music?" he asks, gesturing to the small stage area.
"Every other night at 10." As he starts to make the drinks, Will gives Jusin a real smile. "If you like dancing, you should come back. It's definitely music to move your feet to. You enjoying yourself so far?"
"We're really looking forward to the wedding." Adrienne comments. "Chad's practically family. And we couldn't be prouder to see Sonny making so much progress on the house."
"He's really happy there."
"Yes, he is."
Will takes two martini glasses he'd chilled while mixing. "Be so much easier on you if he could be happy in Chicago--and with the guy that broke up with him."
"Yes, it would. But we can't dictate everyone's lives, especially not our children's. Just like you can't pick who they're in love with. Are you in love with my son, Will?"
Hands completely steady, Will strains the martinis into the cold glasses. "That's something I need to talk to him about, when I'm good and ready. And these are on the house." she adds, sliding in the olives. "Hope they live up to your standards."
"Thank you." Adrienne picks up her glass, sipping it. Raises an eyebrow. "It's delicious. Always said the perfect drink is an art form, and more often than not I've been surprised and disappointed by how many bar, restaurant, or club owners don't know how to make or serve a perfect martini.
"Why do it at all if you don't plan to get it right?"
"Exactly. It's pride. In yourself, in your work, in your life. You can have flaws, they're even necessary to the human experience. But serving a guest or customer lest than the best you're humanly capable, is arrogant or sloppy. Or both, as is usually the case.
"Nothing worth doing is worth doing half assed." Will says, filling a bowl with pretzels. "If I can't make a martini, that's fine, I just step back and learn how to do it the right way. If I don't I disappoint myself as well as whoever is counting on me to know the right way."
"Good policy to have." Justin sips his own drink. "Without high standards, we settle for less than what will make us really happy and productive, and sell the people that matter to us short."
"When someone matters to me--and I'm very selective about who--I want nothing but the best for them. They may be willing to settle for anything they can get. But I'm not."
When Justin leans over, looking closely at Adrienne's martini, she frowns. "What are you up to?"
"Trying to figure out how different mine is from yours."
That makes Will laugh, making him relax his shoulders. "He's so much like you two, isn't he? Has his mom's eyes. Sees right through everyone, especially when you don't want him to. Loves the heck out of both of you, and that is very telling to me. So I have something to tell both of you."
Will leans closer. "I'm a very plain person. Strong, but still plain. My stepmother is dead weight, and is only an embarrassment I wish more than anything I could just forget about. But my grandfather was the most wonderful man. My grandma Marlena's better than most. I run my family's pub because I'm good at it--and I like it--and I don't give things I don't like the time of day."
Will messes with his hair, keeping his gaze with Adrienne's. "I'm selfish and downright headstrong, and I really don't see anything wrong with that. I'm not after his money, or yours, so let's just drop that altogether. He's the most wonderful, caring man I've ever met in my life, and I already know I'm not good enough for him. I say that knowing I'm not good enough for anybody, but it's different with him. Under that good-natured exterior, your son is even more headstrong than me, and I'm still trying to figure out what I'm supposed to do about that. But once I do, I'm telling him first. I'm sure he'll tell you the minute he knows as well."
"Now, then." Unconsciously, Will messes with the key around his neck. "Can I get you another drink?"
"We're still working on these for the moment." Adrienne tells him.
"Excuse me for a moment, then. I have another order to fill." Will moves down the bar to where his waitress is waiting with an empty tray.
"Well?" Justin asks. "He put you in your place, didn't he?"
"Indeed." Satisfied, Adrienne takes another sip. "He'll do just fine."
