Chapter 11 #2
“I am. Did you bring in those samples for me to try?”
His mouth quirks into a crooked smile. “You got a thing for drinking in the morning?”
“We’ll do it this afternoon,” I say, straightening. “And we’ll include a few other people.”
I can ask Sophie and Hannah to join me after lunch. Maybe Nora, if everything goes well. It’ll be easier for Liam and me to spend time together with other people around. Less…intimate.
He runs a hand over his stubble, and I notice his knuckles are chafed. My gaze flits to his face, and I notice a small bruise on his cheekbone.
Has he been at the gym? Did he get that while sparring with someone?
The thought pisses me off, because he said he would take me back to the gym, and now I know he never will. Maybe this is unfair, but it feels like another promise made to me by someone whose word is as solid as piecrust.
“Shouldn’t be a group decision,” he says, leaning back against the wall.
“I’ll decide how to run my brewery, thank you very much.”
His smile spreads wider, which pisses me off enough that I get to my feet.
“Am I dismissed?” he asks, his eyes dancing with mirth.
“Is everything a joke to you?” What I mean…what I can’t say, because I couldn’t handle the answer is—
Am I a joke to you?
He gives me a cryptic look. “Sure. It’s better to laugh if you can. I’ll grab the beer samples when I’m out.”
I’m about to walk off, frustration and annoyance simmering in my blood, when I remember Hannah’s suggestion about Garbage Fire playing at the New Year’s party.
I tell Liam, and he nods once. “She already checked with Travis, and they’re up for it. Cormac’s officially joining as the bassist.”
“Is he good?”
He tips his head. “Very. Way better than that shithead they had before.”
“That’s great. Yeah, that guy always seemed kind of shifty.”
“Shifty, huh?” he asks, his lips curling in amusement.
He’s amused by me, obviously, not with me.
Maybe he’ll talk about me behind my back, just like he did with Frodo. Oh, that Briar is totally pathetic. I made the mistake of being nice to her, and she practically threw herself at me.
I lift my chin. “Yes, shifty. He stared a lot.”
“Well, of course he stared at you.”
My cheeks heat. “What do you mean by that?”
He gives me a wry look, like, you can’t not know what I’m talking about, Princess.
His hands are buried in his pockets, so his arms aren’t flexed, but his biceps still look thick and muscular, like they’re straining the limits of his shirt.
My eyes keep settling on them, as if to say, People can’t stop looking at you either. My fingers want to dance over them.
Finally, he shrugs. “You said your parents aren’t the kind of people others like. But you are. And you’re definitely the kind they like to look at.”
The heat from my cheeks spreads through my body, and I shove down the urge to fan myself. I have no idea what to say. He’s the one who wanted to keep things professional, and here he is talking about how I look.
I swallow, then say, “You won’t be able to play with the band at the party. I’ll need you to introduce the beer.”
He leans back, getting comfortable. Really settling in against that wall. I feel my muscles twitch in annoyance.
I remind myself that I have no reason to be upset with him. He never promised to be my friend, my confidant. He only said he’d help me, and he has.
“Won’t be a problem, boss,” he drawls. “I’m not in the band anymore.”
“Did you quit this time, or did you trick them into firing you too?”
He grins. “Too many loose ends. I quit after finding someone to take my spot. My friend Mick, who owns Bell’s. You know…Ring Your Bell Boxing Gym.”
Part of me wonders if that’s what he’s planning to do here. Get me going and then find someone else who’ll be willing to step in. But I don’t ask.
“All right. Well…”
“Am I dismissed?” he asks with a twinkle in his eye.
That twinkle makes me want to shove him. Instead, I stand taller, calling on every last etiquette lesson my mother forced me to take, and say, “Yes.”
A few hours later, I’m standing outside of Tea of Fortune with Sophie and Hannah. We arranged to meet ahead of time because Hannah seemed to consider it essential for us to present a united front for Nora.
Now, though…
“Don’t you think Nora will be overwhelmed if we descend on her like a bunch of vultures?” I ask, idly rubbing a lock of hair between my fingers. “She’ll probably try to escape out the back door.”
“Ha!” Hannah says. “Then she’ll find out the hard way there is no back door.”
“Isn’t there?” Sophie asks with a frown as a man dressed like a clown pushes past her.
I’ve learned not to look twice. There’s a comedic bus tour, Lazoom, with daily runs through town.
They plant costumed people along their route–nuns on bicycles, clowns like this one, you name it.
“If there isn’t, we should talk to Dottie about it.
It would be a major fire code violation. ”
“Of course there’s a back door,” I say. “It’s through the kitchen. But, seriously, I don’t want to freak Nora out.”
“Well, I’m going in,” Hannah says, and since I don’t actually want to stand out here in the cold, I follow her. Sophie too.
The second we enter the tea shop, Dottie hurries toward us from her seat at the table closest to the door.
She was sitting across from a woman with short, tidy dark hair, red lipstick, and hazel eyes, dressed in a blazer over a black sweater and jeans.
Nora. I’ve seen her a couple of times from a distance.
She’s also easily recognizable from all the local articles about The Ginger Station.
Last night, Hannah sent a fresh batch—research, she called it.
Nora started The Ginger Station with her business partner, José Perez. They’re each half owners; she brews the ginger beer, and he runs the business end of things. The opposite of Liam and me, I can’t help but think.
She stays seated, looking uncomfortable but determined.
“She’s here,” Dottie says in an undertone that everyone in the continental United States probably heard.
“It’s okay,” Nora says in a low, amused voice. “I know I’m here. I don’t think that’s the kind of thing we need to keep to ourselves.”
“Of course not.” Dottie clasps her hands together, smiling so wide it probably hurts. She looks like a child who’s just tried cotton candy for the first time. “It’s just such a joyous occasion to have all of you girls here, together at last.”
We settle in around the table. Dottie refuses to sit back down, saying she wants the “full experience” of the tea shop today because she’ll be away for a while, so I take her seat, across from Nora.
Hannah is in the chair next to mine, and Sophie is beside Nora.
The chairs are all charmingly mismatched—mine has a bouquet of roses on the upholstery.
Quiet descends on the table. Hannah, of course, is the first to break it. “So, Travis saw Jonah a few weeks ago, and apparently he took up smoking.”
“Good,” Nora says wryly.
“I was hoping he’d get gangrene of the dick,” Hannah continues, “but I’ll settle for karma smacking him with lung cancer.”
Nora smiles. “Mom told me you were…colorful.”
“Hannah’s perfect,” I say tightly. Maybe because “colorful” is the sort of thing Liam would say with a knowing grin.
“I meant it in a good way,” Nora says before focusing on Hannah. “I’m grateful to you.” Then she glances around at the rest of us. “So. You’re probably wondering what my deal is.”
“Oh, we want to know everything about you,” Hannah says.
“Seriously, everything. I especially want to know what it was like growing up with Mrs. Applebaum as your mother. Was she strict? Or is she, like, this secret softie? I have visions of her being a secret softie like Eugene. I swear, that man has never met a shade of beige he didn’t like, but his soul is definitely maroon. ”
Nora’s smile stretches wider. “Maroon. I like that. I like him too. Mom has a good heart, but she was strict. Had to be. My dad was hardly ever around.”
She runs her finger gently over the rim of her teacup before continuing.
“I feel like I owe you all an explanation. It’s not easy for me to discuss personal stuff, but given the circumstances…
” She shrugs and gives her attention to Sophie.
“I need you to know I had no idea that Jonah was engaged. None. And when you texted me saying you were his fiancée, I believed you were someone else. Someone who’d been messing with me. ”
“Tell me more,” Hannah says, leaning forward enough that the wood table scoots a fourth of an inch closer to Nora and Sophie.
“Okay.” Nora blows out a breath. “Here goes. I’m not sure if you know this, but I started The Ginger Station with my friend—”
“José,” Hannah interjects.
Nora’s lips part a moment before she says anything. “Did my mother happen to tell you about him? She’s not his biggest fan.”
“No.” Hannah waves a hand. “We did a deep dive on you.”
Sophie laughs and shakes her head. “That makes it sound like we hired a private investigator. We just read a few articles about the brewery.”
Nora nods. “Okay. Well. José and I used to be…together.” She lifts a hand. “Briefly. We tried it for a few months, decided we were better as friends, and broke up a year and a half ago.”
“And you still run the brewery together?” I ask, my heart speeding up. Because surely, if I needed another message from the universe that it would be utterly insane to think about kissing Liam, this is it.
“Yes.” She tucks her hair behind her ears. “But it’s okay. Really. José’s still my best friend. We just…get each other. There wasn’t any awkwardness.”
“Until he met someone else,” Hannah guesses.
Nora takes a sip of tea. “That obvious, huh?”
“And she was sending you threatening texts?” I guess.
“I’d gotten a few of them before I heard from Sophie,” she says.
“They were sent in the middle of the night, from an unknown number. Things like stay away, and I know you’re a slut.
Creative, right? Jonah knew about the messages, so he knew exactly what to say after you exposed him as a cheater.
Obviously I feel like an idiot now. What’s worse is that I showed José the anonymous messages. ”
Hannah whistles.
“Yeah,” Nora says with a low laugh. “You can imagine how well that went down. He didn’t believe his dear, sweet girlfriend would ever do something like that. He blamed Jonah and said he didn’t want Jonah coming around the brewery anymore. As if he suddenly got to decide. He was acting almost…”
“Jealous,” Hannah finishes.
Nora shrugs. “Yeah. Although he’s the one who’s so in love, so maybe he was only being territorial.
We had this big fight about it, since his girlfriend basically lives at The Ginger Station.
Anyway. After that, I met Dottie, who confirmed Jonah was a sleazy asshole, although not in those words, and here we are.
I’m sorry. I fucked up. I should have admitted it months ago, but I was embarrassed.
I meant what I said. I’ll do anything I can to help you.
All of you.” Her gaze settles on me. “Hannah told me a little about your brewery.”
“Yes, it’s a disaster,” I say, letting the most intrusive thought in my mind escape without a fight. I tell her about the mass walkout and my plan for redemption.
She listens, nodding in the right places, and then says, “It’s a good plan. If—”
She bites her lip as if to cut herself off.
“If it works,” I say, my voice quavering.
“If it works,” she agrees. “Which means you need a plan B in case it doesn’t. Always have a plan B.”
Dottie, who’s been gone for a suspiciously long time, returns at this mention of a plan B. “Have you finished your tea?” she asks sweetly, even though Nora’s the only one who has drunk any.
“She’s going to want to read your tea leaves,” Hannah warns. “But she doesn’t need to. I can tell you right now what she’s going to say. You’re going to fall in love, and it’s going to be so amazing, and your whole life is going to change forever and ever.”
Dottie smiles at her with a twinkle in her light-blue eyes. “And didn’t it, my dear?”
Hannah barks out a laugh. “You know what, she has a point. If I were you, I’d hand over the teacup.”
Nora smiles at them both but shakes her head. “No, thanks. I’d like to keep the future a mystery. If it’s all the same to you.”
“It’s not,” Hannah says. “She’s not going to give up.”
“Then we’re at a stalemate,” Nora says. “Because I don’t know how to give up either.”