Chapter 19 #2
I hand one of them to Don, who’s chuckling. He wags a finger at me. “I heard you were trouble.”
“Glad Briar speaks so fondly of me.” I let myself admire her as she takes a long sip of her beer.
“Not from Briar,” Don says dismissively in a way that instantly raises my hackles.
“Briar’s bleeding heart always gets her into trouble.
” He flicks a finger at the recipe for success.
“Look beyond others’ feelings. She can’t.
Bleeding heart, like I said. But I can. So I asked around about you, sure.
It’s a man’s right to look out for his family.
” He has a gotcha smirk on his face when he says, “I heard about the fight at Mountain Morning.”
“It’s not exactly a secret, and I wouldn’t call it a fight. The only injury I had was to my knuckles, so I guess you’d say it was more of a beatdown. But you don’t need to worry about that. I graduated from anger management. They even gave me a silver star.”
Briar coughs, suppressing a laugh, and I grin at her before focusing on Don.
He runs a hand across his smooth jaw. “I also heard you got fired from Big Catch.”
“Aw, but that was a misunderstanding. I had every intention of quitting. My boss beat me to it.”
He narrows his eyes at Briar. “John says you’ve hired other people.”
“I have.” She straightens her back.
“And do they have checkered work histories?”
I snort. “Maybe so. From my understanding, the majority of them were recruited off dating apps.”
“Dating apps?” he sputters, his face reddening. He thinks I’m screwing with him but doesn’t understand how.
“Sure. Who else would have been available in the time frame you gave her?”
“We’ve been open since Monday,” Briar says, ignoring me.
“Pretty incredible, don’t you think?” I ask her shithead father. “Not many people could manage a thing like that. I’m surprised you haven’t stopped by.”
“I’ll be sure to put in an appearance after the holidays,” he replies with a wolfish smile. No doubt he’ll put together a whole smorgasbord of complaints to bring up at these enjoyable dinners.
“We’re only pouring Bubba’s beer right now,” I say, “so you might want to wait until our big party if you’re looking for something different.”
“You’re trying to put out a new beer by New Year’s?” he asks with interest.
“It was your daughter’s idea. She’s got a helluva lot of good ones. You must think so too if you made the whole brewery organic on her say-so.”
Don’s expression sharpens, and I know—I fucking know—this asshole was in on the grift.
“Did you know Bubba wasn’t using organic ingredients, Dad?” Briar asks directly, her face pale but determined.
She’s not mine to be proud of, but I am proud.
Before he can answer, Alicia power-walks back into the dining room, a bottle opener in each hand, followed by a woman carrying white wine in a wine chiller.
Alicia’s lips tremble when she sees the other open beers. “Oh dear.”
“Would you like one too?” I ask, grabbing another beer from the holder.
“No.” She gives a sharp nod to the woman with the wine, then shoves the bottle openers at her. “We’ll all have wine,” she says imperiously. “And you can bring out the salad course.”
Within thirty seconds, she has an overfull glass of white in front of her.
Don, who has been holding Briar’s gaze this whole time, finally says, “Well, I don’t have the first clue what you’re talking about, Briar. We told Bubba to brew them organic, so I assume that’s what he did. Bubba’s a man who can take instruction.”
“Yeah, I’ll just bet he is,” I put in as the rest of us are served wine I definitely don’t want. “And I’ve got no problem taking her instructions.”
“Oh, no more business talk,” Alicia says, waving around her wine glass after taking a swig that roughly halved the liquid. “I’m sick to death of hearing about that brewery. I thought we were finally done with it. It was my least favorite of all your businesses.”
I let myself laugh. “Really, I figured it would have been the gummy candy shaped like tits.”
She gasps, and the server hurries away.
Don, however, smiles. “Touché. Well, no worries, honey. The brewery is Briar’s problem now.”
He takes the first sip of his beer, and then his gaze narrows on me. “You made this, son?”
“I did.”
He glances at Briar, sitting under that self-indulgent sign, her expression strained, and nods. “Good work.”
I nearly laugh, because he’s talking about me, in front of me, as if I’m some bargain-basement find. But the hopeful look on her face stops me.
I’m destroyed by the realization that she still wants this asshole’s praise.
“Well, I, for one, would much rather talk about pleasant things,” Alicia says, and takes another long sip from her wine glass. “What are you doing for the holidays, Liam?”
It feels plenty natural to smile. “Making beer.”
The server returns with a tray of salads, which she passes out, and a short, blessed period of silence follows while everyone embraces the excuse of eating to shut the fuck up.
Then Alicia leads a shallow conversation about the holiday events around Asheville, which isn’t particularly interesting, given I don’t plan on attending any of them.
My eyes keep straying to Briar.
She doesn’t like being here, but I don’t think it’s just that contract she signed that keeps her coming back. She still wants approval from these people, and I know in my gut she’s never going to get it. Because if they ever gave it to her, she’d have no reason to come back.
As we’re finishing up the main course, the buzzer for the gate rings, and Alicia perks up. “That must be Melly.”
Briar takes another sip of her beer. “By all means, we wouldn’t want to keep Melly waiting.”