Chapter 2
“I hope it isn’t too late to call, Thom.
Unless you or the rest of the guys have an objection, I’d like to spend tomorrow morning at Cask I won’t get an opportunity to talk to him directly today, but maybe you can tell him for me that I should have the final concept proposal done by the end of the week.
He can call me when he’s ready to see it. ”
Jack’s unsmiling eyes caught Brooke’s gray ones.
“Though still a rare occurrence, it’s becoming more common for small beer brewers in this country to form partnerships with investors who have nothing to do with brewing.
The Reflex Rebranding Group has its fingers in several different pies as a result, so we all keep some very unconventional hours.
” The smile that appeared next felt a bit chilling.
“Although this is one of our initial forays into the craft brewing space, I very much doubt it will be our last.”
Ignoring her screaming gut, Brooke made herself shrug casually.
“I fell into the microbrewery industry quite by accident when I crafted a few custom beer taps for some friends of mine while I was in college and working in their tiny taproom. Lucky for me, it worked out great since graphic art design for microbreweries certainly hadn’t been on my radar.
As a woman who isn’t too interested in doing anything beyond that now—I have more than a few projects to juggle with my own firm—I’ll leave all that crazy business stuff to you and stick to my art. ”
She picked up her portfolio from the bar. “Let me get to what I need to do so I can get out of your hair. Gene, give Sandy my best wishes, okay? Jack, good to see you.” She nodded at the two men before moving further down the bar and opening her portfolio.
What the hell does he mean, they have their fingers in several different pies?
I know they’re involved with several other microbreweries in the area, but it sounds like they haven’t been playing in the craft beer space for long, from what Jack said.
What else have they been involved in then, and where?
Who ARE they? She growled under her breath.
Too many damn questions, not enough answers.
Forcing herself to compare her concept art drawings with the microbrewery set-up around her while her mind raced, Brooke knew as well as she knew her last name that she wasn’t going to see a dime from this job.
Those four jackass thieves had no intention of paying her one red cent.
If she were smart, she’d break her contract and walk away—but the Reflex Rebranding Group would smear her good name in revenge, letting it be known that Brooke was the type of person who wouldn’t honor a signed contract.
Neither her reputation nor her future business prospects would survive that kind of hit since there was no proof Thom Geralt and his partners had done anything illegal.
Fuck.
Plus, there was the matter of Gene and Sandy Wheeler to consider.
At this stage of the game, because she had nothing more than her suspicions to go on, she couldn’t go to Eugene to tell him what she thought the Reflex Rebranding Group was up to.
Right now, Gene regarded the four men as white knights who had ridden in to save him and his failing business.
There was no way he would believe her at the moment.
The thought that they planned to steal everything from him and crush his microbrewery to smithereens would be unfathomable to him.
What Brooke couldn’t do was walk away, knowing the Wheelers stood to lose everything if she did.
Although she hadn’t felt any sense of urgency from Eugene’s new partners—making her reasonably certain this wasn’t a smash-and-grab operation—she wondered if that was because of the other microbreweries they also had in their crosshairs at the same time.
Perhaps they didn’t want to raise suspicion by moving too fast. Besides, they would have to make sure their timing was perfect, so they could grab all the money and assets from the microbreweries they were exploiting at the exact same time before disappearing for good.
Two hours later, no closer to a solution or a plan, Brooke packed up her portfolio and headed for the door, waving goodbye to Eugene.
Jack was nowhere in sight, so she figured he had vanished back into the office.
As she got into her car, her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she had eaten nothing but a piece of toast that morning.
Deciding she would run back home to change her clothes, then go out to get something substantial to eat—her cupboards were fairly bare as usual, since she didn’t cook—she headed back to Whimsy, thankful she had missed the worst of the morning rush hour traffic on I-275.
Arriving at her small duplex, she let herself in and dumped everything on her artist table, then went into her tiny bedroom to change into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.
Although Brooke hadn’t admitted it to anyone, being in her duplex by herself still stirred her nerves a bit, considering she and Lulu Emerson had almost been kidnapped from here by The Candyman’s thugs not that long before.
Giving herself a mental shake, telling her mind not to be silly and that she was safe, Brooke threw on a light hoodie, slid her phone into her purse, and grabbed her keys before going out her front door, shutting and locking it firmly behind her before testing the door numerous times to make sure it was secured.
As she turned to walk down her few front steps, however, Brooke froze in surprise when she saw Blake Seibert striding up the walkway, determination on her face.