8. Chapter 8
eight
“ H ave you heard anything?”
Max looked up from the bench where he was lacing up his skates. It was Thursday night, hockey night with his friends, and he needed badly to hit something.
“Not yet, but her deadline is looming.”
Adam laughed. “I can’t believe you gave her two days.”
“I’m not fucking around with this. We need a brewer. Now. Yesterday—”
Max’s phone rang from the pocket of his hockey bag next to him. He pulled his laces tight, grabbed the phone, and checked the number.
“It’s her,” he said.
“I’m gonna leave you alone to answer that,” Adam said, then skated off.
Max stabbed the button. “Hi.”
“Hi, Max?” Willow’s voice came through soft, distant.
That was weird.
“Are you . . . whispering?” he asked.
“No,” she whispered.
He rolled his eyes. “Why?”
“I said I’m not whispering.”
“I know a whisper when I hear it.”
“Well, if you can hear it, then it must not be a whisper,” she said, getting more ruffled.
“Now you’re whisper-screaming.”
She huffed out an annoyed breath. “Are you always so—”
“Perceptive?”
“We’re just wasting time with all this back and forth.”
“If you just told me why you’re whispering, we could have avoided all this.”
Willow let out a noise that landed somewhere between a growl and a hiss, and Max’s smile doubled. Something about pissing her off brought him great joy. Probably because she was making his life hell by refusing to take the job as it was offered. She deserved some comeuppance. And he was all too happy to deliver it .
He caught two figures standing still in his peripheral vision and turned to find Adam and Ethan staring at him, smirks on their faces.
He glared back and fixed his face, wondering how he kept getting caught enjoying himself every time he was on the phone with her.
He stood and turned his back to them. “Why are you being so cagey?”
She sucked in a breath. “I’m not, and it’s none of your business.”
None of his business? It was a completely valid question. Why the hell was she whispering? He checked the time. Eight o’clock at night. What were the chances she was at her other job and her boss was within earshot?
Not that great.
Before he could press and ask more questions, her whisper filled his ear.
“I’m in,” she said.
Max’s brows shot up. “You are?”
“Yes.”
His stomach dropped out as his mind released the pressure it had been under all day. He thought he might throw up. Or sag against the wall. Or jump out of his skin at the thought of seeing her again .
He was annoyed that she was clearly keeping this a secret from someone. And keeping him in the dark about the secret.
Did it really matter, though? Probably not. His problems with the brewery were solved, at least temporarily. Even if she turned out to be completely unhinged, she could make good beer, and she’d only be there for a short time.
He sucked in a breath, and his lungs filled a little easier than the last few days.
“Good. I’ll have Adam email you the details. You’ll have to sort out financing on your end, and I’ll see you here in about . . . a week? We’re on a pretty tight schedule.”
“Fine,” she whispered. “Talk soon.”
The call went dead, and he started shaking his head. He dropped the phone into his bag, grabbed his stick, and turned to find his entire team staring at him.
“We’ve got a brewer.”
“Willow’s in?!” Adam yelled, his smirk becoming a smile.
Max nodded.
“Thank God!”
“Yeah,” he said with a frown, still not sure how to feel. She was too shifty and hard to read. “I want a clause in the contract that if she bails, the agreement will be null and voided.”
Adam considered Max’s words, a furrow forming on his brow.
“And,” Max said, without waiting, “if she decides she wants to sell down the road, a third party assessor will fairly evaluate the brewery, and she’ll sell it back to me for that price.”
Adam’s brows shoot up. “Anything else?”
“If I think of something, I’ll let you know.”
“Are you sure you’re going to give her control over this?”
Max shook his head. “No,” he said, then stepped onto the ice and skated off without another word.
He needed the game to start so he could hit the puck and blow off some steam. There was no point in dwelling on Willow anymore. He’d just have to wait until she got there and got to work before he could tell whether this partnership was a good idea or the worst decision he’d ever made.