Autumn Night Whiskey (Tequila Rose Book 2)

by Willow Winters

  I’m saved by another chime. It’s insane how much relief I feel at expecting Martin, who I could easily use as an excuse to end this little meet and greet … but again, a different someone is standing in the doorway.

  Renee smiles like the cat that ate the canary. There’s far too much joy in her eyes at the sight of my predicament.

  “Well … hey now,” she says and somehow smiles even wider, “I didn’t know there was a party going on.”

  As the two men look at her, I mouth “help me” and give my bestie a pleading look.

  “Hey Renee,” Robert greets her, slipping his hands into his pockets. A little bit of life seems drained from him as he takes a step back to form a loose circle among the four of us. His gaze meets mine and the hint of a smile doesn’t reach his eyes. Whatever he came in here for is long gone.

  “Where’s Griffin?” Renee asks Brody.

  Brody motions over his shoulder with his thumb and says, “He’s just down the street if you want to swing by.” He glances back at me with an asymmetric smile, obviously adding an invitation for me to join as well, “We’re doing a few taste tests today, and I wanted to invite you for lunch if you’re free?”

  Robert’s silent and my heart drops when Renee carries on with Brody, both of them excluding Robert. A new kind of tension takes over. It’s just not a good feeling. It’s a heaviness in my heart for him.

  “Are you guys looking for bartenders for Saturday and the after-party?” Renee asks Brody. I was wondering if she was going to apply at their bar or not. There’s something going on between her and Griffin so I’m not so sure it’s a good idea, but she hasn’t asked me for my opinion, so I’ve kept my mouth shut.

  “Yeah, I think so,” Brody answers and unexpectedly he turns his attention to the other man in the room.

  “You coming, Robert?” Brody questions in a friendly way and a hint of hope lights inside of me.

  With his brow raised slightly, Robert lets a second pass before responding, “Depends on if I’m invited.”

  It’s not until Brody answers “Sure,” that I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

  “I came by to see if you wanted to do lunch,” Renee says, breaking up the uneasy moment. “If you gentlemen don’t mind me stealing Magnolia for a bit.”

  The chime goes off and I’m nearly scared to look and see who it is that has joined this gathering. Martin’s voice is heard before he comes into view. “You weren’t joking that the front was becoming a warehouse, were you?” The elderly gentleman’s donned his everyday overalls and brown work boots. He barely wears anything else.

  “Morning, Martin.” Robert greets him with a smile.

  “Nearly noon now. How’s your day going?” Once the question leaves him, Martin steps forward and both Brody and Renee come into view for him, previously obstructed by the stacks of boxes.

  The old man can’t hide his shock judging by his raised brow and the tilt of his head that forces the glasses to slip down his nose just slightly. “Well now, I hope you all aren’t here for these boxes.” There’s a slight hint of humor in his tone, but more than that, he sounds concerned as he glances toward me. My cheeks flare with heat at the realization that he’s certainly heard the rumors. I’m sure a handful of those rumors are true too.

  “Hi Martin, I’m Brody.” His outstretched hand is met by Martin’s. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Same to you.” I don’t know why, but the seemingly innocent interaction makes me nervous. Like there’s a whole lot riding on such a simple thing as an introduction.

  “Apparently Mags is a popular lady,” Renee jokes lightheartedly. “We were just gathering her for lunch. Do you want us to bring anything back?”

  She doesn’t tell him where we’re headed. No doubt Charlie’s Bar and Grill since it’s only a five-minute walk from here.

  “Just ate,” he responds with a shake of his head.

  I’m quick to bring back professionalism, offering to help, but Martin cuts me off. Thank goodness. My arms are already sore from the handful of boxes I’ve gathered myself and organized in the back.

  “Don’t worry about the boxes, I’ve got them. You want them any certain way?”

  “Just in the back for now, please.”

  “You need help?” Robert offers. There’s not a smile in sight and that now far too familiar ache comes back. I can’t deny it hurts seeing him like this, and I don’t know if it’s hitting him harder since I denied his proposal or if it’s all in my head.

  Martin refuses. “Nope. Don’t take my only workout away from me, son.”

  “All right then.” Robert nods and takes his leave. “You guys have a good time. I’m going to head out.”

  “Did you need something?” I ask him in front of the audience; I know darn well he didn’t just stop by. There’s always a reason, and he was going to say something before Brody joined us.

  He gives me a tight smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll talk to you about it another time?”

  “Yeah, okay.” My heart sinks slowly but assuredly as he leaves the gallery, the chime bidding him a farewell.

  “We’re still on for tonight?” Brody asks the moment Robert is gone and the air is different between us. The heaviness of everything takes its toll on my heart as it skips in my chest, bucking against the reins holding it back.

  “Yeah,” I answer him and thankfully Renee takes over, asking about Saturday once again.

  Magnolia

  There’s a saying about not being able to have your cake and eat it too. It keeps coming to mind when I think about Brody and Robert, but it’s not serious enough. It’s not cake, it’s my best friend. It’s not some delicious treat, it’s the father of my baby girl.

  Maybe there’s a different version for more serious affairs but if there is, I haven’t heard it. Perhaps a single sentence is just not good enough for matters that destroy the heart.

  The sight of the six chocolate cupcakes I bought from Melissa’s Sweets brings the saying to the forefront of my thoughts once again. But you can have half a dozen cupcakes on the kitchen counter and eat some while still having some left over. Did anyone make a saying about that?

  “I think I’ve had too much coffee.” The comment leaves me without my conscious consent at the ridiculous thought as I stare down at my hand that’s shaking gently before grabbing it with the other.

  “Why?” Renee’s tone is upbeat and accompanied by the purr of the stuffed kitten in Bridget’s hand. The pink plush animal, dubbed “Kitty,” is always within a foot of my little girl. That toy and Bridget’s knitted cream blanket that’s seen better days are the two items in the house I have multiples of … just in case she ever loses them. I’m certain she’d know the difference if that day comes again — it only happened once when she was two — but I have the best excuse already prepared: they took a bath without you, and now they’re all fresh and clean.

  Cat noises interrupt our conversation and for a moment I forget what I said and what I asked. Oh yeah, my unhealthy caffeine addiction.

  “’Cause my heart is all pitter-patter,” I answer and then add, “Either that or it’s all emotionally exhausting.” My cheeks puff up as I blow out a sigh.

  Bridget runs off with Kitty, her hair now in a simple ponytail thanks to Renee. It sways left and right as she hides away behind the sofa.

  “Well, it makes sense that you’re nervous,” Renee tells me as I stack the cupcakes on the tiered tray I got forever ago but have only used once.

  The pale pink doesn’t match anything else, but it went perfectly with Bridget’s birthday decorations back then.

  “Nervous is an understatement.” I can barely think straight. “I’m surprised I didn’t burn the toast.”

  “Just think of it as … a boyfriend meeting her.”

  “That doesn’t really help.” I speak the words slowly, not sure how to explain the bundle of nerves running through me. “She’s never met anyone I’ve dated.”

  “’
Cause you’ve never really seen anyone,” Renee adds and I bite my inner cheek rather than correcting her and reminding her of Robert. He doesn’t count. He’s always been here and I didn’t have to introduce him. Just thinking of him forces my hands to go cold and I shake them out. There’s a war brewing inside of me and … well, I’m a mess because of it.

  “Mommy,” Bridget cries out, rushing back into the kitchen. “Kitty,” she says, explaining the situation with a single word and motioning to the bump of hair that’s come loose from her ponytail. The plush animal is held in one hand, with a toy mirror in the other.

  “Did Kitty do that?” Renee asks her and is met with a curt nod. Renee’s grin is comical and it takes everything in me not to laugh when Bridget glances up at me. I bend down to fix it for her.

  “Is that better?” I give Bridget a kiss on her cheek as she looks into her Snow White mirror. “Love it,” she squeals and claps her hands before racing off.

  “I mean, who could possibly not love that little princess?”

  Bridget is literally dressed in a princess gown, complete with fake plastic heels. All her choice, and who am I to object?

  “It’s not about him loving her … or her liking him. I don’t know.” Shaking my head, I note how many times I’ve tried to gather my thoughts. “It just feels so permanent and like I can’t go back.”

  I’m scared. That’s the raw truth of it. All of this is new, and so much is out of my control, with more than I care for at stake. Pulling my own hair back, I take in a steadying breath and let the cool air from the open window hit my nape.

  “You look tired.” Sympathy clings to Renee’s comment. Ever since the unfortunate gathering today, Renee’s been glued to my side. She may have enjoyed the uncomfortable moment when she first saw Brody and Robert with me at the gallery, but the moment they were gone, I broke down.

  It’s not a joke or something to laugh at. It feels like my life is being ripped up into tiny pieces and glued back together in some other order and I don’t have control over it. It’s stressful and I’m stressed.

  “You think more concealer will help?” I half kid, although I’m also serious.

  “Nah,” she says then shakes her head and catches a stray ball that flies into the room. I plaster a smile on my face in response to my daughter’s shriek of delight from the catch. “Thought you could pull a fast one, huh?” Renee stands up, pushing back the barstool at the kitchen island and it drags across the floor. Bridget’s pulling out her toys in the living room. It was spotless ten minutes ago.

  If I cleaned it all up now, I’d just have to clean it all up again in ten minutes. While Renee plays with Bridget, I check on dinner and then glance at the clock again. I swear I look at that digital clock on the oven every five minutes on the dot. It’s almost five thirty, the time he said he’d be here.

  Well, he and Griffin. Thank goodness for Renee for thinking of that.

  When Renee comes back in, I bombard her with the question that keeps rolling around in the back of my head. “You sure I shouldn’t have waited?”

  “He’s just a friend coming over for dinner,” Renee reminds me for at least the fourth time since we’ve been home.

  “Right, just a friend.” Wiping my sweaty palms down the sides of my navy dress, I do everything I can to calm down, but the ring at the doorbell halts any progress.

  “I’ll get it,” Renee offers, practically standing up the second she sits down, but I stop her.

  “I can get it,” I tell her and then swallow. “I’ve got it.” I don’t know if the last bit was more for her sake or mine.

  “Mommy’s friends are here,” Renee tells Bridget, and I can practically see the smile on her face although my back is to them as I open the door.

  It’s not at all dark outside, although the sun will start to set soon. The warm hues of the fall sky make the perfect backdrop as I’m caught in Brody’s blue eyes.

  It’s the first time I’ve seen him in a collared shirt and slacks.

  “Hey,” I say to greet him and then bite down on my bottom lip as a smile takes over. It doesn’t last for long as I blush and tuck a lock of my hair behind my ear.

  “Hey yourself.” His deep baritone voice is soothing and his charming smile lights something inside of me, something that’s comforting. It’s as soft as warm blankets in the morning begging me to stay nestled within them rather than start the day. “I got these for you.”

  He holds out a bouquet of sunflowers, pink and yellow roses, and some sort of white flowers. The plastic around them crinkles and the pink ribbon blows in the gentle breeze that brings the blossoming scents to the tip of my nose.

  “They’re beautiful.” Taking them in both hands, I thank him, shyly looking between him and the bouquet.

  I don’t even notice Griffin until he asks, “You mind if we come in?”

  “Oh, of course.” Feeling slightly foolish and letting out a soft laugh, I step back to let them inside. “Come on in.” It doesn’t escape my mind that Brody’s been here before, but not like this.

  I catch Renee’s look and she smiles at the sight of the flowers. The kind of smug smile that speaks, “not bad.”

  “Let me just put these in water,” I say, feeling all those nerves that left a moment ago come flooding back as Bridget yells out, “Hello!”

  With a pounding in my chest, I get ready for the introduction, but the words don’t quite come out. It’s as if they’re just as nervous as I am.

  “Oh my goodness,” Griffin says and stares at Bridget who’s got the ball raised above her head, ready to aim and fire. He looks over at Brody and me still by the door, holding on to the bouquet in my hands for dear life. With wide eyes Griffin looks between Bridget and me then says, “You didn’t tell me there was a princess here.” He nearly whispers the confession and a simper breaks out across my face.

  Renee tsks and says, “I can’t believe you didn’t know royalty lives here.” Griffin’s amused expression shifts to one more charming as he takes in Renee. He doesn’t fail to notice she’s opted for a summer dress for tonight. Renee asked to borrow one from my closet, saying she should wear a dress since I was wearing one too, but I’m certain her decision had nothing at all to do with me. Before he has a chance to finish his “You look—” sentiment, Renee cuts in, a saturated shade of red climbing up her cheeks.

  “Princess, meet Mr. Griffin and his friend Brody.”

  My heart ticks slowly but Bridget doesn’t miss a beat, doing what I presume is a curtsy and then flailing her little arms, chucking the ball at Griffin and just barely hitting his shin after a bounce.

  A beep from the stove prompts me to move from where my feet seem to have been cemented into the floorboard.

  “Dinner?” Brody questions and I offer him a small smile with a nod as I close the front door and rush over to the stove. A single press to the timer button silences it as I call out, “I hope you like lasagna.” The oven door opens, revealing a not quite ready top layer of a recipe I found years ago and never stopped loving. I breathe in the aroma as I set the timer for another fifteen minutes.

  “I love lasagna,” he comments and hearing that word on his lips turns my heartstrings into a fiddle.

  The pot holder on the counter becomes my shield to defend against his charm as I pick it up and lean against the kitchen island. Renee has her normal seat in the living room; I can see her over the pass-through window that separates the two rooms. I can’t see Griffin, though, who’s pretending to be frightened of Kitty and hiding behind the sofa.

  Renee may say there’s nothing going on, but from where I stand, the two of them are head over heels for each other.

  Taking a nervous peek, I watch Brody follow Bridget’s path as she plays in the other room. My heart flutters helplessly at his smile in response to the laughter Bridget lets out when Griffin jumps up and lets her chase him around the sofa.

  “She’s tall,” Brody comments before looking at me, and my gaze goes down to the mitt in my hand.
As if I wasn’t just staring at him, wondering a million thoughts and letting a million more slip by.

  “She’s a little under average but then again, so am I,” I admit to him and remember those early days when she was so low on the charts and gaining weight was difficult. I bite my tongue, trying to find the right balance and wanting to keep things light. All the while, my throat is tight with emotions.

  “Well, taller than I thought a three-year-old would be,” he answers easily, still staying back in the kitchen and watching her.

  There’s a constant soft expression on his face and a spark in his eyes that signals awe.

  “What does she like?”

  He’s just a friend asking, I tell myself. Just a friend. I don’t know why it feels like the weight of the world is hanging on the end of whatever answer I’ll give him. I’ve never wanted a soul to approve of my daughter. If someone doesn’t love her, they can rot for all I care. She’s everything that’s good and pure in this world and if they don’t want her smiles, it’s their loss.

  But I want him to like her. I want him to know how perfect she is. Even through the tantrums and ever-changing phases that kept me up all hours of the night when she was a baby, she’s perfect.

  Turning my back to him so he can’t see my nervous expression, I open the cabinet and reach for the nicer plates on the highest shelf. I have to stand on my tippy-toes. It’s not fine china like my grandmother used to have. They are a pretty shade of blue, though, and they match the tablecloth I set. Even though I’m fully aware it’ll have to be washed tonight and potentially end up stained depending on whether or not Bridget’s place mat will remain on the table.

  “What she likes changes every month. Sometimes it’s bugs and pillow forts.” I smile remembering how her face scrunched up last month learning about how a caterpillar really turns into a butterfly. Apparently cocoons are gross. “The next month it’s soccer and bath bombs.”

  “Does she like sailing?” he questions as I set the plates down on the counter, listening to them clatter. He still hasn’t moved. He suggests, “I could take you guys out.”