by Natalie Ann
“You tell me,” he said.
“You’re the one that was so chatty earlier. I just wanted to get down to business.”
He laughed, then lay back down, his hand now stroking her back. “I guess I just want to know where your mind is at. You’ve got more on the line than me.”
“Meaning?” She wanted him to spell it right out. Too many times in her life she’d made assumptions, and those assumptions bit her in the ass.
“Us.”
“That’s not very specific. I mean, you’re naked in my bed right now,” she said, smiling.
“I am. I like that. The question is, what does it mean? Is this something you want to continue on with? To see where it goes? Is it going to turn into a friends-with-benefits type of thing?”
She pushed back quickly when he said that, then swung her legs off the side of the bed and grabbed her clothes. This was why she never dropped her guard. This was why she’d avoided men for so long. This was why she didn’t have high expectations anymore.
With jerky motions, she started to tug her shirt over her head, but he was standing in front of her and pulling it away. “That came out completely wrong.”
“I don’t think it did,” she said, moving aside and grabbing another shirt from a drawer.
He picked her up and tossed her on the bed, coming down on top of her this time, pinning her in place, forcing her to look into his eyes.
“It did. You’re the one throwing up the roadblocks. Not me. I could have phrased that better and I’ll apologize for that. But I’m not apologizing for asking what is going on. Where you see this going. I want to know.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I don’t want Sidney hurt any more than you do. And the way she was with me today would hurt a great deal if you let it go on, but held back enough that you didn’t let me in. That you weren’t taking this seriously. Sidney isn’t the only one that could get hurt right now.”
“So it’s about you?”
“It’s about us. You, me, Sidney—the three of us together. Even the two of us together. I’m too old for guessing games. I’ve been there and done that and don’t like the results. I want you to respect me enough to answer a question I ask honestly and clearly.”
“This has nothing to do with respect.”
He rolled over, got off the bed, and picked up his clothes. “There is no getting through to you right now, so I’m not even going to try.” She stood there watching him dress. Then he turned and opened the door, looked around the corner to where Sidney was sleeping, lowered his voice and said, “It’s all in your hands now. You know where to find me.”
***
The next day, Brody showed up at three, which was late for a Friday shift for him. But at the moment he needed some time to figure things out.
He’d always been accused of holding things close to his chest, of never speaking what he really felt or doing what he really wanted.
Now he knew why. He put himself out there, only to have it all but thrown in his face. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this amount of frustration over a woman before. Maybe even this much hurt.
As much as he just wanted to walk away, push it to the back of his mind and forget the day happened, he couldn’t. He wasn’t lying when he said it wasn’t just Sidney that could get hurt.
If it wasn’t for what he’d read under the surface on Aimee’s face, he would have stormed out and written the whole thing off.
Instead, he went home and thought about it some more. Thought about what he knew of her life. Which, he realized when he was done, wasn’t much at all.
She was raised by a single mother for years, until a stepfather came into the picture. Money was evidently tight back then, and was now still. She as much as said she didn’t want to follow in her mother’s footsteps, and yet here she was.
She was tough as nails and kept things locked up tight. The only time she ever opened up was when they were having sex, and even then, she kept it at the physical level like he accused her of.
What was she hiding? What was she so afraid of?
He’d never know those answers if he didn’t ask. The problem was, asking only caused him his own grief.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, his mother stopped over this morning to see him. He was getting sick of the parental visits lately.
“What are you doing here?” he asked when she walked into his kitchen as he was sitting at the island drinking coffee in his boxers. He didn’t even have privacy in his own home. “I’m going to take that house key back if you do it again.”
She laughed and walked over to pour herself a cup and sat down across from him. Then she proceeded to stare at him until he was unnerved and started to wiggle around in the chair. “What?” he asked.
“Nothing. Just looking at my firstborn.”
He snorted and took another sip. He needed to learn that trait from her. How she could stay so calm and collected while her kids and husband squirmed under her gaze. Ella could do it too, but none of his brothers could, making him wonder if it was a female thing.
“What do you see?” he asked sarcastically.
“Someone who is struggling.”
Shit. Not only could she make them squirm, but she knew them all too well.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You don’t lie very well, either,” she said, smirking.
He was holding his tongue no matter what. The last thing his mother, of all people, needed to know was that he was frustrated over a woman. His employee, no less.
“I’m struggling to get some peace and quiet in my own house. It seems every time I turn around, one of my parents comes waltzing in on me. What if I had a woman here with me?”
“Since I know you aren’t a virgin, I wouldn’t be shocked.”
Again with the straight-faced replies from her. “Shock has nothing to do with it,” he said.
“Then what’s the problem?” she asked.
Damned if he knew. Thankfully his mother left shortly after, but all it did was put him on edge. Lying never sat well with him, and though he technically wasn’t, he hated sneaking around with Aimee.
Maybe it was a good thing Aimee was acting the way she was toward him now.
“How’s it been today?” he asked when he walked into the bar, picking up the daily menu, scanning it quickly, and then setting it down and turning to look at the flashing screen.
“Steady,” she said, the heat of her gaze burning a hole in his back. It was going to be a long couple of hours, he could tell.
“The combo selling well?”
He was just asking the same questions he did every day when he came into work. No way was he treating her different. She wanted to put him in a category, he could do the same.
“Better than average. Aiden has stepped up his special menu the last few weeks.”
“He and Mason have been talking and planning things in advance.”
“Like brews?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Mason always tells us what he’s brewing next, what he’s experimenting with. Now Aiden is planning menus around it.”
“That’s good,” she said. “Glad that it works out so well.”
“Yep,” he said, moving over and taking an order.
By the end of Aimee’s shift, Brody felt he blocked off all the frustration and hurt feelings between them. At least, he hoped he did a good job portraying that.
Obviously not, though. Not when she walked up to him at the end of the bar and whispered, “I’m sorry,” right before she was going to leave.
“For what?” he asked, not looking at her.
She hesitated for a moment. “Never mind,” she said, turning and getting ready to leave.
He could let her go. He wanted to—desperately—but didn’t. Instead, he reached out and grabbed her arm. “You need to make a decision. And when you do, let me know. But you need to make it. Not me asking, not me telling. It’s all on you to decide what is next.”
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She swallowed and nodded, her eyes filling a little, and that was the most emotion he’d seen from her. Too bad he had no idea what it actually meant.
Your Employee
Whatever thought process Aimee had or decision she came to, Brody was still in the dark. Of course, it wasn’t as if they’d had any time to talk outside of work.
Saturday was hopping like Saturdays in the summer normally did. Charlotte was a booming town with lots of excitement. Sporting events, indoor and outdoor concerts…all sorts of travel and tourism activities. Their brewery even got on the list of places to see when visiting. Once tours were done, the overflow came to the bar and restaurant just a short block away, many weathering the heat for a chance to experience the overall package. The small bar at the brewery that offered samples in a flight of four wasn’t often enough for the diehards.
Sunday proved to be more of the same, and with a bartender out sick last minute, he had to open. Monday and Tuesday, he and Aimee talked, but about nothing of importance in his mind.
Right now, she was downstairs getting ready to open for the day and he was stuck in the conference room with his siblings for their meeting, trying not to remember what he and Aimee had done on this table.
Two of his brothers had gone around the room and given their reports, and then Cade had the floor again for ideas.
“Merchandise is flying off the shelves,” Cade said. “We’re running out of room in the shop at the brewery. I want to carve out a spot here at the bar. Maximize our real estate for sales.”
“Where?” Brody asked.
“The coat room. No one is using it for coats. It’s best served for income. We rearrange it, put some shelves up, and stock best sellers. We have plenty of storage downstairs and the hostess can restock as needed.”
“In the winter, where do you want people to hang their jackets?” Brody asked.
“In the bar, they can put them on the back of their chairs. Most do anyway,” Mason said. “Or better yet, have hooks on the walls next to tables for people so they’re out of the way, but in sight.
“There’s a small room off to the side in the restaurant,” Aiden said. “Right when you walk in. I’ve got brooms and stuff in there, but we can convert that for the restaurant. Most people would rather hang their jackets back there than up front anyway.”
“Whatever,” Brody said. It wasn’t going to affect much of his job. “As long as I don’t need to set it up, I’m good.”
Cade looked around the room, and when no one else jumped in, he started talking again. “This brings up another idea. Well, an idea that Aimee came up with.”
That perked up Brody’s ears. So far he’d only been half interested in the meeting. “When did she talk to you?”
Cade looked at him oddly. “She’s not allowed to talk to anyone but you? Last I knew, we all owned a share of this business.”
He wanted snarl at Cade, but didn’t. Not when everyone was staring at him now.
“I just figured if she had an idea for the bar, she’d bring it to me.”
“It’s not for the bar. Not necessarily. It’s a merchandising thing. That’s me,” Cade said.
“So what is it?” Brody asked, waiting for Cade to get on with it.
“The staff love buying and wearing merchandise. They’re our best advertisers,” Cade said.
“And they get a big discount on products to do that,” Ella said.
“They appreciate it. I know they do,” Cade said. “But Aimee made a comment about how staff like to feel they’re contributing more. That a lot of times they have great ideas and we should tap into it. Have some contests.”
“Like what?” Mason asked. “I poll my staff all the time for ideas on brews. Sometimes I wished I didn’t.”
Brody snickered. “There is no accounting for some people’s tastes.”
“Anyway,” Cade said. “I listened to what she said, then thought on it some more and realized we could do something for each division. Brewery, bar, and restaurant. Staff submit ideas for merchandising. It can be a product or a saying, or a design. Their choice. Then the staff anonymously vote on one idea for the three parts of the business. The winner gets to help design the one item/idea, but we have the final say.”
“So that’s all?” Ella asked. “They get bragging rights?”
“Isn’t that enough?” Mason asked.
“No,” Cade said. “I think we give a bonus on top of it. Five hundred to the winner. Give them more than bragging rights. Money is a motivator. They’re more likely to take it seriously if there’s a bigger stake in it.”
“I guess it doesn’t hurt to try it,” Aiden said. “No one says we have to do it again. We could get good ideas, or ridiculous ones, but if it gets the staff involved, why not? We’d most likely break even at the very least.”
“So does Aimee get that bonus for coming up with the idea?” Brody asked. “It’s not the first one she’s come up with that has been a success.”
“We have no clue if this will be a success or not,” Ella argued.
“Just getting employees involved and caring is a success in itself,” Cade said. “You know I’m always trying to find ways to do that.”
“If you want to give her something, Brody,” Ella said, “then come see me after the meeting. If she is doing that good of a job, give her a raise.”
“It’s that easy?”
Four pairs of eyes were glaring at him now. What did he say?
“Brody,” Aiden said, “do you know anything about your staff at all?”
The heat filling his face had nothing to do with that statement and everything to do with how well he actually knew Aimee.
“You guys hired her without me. How am I supposed to know what you’re paying her?”
“Fair point,” Mason said.
Finally, someone coming to his defense.
“Come see me at the end of this meeting and we’ll talk,” Ella said. “We did start her lower than Felix because she didn’t have as much experience as he did, but she’s proven herself tenfold already.”
Twenty minutes later, Brody was sitting in the chair across from Ella. “So what do you have in mind for Aimee?” she asked.
To have her talk to me. To have her open up and let me know what is going on. To let me see Sidney again. “Where is she at right now?”
Ella turned her laptop around and showed him her rate of pay. “That’s it? That’s not even a quarter of mine.”
Ella laughed. “As it should be. You’re an owner.”
“But that doesn’t count toward my salary.”
“What do you want to give her?” Ella asked, sighing. “It’s your choice. Give me a percentage increase and I’ll let you know if it’s too much.”
Since he didn’t know what Felix made either, he didn’t know what to say. He took a risk and said, “How about ten percent?”
She lifted her eyebrow. “That’s a little steep this early on, but since she has helped increase revenue with her combo idea—which has more than made up for this raise—it’s doable.”
“Great,” he said, standing up. “Just let her know.”
“No, that’s for you to do,” Ella said. “I’ll give her an official letter, but she’s your employee, you recommended it, so you tell her.”
“Oh. When?” he asked.
“I’ll make it effective this Sunday, the start of the new pay period.”
“Okay. I’ll let her know before then. Just give me the letter or whatnot when you’ve got time.”
“You’ll have it in a few minutes if you want to wait.”
Five minutes later, he had it in his back pocket as he made his way downstairs. The bar would be opening any minute and he’d missed his opportunity to talk to her again without interruption.
***
Aimee couldn’t imagine what Brody wanted to talk to her about. He’d never told her to take a break and go to an office with him before. Not during working hours. Not leaving one person on staff.
Did she do something wrong? Was he going to choose now to find out if she made a decision?
“How long will we be?” she asked, following him up the stairs. “I don’t want to leave Mary alone too long.”
“It’s slow, she can handle it, and we won’t be gone that long.”
They were in an empty office upstairs, Brody shutting the door and giving them privacy. He wasn’t saying anything, just looking at her.
His stare was starting to unnerve her. “I’m sorry I haven’t told you my decision yet,” she blurted out.
“You made it?” he asked.
“I did. It’s just we haven’t had time to be alone and talk.”
“We are now, so go ahead. It shouldn’t take much time to tell me yes we’re going to move on, or no we aren’t.”
So that was what this was about. Somehow she didn’t think he’d want to do this at work. And in her mind, it wasn’t as simple as that. But here goes. “I’d like to. I guess the question is how or why you want to.”
“I think the why is pretty clear.”
“If it was, then I wouldn’t have just asked. I want to know why you want something more with me.”
“You don’t think very highly of yourself, do you?”
He probably didn’t mean it as an insult, but that was how she took it. She crossed her arms. It seemed all they did lately was tick each other off. “I guess not. So tell me.”
He sighed. “You’re nice. You’re sweet. You put other people before yourself. You’re a hard worker. You look great in a pair of shorts and you make me feel good about myself.”
“Huh?”
“Which one confused you? The part about looking good in shorts?” he asked, grinning. The grin turned her to mush every time. Of course, his fitted shirt and biceps bulging out didn’t hurt either. She was such a sucker at times, but big muscular arms had never affected her that way before.
She let her arms fall to her sides. “No. The last one.”
