He saw the three dots that indicated she was writing something, but the message never materialized. More proof that she wasn’t over it. Well, he’d swing by to see her later. Make sure she was okay.
He checked the time—8:00—and glanced through the rest of the messages.
Half were from a woman named Pat, who was apparently the head of the Nextdoor group, which she’d titled CONTAINING THE CAT MENACE ON FLINT STREET in all caps. She’d last texted to ask for a status update at three in the morning. Several other messages were from people who’d supposedly seen Jezebel, although one described her as a portly ginger cat and another admitted to being partially blind. Perhaps he should have thought twice about giving out his number so freely.
Hops pawed at his pants, reminding him that he needed to be taken out. Would Georgie be okay with him coming back to the loft a couple of times to do that? He couldn’t imagine she’d say no, but he was thinking about Georgie, the warm, wonderful woman who’d crept into his heart and lain in his bed, not Georgie, the businesswoman.
A sense of disquiet crept up on him—what would it be like when he saw her?—but he swallowed it down and continued with his morning routine. He arrived at the brewery at a little before nine and headed straight to the back, making his way to Beau’s old office. The place looked cleaner than he’d ever seen it, down to the beer rings on the tables, so at least they’d gotten that sorted. Hopefully Georgie had been able to book the company to take care of Beau’s house too.
He knocked on the door, his heart thumping powerfully in his chest, and heard Georgie’s crisp “Come in.”
He did, and his eyes instantly found her. Her hair had been unbound last night, loose and wild, like she herself was a moon goddess—a notion he’d shared with her while he was still inside her, making her laugh…and then gasp. “Why do you think I named it that?” she’d asked afterward. “I’m a goddess by moonlight.”
This morning her hair was pulled back into that tight style of the first day they’d met. Not a hair out of place. She was wearing an immaculate gray skirt suit that was much too fancy for Asheville, let alone for a brewery, plus a shirt buttoned up to her very chin.
As a message, it was clear, but something flashed in her eyes—like maybe she was remembering everything too—before she pointedly glanced to his left. Which was when he realized other people were present. For some reason, he’d thought they’d be alone—Georgie and River, planning what came next together, but Tom and Aunt Dottie were both seated in chairs in front of her desk, and although Georgie’s monitor was angled away from him, he heard Jack say, “Is he there?”
It punctured a little of his positivity, but he merely lowered himself into the empty chair next to his aunt’s. She winked at him, and he couldn’t help but wonder what she knew. Or what she’d guessed.
“Hi, Jack,” he simply said. “Do you need any crystals this morning?”
Georgie’s mouth twitched—he’d be generous with himself and call it a smile—and Jack said, “Your aunt already offered. I’m starting to think you have stock in some New Age company.” Georgie eyed the screen, and Jack sighed audibly. “Let’s just move on, okay?”
“Yes, let’s,” Georgie said. What had been said between them before the start of this meeting?
“Now, to get you up to speed, River,” Georgie said. For a second, he considered apologizing, but she’d told him to come in at nine, and he’d shown up a few minutes early. “I’ve spoken with Tom and Dottie about our existing stock, and they think we can stay open for two weeks. Jack and I love your idea of doing the big reopening with new beers, and we figured it might be a good idea to take it one further. We’re going to have a closing party too.”
Something flashed in her eyes, and he realized she was enjoying this. She was good at organizing things—scary good—and he was seeing her in her element. He was grateful for it. In a weird way, he liked this side of her just as much as the unbound Georgie from last night.
“That’s smart,” he said, grinning at her. Maybe it was an overly friendly grin for an employee to give his boss, but you could box up the past all you liked, there was no erasing it. “It can be a kill-the-keg party. A celebration of Buchanan Brewery the way it was, and an invitation for customers to be part of the future. We can hold a naming contest for one of the new brews. And if we still want to go with Jack’s idea of having one cocktail-inspired beer for each season, we can take votes on that too.”
Georgie’s whole face lit up—and damn, did he feel good about being the one who’d made her smile like that.
“That’s great,” Georgie said. “And you said you already have a few more beers planned. We can go over that after this meeting.”
“I do,” he said, grinning back at her. “I’d love to walk you through it.”
Their gazes held for a moment, River feeling that invisible connection between them, binding them even as they sat apart, untouching, but Aunt Dottie cleared her throat.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said, her tone very serious. “I’d like to donate my statue of Beau to the brewery. Beau belongs here. I’m not ready to part with him yet, but he should be at Buchanan for the grand reopening.”
Georgie’s face leached of color, as if the takeout had in fact been tainted, and the effects had only just kicked in.
“Um, that’s really generous of you,” she said, at the same time Jack said, “Are you talking about the statue with that giant crystal…?” Another look from Georgie silenced that last word, at least, but Tom shuffled a little in his seat, uncomfortable.
“You should keep the crystal, Aunt Dottie,” River said. “I think Beau would want you to have it. And you could maybe put some of his old clothes on him? Or some of the new merch once it’s redesigned?”
Georgie immediately grasped on to the idea. “Yes, that sounds great! I agree. We definitely want to celebrate the full history of the brewery.”
“With clothing,” Jack added.
“What’s your plan for the employees?” Tom asked, speaking for the first time since River had entered the room, not that he’d been given much of a chance. “Some of them can be assigned different tasks, especially since you talked about rearranging the tasting room, but redesigning the labels and merch will probably have to be done by a contractor.”
“I’ve been thinking about that a lot,” Georgie said. She picked up a pen and started tapping it. “We’ll need a full staff when we reopen. Like you said, some people can take on different functions. For those who can’t, I’ll offer them 75% of their salary during the closure if they sign an agreement to come back. They’ll be free to work elsewhere in the interim, of course.”
Tom’s eyes widened, and River didn’t need to ask to know what he was thinking—it was generous to the point of surprising. Most employers would have laid them off, especially since there were plenty of people looking for jobs in the area. It was the honorable thing to do, but it bothered River to know the vast majority of that money would come straight out of Georgie’s profits from Moon Goddess. So would whatever salary she offered him, and it was bound to be more than he wanted or needed after Finn’s big talk. How long would her savings last? And what if Buchanan Brewery still flopped after everything they were doing to save it?
“I think they’ll be pleased to hear it,” Tom said, rubbing the back of his neck. “There’s been a lot of talk of people losing their jobs.”
“Which is why we ought to throw an after-party for all the employees,” Aunt Dottie said. “At my house.”
Would any of them survive it?
“Aunt Dottie,” he said, turning to her, “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“Actually,” Georgie said, catching his eye for a brief moment, “I think it’s a good plan. The employees need to know they’re valued. Jack and I will help you plan it, Dottie.” She glanced at her brother on her computer screen. “I’m not sure what your timeline is like, Jack, but it might be a good idea for you to plan on being back in t
ime for the closing parties. I’m going to invite Adalia and Lee too, although I doubt they’ll both be able to come. It’ll be a chance for everyone to get to know us.”
Assuming it didn’t end with another fire.
“I’ll try” was all Jack said, and River couldn’t help but wonder if he’d told Georgie anything else about why he’d left town.
“All right,” Georgie said, clapping her hands together. “I’m pleased with where this is going. For now, we’ll carry on with business as usual, but we’ll have to announce our plans soon. Jack and I can work on that, and I’ll address the staff before we open for customers at 12:00.” She smiled at them each in turn, but this was her professional smile, her business smile. “We’ve got a lot to do, but I’m confident we can do it.” Her gaze shot to River, and something passed through it—regret maybe—before she said, “River, can you stay for a minute? I need to speak with you about something.”
His heart started pounding too fast again, and he felt both excitement and panic—did she want to talk about last night? In a quiet moment, as they lay together in bed, their bodies cradled together, he’d whispered to her, “Georgie, if you change your mind, you need to be the one to tell me. I promise I’ll never try to press you.” She’d just tipped her head to kiss him. But maybe she had rethought things.
Or maybe her brothers convinced her to get rid of you, a voice in his head countered.
Recognizing their dismissal, Tom and Aunt Dottie got up and left, River’s aunt pausing to squeeze his shoulder on the way out.
River had almost forgotten Jack was still there, remotely, when he said, “Make sure to tell him about what we discussed, Georgie.”
The way he said it, still with a bit of attitude, meant it wasn’t good news, but it clearly wasn’t you’re fired kind of news either.
“I will,” she said, a little pique in her voice. “Goodbye, Jack.” And she clicked the call off without giving him the chance to say anything else.
“Georgie…” River said, but truth be told, he wasn’t really sure where he was going with that. And he didn’t have the opportunity to find out. She slid a document toward him from across the desk.
“Here’s your official offer, River, like we discussed.” She licked her lips in a way that brought his attention to her lower lip—and made him remember sucking on it. And God, this was so much harder than he’d told himself it would be. “You can have a few hours to look it over, if you’d like, or have a lawyer, or even Finn, review it, but I’d appreciate it if you could give me your official answer sooner rather than later. I know we still have to discuss the new beers, but we’ll want to get started immediately on the Buchanan ones we’re keeping.”
There were so many things he’d like to say, but most of all, he wanted to take her hand. To reassure himself he hadn’t been dreaming everything. Instead, he took the document.
It was more than he’d made at Big Catch. Which meant she was definitely paying him from her savings. It was wrong, and he opened his mouth to say so when he realized there was a second paper behind the first. He flipped to it and frowned.
The heading read: Addition to the Employee Manual. And beneath it, it said: Fraternization is strictly prohibited between employees of Buchanan Brewery.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The look on River’s face sent a bolt of pain through her gut. It seemed like the ultimate insult to present it to him like this—not that she’d wanted to present it at all—but she’d woken to a group text between her siblings, Jack included, with Lee insisting she present the addendum he’d already prepared.
She’d nearly told him to go to hell. He hadn’t expressed the slightest interest in helping her run the business, and it wasn’t his money on the line. How dare he—they, because Jack had obviously played a part in this—think she would be anything less than professional. Hadn’t she been willing to give up River for that very reason?
And yet, it was a moot point anyway, wasn’t it? She and River had made a deal, an arrangement. They’d given themselves one night—last night—and now it was over. Georgie had known it would be hard to go about her business as though nothing had happened, but in the cold light of day, she realized how naïve she’d been. Or, more accurately, she’d discovered how amazing sex with River had been. Tasting heaven would make it difficult to go back to the way it had been before…because she knew that her life would now be before River and after.
She’d still thought about chucking the addendum. It had been on her mind all morning, pricking her like a bramble bush. She could say no. That’s all it would take. But something had held her back. At first she’d thought it was the part of her, the small part she hated, that still craved her father’s and brother’s approval, but now that she was with River, she realized what it really was.
One look on his face when he’d walked into her office had made it clear he’d be more than willing to pick up where they left off very early in the morning. And she wanted that. She wanted him almost enough to say the hell with their ridiculous deal and reach for him.
And that was why she slid that damned piece of paper toward him. Because her hesitation didn’t have anything to do with her family. Not anymore.
She knew she could lose herself in River if she allowed it to happen, and she’d never given any man control over her heart. Now wasn’t the time to start. She’d seen what had happened to her mother. She’d had a promising career as an art history professor, but she’d never gotten beyond the associate professor stage. Her interests, her drive, her ambition—they’d always taken a back seat to Georgie’s father. His whims had controlled everyone in the family, and the wisdom of retrospection told her they’d all but crushed her mother. Georgie had vowed to never let the same thing happen to her—to never let a man become her be-all and end-all—and she’d never been tempted before. It had never been an issue. But she’d only known River for a matter of days, and she was already thinking about him far too much. It scared her. Last night was fine…more than fine…but she stood behind her original decision—it couldn’t happen again. Which meant no River in her bed, or her in his, as the case may be.
“I know…” Her voice was rough, so she paused and cleared her throat before starting again. “I know we’ve already agreed to this, but my brothers insisted that all the employees sign it.”
His gaze was on the paper for several seconds, and for one brief moment she was terrified he’d get up and walk out of the room, leaving Buchanan Brewery. Leaving her. Not that she could blame him given the way her family was treating him.
Given the way she was treating him.
Finally, he released a short laugh and tilted his head, still not meeting her gaze. “That’s good. For a moment there, I was about to take it personally.”
“I didn’t write this up, River,” she said just a little too quickly.
That was what prompted River to raise his eyes to hers, a sad smile lifting the corners of his mouth. There was a novel’s worth of messages in his gaze. Empathy. Regret. Sadness. Respect. “I know. It’s okay, Georgie. You’re right. This is what we agreed to.”
So why did this feel so wrong? So sullied. Like making him sign that paper cheapened what had been hands down the best night of her life, with the kindest, most thoughtful…the sexiest man she’d ever known.
A lump filled her throat and she glanced down at Beau’s desk…her desk now. She was in charge, which meant she had to make the hard decisions and stand by them.
“I don’t need to have anyone look this over,” he said, searching her desk. “The offer is more than generous. Do you have a pen?”
His willingness to sign the offer letter, which he clearly hadn’t read from start to finish, put her in a panic.
“Are you sure?” she asked. “There’s a noncompete clause my brothers insisted on. You really should seek legal advice.” That had been Lee’s doing as well. Last night, he had emailed her, Jack, and Adalia a draft of River’s contract, drawn up by none other than t
he lovely Victoria. It was hard not to think it was some form of retaliation, or at least response, for ignoring her father’s request for a business proposal. Jack had responded promptly, wholeheartedly agreeing with the noncompete clause. Georgie had upped the offer significantly over what Lee had proposed, and she’d planned to strike out the noncompete language, but Jack had called her at seven thirty this morning, insisting she leave it in.
“What happens when River finds out he would have gotten it all if we’d failed?” Jack had asked. “What’s to keep him from jumping ship and either starting his own brewery or going to someone else’s with the sole intent of running us into the ground?”
“He’s not going to do that, Jack,” she’d said with a sigh, her heart heavy. “He’s not that kind of a guy.”
“And you know this how?” he’d demanded. “Because he’s obviously interested in you?”
“That’s not fair, Jack,” she’d snapped. “And it’s damned insulting.”
“We need him to sign it, Georgie. After we make it to the one year mark, we can offer him another contract without a noncompete, and he’ll be none the wiser. The one Lee came up with only runs through next April anyway.”
That had been another sticking point for her—the short term of the contract. It was for less than a year, which seemed insulting, but then again, she supposed it wouldn’t matter if they lost the brewery. Still, River didn’t know about the deadline, so she’d figured he was bound to question it. Only he hadn’t. He’d almost signed without even reading it.
Because he trusted her.
She felt like she was going to be sick.
His voice tightened, as though he were being strangled. “A noncompete?”
“Just for Asheville,” she said. “And a two-hundred-mile radius. You could go to the West Coast, though,” she quickly added. “Or you could get an attorney to make a counterproposal.” Please, please get an attorney.
Any Luck at All: Asheville Brewing #1 Page 21
