Heartwood

by J. H. Croix

  “I’ve seen their ciders in local stores,” I commented.

  “That’s the one. Anyway, you’ll see Alec and Lyle the most. Griffin comes by a lot too, but he’s always in a hurry. Otto stops by now and then.”

  Just then, Phoebe appeared in the hallway. “There you are. Did Ty give you the tour?”

  Ty’s brows hitched up. “Of course I did. You asked me to.”

  Phoebe smiled. “So I did, but it’s not like I’m your boss.”

  Ty shrugged easily. “She’s all yours.”

  Glancing up at him, I felt my lips tug into a smile. Because Ty was the kind of guy who elicited smiles the way honey drew bees. He had a warm, friendly vibe. And then some, when it came to the chemistry that sparked between us. “It sounds like I’ll see you around.”

  “It’ll be hard not to,” Phoebe offered. “Thanks again.” She cast a quick smile at Ty before waving me into the break room.

  “Thanks, Ty.”

  “Any time.” He smiled again, and my belly did another wild swoop.

  Phoebe’s back was to me as I took a deep breath and hoped my cheeks weren’t too flushed.

  2

  Tyler (Ty)

  I watched for a moment as Belle Dunn walked into the break room. She was someone I did not expect to see. Not here, not today. She’d been on the fast track to anywhere other than a sleepy small town in Vermont back when I knew her before.

  I gave my head a little shake as I turned, stopping when I heard someone call my name. Glancing to the side, I saw Alec Rossi in the brewing room.

  “Hey, man,” I said, walking toward the brewing room and leaning my shoulder inside the doorway.

  Alec grinned. “How’s it going?”

  “Busy.”

  “That’s what I like to hear,” he replied with a wink.

  “What are you guys up to?”

  Griffin Shipley was standing at a narrow table, making notes on a notepad. He glanced up, running a hand through his shaggy dark hair. “Just checking on things with the brewing.”

  With Griffin’s love of all things brewing and Alec’s enthusiasm for this place, it worked out well for both of them to be involved here. Griffin also stayed busy running his family’s farm and managing a small operation for retail craft ciders, while Alec bounced between here and The Gin Mill next door.

  “You meet the new chef?” Alec asked.

  “Actually, I knew her before. We went to college together.”

  Griffin hitched a brow in question as he put his notebook away.

  “Belle is good people. Surprised to see her here. When I knew her back then, she was a top honors student and had big plans for law school. This seems to be a detour for her.”

  “Maybe cooking is her new passion. It took Audrey a while to figure out that’s what she loved,” Griffin said, referencing his wife who co-owned the Busy Bean Café. Her baked goods were legendary in town. I didn’t know how anyone who ate her food on the regular didn’t gain at least ten pounds.

  “Maybe so.” I glanced up at the clock on the wall behind the table. “I need to get up front. Catch you guys later.”

  I walked to the bar area, pondering Belle’s appearance here. My brain was also churning over her. Belle was that girl to me. Oh, she hadn’t broken my heart or anything. We hadn’t even been serious. We’d hooked up a few times in college, and those nights were my most memorable by a long shot. Life had moved on, and I hadn’t figured we’d cross paths again. And yet, here she was.

  Hours later, I was done for the evening at Speakeasy, and I stepped out into the starry darkness. I walked around the building, following a narrow lighted path through a cluster of trees between Speakeasy and The Gin Mill. It led to a sweet viewing platform with a bench by the river. I came here frequently after I finished working. It was a nice place to unwind after the hustle of work.

  I slowed when I saw a silhouette on the bench in the darkness. The air was a little cooler here from the water flowing by. As I approached, even though I didn’t know for certain it was Belle, electricity sizzled up my spine and my body tightened in anticipation. As I got closer, I could see the light glinting on her dark hair.

  “Belle?”

  I stopped by the end of the bench, and she tilted her face up. “Hey, Ty.”

  Solar activated lights surrounded the base of this small viewing platform with glittering lights strung on a trellis above. There was just enough light for me to see her. Her luminous brown eyes caught mine.

  “How was your first shift?” I asked, deciding there was no reason for me not to sit down. There was plenty of room for both of us on the bench.

  “Good. I mostly followed Phoebe around. It seems like a nice place to work. The food is certainly amazing.”

  “The food is definitely top notch. Phoebe’s a hotshot chef from New York City.”

  As I looked over at Belle, I noticed again, as I had earlier, that she had purple streaks in her hair. The light just barely caught them. Belle had a feminine, tomboyish vibe. Her glossy dark hair fell in a tousle around her shoulders. With her wide brown eyes and mobile mouth, she had a wholesome, sultry quality. I didn’t know if I thought she was sultry because of how she looked, or because of how I knew her, intimately speaking.

  “I thought you were destined for law school,” I commented conversationally.

  Belle’s eyes held mine before sliding away. Her teeth snagged her bottom lip, sending a hot sizzle through my body. When she looked back toward me, her gaze was uncertain. Her shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath.

  “Look,” she began before a long pause. “I was, but it turned out law school wasn’t the best thing for me.” She swallowed. “I’m doing this now. I love cooking, and it’s a little more low key.”

  I stared at her, genuinely confused. Low key was pretty much the opposite of how Belle had been when I knew her before. She’d been hyper-focused on her grades. I’d graduated a few years ahead of her, but I was pretty sure she graduated valedictorian of her class. She’d also been pretty wild. I recalled thinking it was remarkable how much of a social butterfly she’d been, while also being a top honors student. Her energy had been indefatigable.

  “Low key,” I repeated, not quite a question, but more repetition, as if then I would understand it.

  She nodded quickly. “I need something low key.” She stood quickly. “It’s good to see you, Ty.” At that, she dashed off, hurrying along the path so quickly I was surprised dust didn’t kick up behind her feet.

  3

  Belle

  “May, you didn’t mention Ty Connor was the general manager there,” I said into my phone.

  “Should I have given you a rundown of all the staff? I don’t actually know everyone who works there,” May replied, her tone dry.

  I sighed, rolling my eyes, even though she couldn’t see me. “No, I didn’t expect a rundown. It’s just I know Ty. We, uh, have some history.”

  “Ty’s a nice guy. Is your history with him a problem?”

  “No. It’s just he knew me before my life blew up. He also might’ve been a hookup in college.”

  My cheeks got hot at the mere recollection of those firecracker nights with Ty. My life had been pretty busy then. It’s not as if I dwelled on Ty in the years since, but I’d certainly never forgotten him. We were good together, more than good if my hormones had a say in the matter.

  May’s sly chuckle filtered through the phone line. “Maybe he can be your hookup again. You could use a little fun.”

  “May!” I protested. “Fun is what gets me in trouble. Ty doesn’t know what happened, and I was pretty wild when he knew me.”

  I could hear her sigh. “You know, there’s no sense in keeping everything a big secret. Just tell him what happened. I get that you’d rather not spill your tea everywhere, but it’s never that easy to run from things. I have some experience in that area.”

  “Yeah, but you didn’t end up in a psych ward.”

  “Belle,” May warned. “Mayb
e not, but we all screw up. Just think about it. It’s easier to tell the truth, even if it feels harder at first. That much I can vouch for.”

  I stared out the window in the little apartment I’d rented in the upstairs of an old home in downtown Colebury, Vermont. I could actually see Speakeasy from here and the river just beyond it. “I’ll think about it,” I finally said.

  “You do that. Meanwhile, I need to go, I have an appointment showing up in a few minutes. Talk later?”

  After I got off the phone with May, I wondered for a second if I wanted to revisit going back to law school. Because that’s how I knew May, and this topic chased its tail in my thoughts every now and then. She’d been ahead of me in law school when we’d met in passing. Somehow, when she heard about my little blowup, she’d hooked me up with pro bono representation through a friend of hers in Burlington after I stole that car. Technically, I didn’t have a criminal record, but the idea of trying to get back into law school felt daunting. I wasn’t sure if I could swallow my pride and do it, nor was I sure if it was what I actually wanted.

  Blowup didn’t accurately capture what happened. It was more like a spectacular explosion of my life. My mind spun back to Ty’s question last night. He’d known me back when I was trying to be the best and brightest. I wasn’t an asshole about it, but getting good grades came easily to me, and my energy had felt boundless. It went from boundless to not sleeping for days at a time and not even getting tired until it all spiraled waaaayyyy out of control.

  Somewhere in the back of my brain I’d known things were skidding sideways. It’s just that once I started skidding, it really was like a car speeding down the highway with the gas pedal nailed to the floor. I hadn’t known how to stop it.

  I snorted a bitter laugh to myself. I quickly tapped out a text to my therapist.

  I think I need a refresher. Do you have any openings coming up soon?

  She told me two months ago that I was doing well enough I didn’t need to keep seeing her every week and could plan to reach out when I needed a little extra help. I slipped my phone in my purse as I walked out the door a few minutes later.

  I moved swiftly at the stove, turning a burger as steam rose from the grill. I tended to settle into a rhythm when I was cooking, one task flowing smoothly into the next. I loved the ebb and flow of the work. Within minutes, I was passing through a plate with a delectable looking grass-fed beef burger on a pretzel roll.

  The night passed quickly, and I tried not to be distracted by Ty’s occasional appearance in the kitchen. When I’d arrived, he was behind the bar and cast me a quick grin while he filled a pint glass of beer for a customer. Speakeasy was busy. The Goldenpour name alone had people flocking here. Phoebe also brought her cachet as a New York City chef.

  Oddly enough, I wasn’t even worried about how the pace here had me rushing. Because there was no pressure for me. The wrong kind of pressure tended to set me off, or so I’d learned. I enjoyed being in a busy restaurant kitchen so much that the pace was entirely different from the kind of academic tension I’d nearly buckled under.

  Later that night when my shift was over, I checked my phone to see my therapist had replied. Of course. Tell me what your work schedule is. We can meet earlier in the day if that’s better for you. She then listed the openings she had, which weren’t many. Just remember, you’re doing great.

  She said that a lot. My adjustment to this version of great wasn’t the version I’d had in my head for so long. And yet, that version had turned out to be seriously problematic for me.

  As I was walking toward the staff parking area in the back, Ty came out of one of the storage rooms, almost colliding with me. “Oh, sorry, Belle,” he said as he came to a quick stop.

  “No problem. Are you done for the night?” I asked, resisting the urge to dash away and avoid him.

  I was caught in what felt like a cross-current with my reaction to Ty. On the one hand, that pesky chemistry still burned hot, at least on my end. I thought I recognized that dancing tease in his eyes. On the other hand, I wanted to run for my life. Because he knew the old me, the girl who was hyper focused on being an academic star and shooting to the top of some sort of imaginary career ladder. He also knew me as a girl who sure had a lot of fun. Although my fun days had slowed down in law school, I still felt shining and bright, but there’d been a constraint to it that I couldn’t escape.

  The pressure had built and built until my plans were shredded and tossed in the air like confetti, except it wasn’t fun, and I ended up in the psych ward. Stealing a car hadn’t even blipped on my radar when it happened. I wasn’t trying to make excuses, but I hadn’t been thinking clearly. At all. It was only after the fact that sheer mortification at my actions swamped me. The funny thing was when you were manic, basically everything seemed like a good idea, no matter how horribly bad it actually was.

  May’s advice repeated in my thoughts. It’s easier to tell the truth, even if it feels harder at first.

  Ty was nodding, and I had to nudge my brain back onto the track of our conversation. “Yep, all done for the night,” he was saying. “Fortunately, I don’t often have to work the late shift at the bar. I’m guessing you’re done too.” He fell into step beside me.

  That entire half of my body felt prickly and hot from his presence there. I should’ve been distracted by the low hum of conversation from the bar behind us, but the sounds didn’t even register. All of my awareness centered on Ty.

  “How are you settling in?” He stopped and held the door for me.

  I slipped past him quickly, replying, “Good, I think.”

  I felt uncertain a lot lately, a feeling I wasn’t familiar with. I used to feel confident most of the time. I felt like I had my shit together, and I knew what to do with my life. These days, I questioned everything. For example, was I supposed to just say good night and walk on by? Or, stop and chat with Ty? This felt like a huge question with ramifications I couldn’t fully grasp.

  More than chatting, I wanted to kiss him. Which wasn’t a smart plan. I stared up at him, appreciating his smoky eyes, and his mouth with that dimple right on his chin. He was oblivious to the questions bouncing around in my thoughts, which was for the best.

  “Want to head next door to The Gin Mill for a drink?”

  “Is that consorting with the enemy?” I quipped.

  “Definitely not. Alec is part owner here and full owner there. It’s totally cool. Not to mention, that’s a bar, and we’ve got the brewery and a full-blown gastropub at Speakeasy. Honestly, I prefer to hang over there after hours, just because I work here. Being a manager, I don’t want staff worrying about what I do off the clock.”

  My lips were forming the word “yes” before I could think better of it.

  “Come on, we’ll walk over,” he said.

  I followed Ty along the path through the trees to The Gin Mill, and a few minutes later, I found myself sitting across from him at a table. I looked around the space. I’d seen it from the outside, but this was the first time I’d been inside. The Gin Mill had a funky, warm vibe with the bar hopping, lights glittering outside on the patio and music creating an inviting space.

  “This place is nice. I love that they’re renovating the old mill buildings here,” I commented when my eyes made their way back to Ty.

  “It is. They’re gorgeous old buildings. From what I understand, it used to be pretty rundown, but Alec jumpstarted things when he bought this place and renovated it.”

  “So, tell me, how did you end up in Colebury?” I asked after a waitress stopped by to take our drink order.

  I ordered a glass of wine, telling myself one drink was fine. One drink was fine, but the old me used to push it, and that wasn’t a good idea.

  “I was looking around for a job. I bartended on the side all through college and managed a place for a bit after I graduated. When I heard about this place, I applied and got the job. It’s that simple. What about you?”

  I fiddled with the bracelet o
n my wrist. It was such a basic question and entirely expected. We did know each other once upon a time, but that felt like another world completely. I couldn’t have imagined I’d end up looking for a job as a chef, and Ty had been a hot hockey star. The only thing that carried over from that time were the embers of our chemistry, which were still burning hot to the touch.

  “You’re not from here, are you?” he prompted, as if somehow reading into my thoughts.

  “I grew up right outside Burlington. My friend, May, told me about the opening for a chef at Speakeasy and introduced me to Phoebe. I knew May from law school. She was a few years ahead of me.” I left out the second part of our connection, which was that she’d helped me find legal help at a time I really needed it. “I was looking for a job, and it seemed like a good fit. I found an apartment just down the street. I don’t even have to worry about driving to work, which is convenient.”

  “Oh, so you did go to law school?”

  Fuck a duck. Once again, I recalled May’s friendly reminder that telling the truth was the easiest option I had. It’s just I thought I’d be coming to a town where I wouldn’t know many people. I sure as hell didn’t think I’d run into my favorite college hookup. Not that I had many, but Ty definitely shined bright.

  I took a breath and steeled myself. “I did. Here’s the thing, uh, things got a little rough for me in law school. I wasn’t doing well, and I kind of spiraled.” I circled my hand in the air, a poor example of what spiraling looked like in my life. “Long story short, I have Bipolar Disorder and had a manic episode. Ever heard of that?”

  Okay, then. I hadn’t meant to just spill it all right then, but I supposed my subconscious had really taken May’s advice to heart.