by Cate Ashwood
It was strange waters I was navigating, and obviously, I needed a fucking compass.
I led Frankie into the brewhouse, and approximately thirty seconds into my explanation of what the lauter tun does, Frankie was completely zoned out.
“Anyway,” I said, as anxious as he was to finish the tour. “That’s pretty much it. I’m sure you’ll have more specific questions when it comes to handling my office, but we can deal with them as they come.”
He nodded at me, his eyes soft, and a wave of self-consciousness rolled through me. “I’m sure I can handle anything you need.”
I’d known the guy all of an hour total and he was already way under my skin. What was it about him that made everything that was said feel like innuendo?
And what was it about him that made me give a shit?
“Hey, Barrett. Who’s this?” Dee asked as we rounded the corner from the glycol system.
“Dee, this is Frankie. He’s here visiting from New York but offered to help us out with the office while he’s in town.”
“Great! Happy to have you.” Dee grinned. “How do you know Barrett?”
“I don’t really,” Frankie replied. “I just happened to stumble on the chaos of Barrett’s office and took pity on him. I used to work for a huge biomedical company in New York, and herding cats is kind of a specialty of mine.”
“He’s a friend of Holden Prescott’s,” I added.
“Oh, I know Dr. Prescott. He replaced my mom’s knee last year.”
“He’s a good guy and an excellent surgeon. Trash at cleaning up after himself, though.”
“Well, we sure do appreciate you helping out with the office. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but it’s a lot worse than you think it is.”
Frankie smiled and my stomach tightened. “I’m looking forward to helping Barrett out with anything he needs. Anything at all.”
“Pizza’s here,” Mason called, interrupting before Dee could read too far into what Frankie was trying to say.
“Coming!” Dee yelled back.
We headed toward the bar, Mason carrying a paper bag while the delivery boy from Pacey’s followed behind with a stack of pizzas so high, he almost couldn’t see over them.
I grabbed half the stack and set them down. “Dig in.”
My crew didn’t need to be asked more than once. It was like hyenas descending on an elephant, and all that was left were cardboard boxes and half-eaten crusts.
Frankie
I’d been at Copper Creek all of half a day, and I figured this was either the best decision I’d ever made or the worst.
Dramatic? Not remotely.
Even standing in the same room with Barrett, the walls close and the stacks of paper making the space seem even more confined, was doing things to my body that I couldn’t begin to explain.
The first night at J’s, there’d been that instant spark of attraction, that immediate pull. I wanted his hands on me. I wanted to know how it would feel if he held me down and fucked me through the mattress… desk… bar. Whatever.
But now, after spending some time with him, one-on-one, I could barely look in his direction without my dick wholeheartedly responding. There was something about his voice, the low gravelly tones that wrapped around me and made me want to ride him like a bachelorette on a mechanical bull.
“I have a question for you,” I said, leaning in.
My fingers itched to grab the front of his shirt, to bring him close enough to see if I could really set his blood on fire, but instead, I rocked forward, just a fraction of an inch, just enough to see his chest rise and fall slightly faster.
“What?”
“Are you actually ninety years old and you just look really good for your age?”
“What?” he repeated.
“Why is none of this stuff digitized? It’s all paper. All of it. Your computer is just an email account and Minesweeper.”
He gave me a blank look, like I’d just asked him to explain the origins of the universe. “I dunno. We found a system that worked when I started out, and we’ve just stuck with it.”
“Your system is stupid.”
“You always talk to your bosses like this on your first day of work?”
“Only if their administrative systems are stupid.” I picked up a folder and waved it at him. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t have hard copies if it makes you more comfortable. But digital backups are your insurance policy that if that big metal jug thing downstairs explodes, you’re not going to lose all your shit.” I looked around. “You have handwritten shipping manifests, a book where you manually enter deliveries. There is software you can get that automates all that. You’ll save time and money.”
“You know how to do all that?”
“Half. I did medical, not liquor. But I’ll figure the rest out.”
“You have enough time to get that done before you go?”
“When I’m done, it’ll run so smoothly you might not need to hire someone else. Or at least it won’t be as urgent as it is right now.”
For the first time since we’d started working, Barrett smiled, and it was a glorious sight.
“Okay, let’s do it.”
For the first time since Westbridge had collapsed, I felt like I had purpose again—at least, professionally. Copper Creek wasn’t a huge biomedical company. What Barrett did here didn’t change lives, but he did improve people’s day-to-day, and I was improving his.
It felt really damn good.
“Hey,” I called to Holden, pulling my shoes off and tossing them into the hall closet before venturing into the house.
“You’re home late,” Holden yelled back from the living room.
I sat next to him on the couch and hoisted my feet up to deposit them on the coffee table, sinking farther into the cushions. After being hunched over a filing cabinet all afternoon, it was nice to stretch out and relax.
“And how’d you get home, come to think of it?”
“I got a ride.”
“From?”
“Barrett.”
“Settling in and making friends, then, are you?”
“I wouldn’t say we’re friends. Actually, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like me much, which is ridiculous. I’m the most likable guy on earth.”
“Right,” Holden said condescendingly. “What’s not to like?”
“You know, if I wanted to be sassed in what is supposed to be a safe space, I coulda just stayed home with Gia.”
“I’m sorry,” Holden said, though I didn’t believe it for a second. “How’d everything go today?”
“It was really… productive.”
“Oh yeah? You get the whole wedding planned?”
“Not exactly… Not at all, actually.”
“You need a refresher on the definition of productive?”
“I do not,” I protested. “I got a job.”
Holden looked momentarily shocked but quickly checked himself. “I told you something would pan out. Any company would be lucky to have you. Did you do the interview before you left? Or did you Skype?”
“I got a job here.”
“Here.”
“Here,” I repeated.
He gawked at me. “In Sawyer’s Ferry.”
“Yep.”
“Are you… stripping?”
“Does Sawyer’s Ferry even have a strip club?”
“Only if you count J’s, when Dwayne gets drunk, strips, and dances in the parking lot, the first Friday of every month. It’s like clockwork.”
I laughed. “Is he any good?”
“He’s got surprising rhythm for someone with a blood alcohol concentration of 1.2.”
“I’ll add it to my calendar.”
“Seriously, though. Where’d you get a job?”
“Making you guess would probably be a lot more fun than just telling you. This fucked-up town has so many quirks. I live for those stories.”
“Just tell me.”
“I’m helping Barrett with
Copper Creek admin while I’m in town. His assistant quit, and he hasn’t been able to find someone to replace her yet. You should see his office. It’s messier than a Kardashian’s dating history.”
“You know he’s not going to sleep with you.”
I huffed indignantly. “Why does everyone keep reminding me of that?”
“Everyone?” Holden laughed.
“He said the same thing when I was in his office.”
“I’ll bet he did. I can imagine how awkward that would’ve been for him too.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Holden shook his head. “That man couldn’t fit your type more perfectly than if he’d been built, just for you.”
“I am capable of not whoring myself out. Just because he’s one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever laid eyes on doesn’t mean I have to bend over and gift him my ass.” I lifted one eyebrow. “Necessarily…”
“Frankie—”
“What?” I shrugged innocently. “I didn’t say I was going to do anything other than maybe present him with the option.”
“I think you probably already did, and he told you he wasn’t interested.”
“He was lying.”
“Frankie.” There was a not-so-subtle hint of warning in his voice that made me think Holden was more than ready for fatherhood. He thought I was completely delusional, but he hadn’t been there when it was just Barrett and me, locked alone together in his office. Maybe he wasn’t aware of how into me he was, but I knew it. His breathing changed, the tone of his voice. The way his eyes had followed my every movement.
“I’m not going to force myself on him.”
“Good. Because—”
“I won’t have to. He wants me already.”
Barrett
I stuck my head in through the office door. “You want coffee?”
Frankie looked up and beamed. “Yes. I do. This whole no-Starbucks-for-a-thousand-miles thing is killing me. I am having frap withdrawals. Frapdrawals. It’s a thing. Don’t question it.”
“We don’t have Frappuccino. All we got is drip.”
“I’m aware.” He sighed. “Drip is fine. Just load that mother up until it’s just coffee-flavored sugar.”
“I think there’s some of that aerosol whipped cream left from Dee’s birthday. You want me to toss some of that on top?”
His eyes lit up. “Oh, that’d be great. And if you can find some sprinkles or something, that’d be even better.”
I squinted at him. “I was kidding.”
“I wasn’t. Anything to tszuj up the boring bitterness. Maybe if you looked into trying a different brand. You know there’s lots of quality boutique—”
“The coffee’s fine.”
“Oookay,” he said. “You’re right. The coffee’s fine.”
I was halfway out the door before I heard him yell after me.
“I still want the whipped cream, though.”
I should have made him get his own damn coffee. He was more than capable.
But he had also arrived before I had that morning. In fact, Frankie had shown up for work before his scheduled start time almost every day. From looking at him, I’d snapped to judgment that he’d be at least somewhat unreliable. Turned out, he was very reliable, both with getting to work on time and with being a general pain in my ass.
I trekked down the stairs and into the kitchen where I found Cody, my cellar manager, spreading cream cheese on a bagel.
He nodded hello and went back to what he was doing. Cody wasn’t much of a talker, but that was one of his selling points. Not to mention he was great at his job. All my employees were. I didn’t know how I’d manage to luck out so hard, but I trusted every single one of them to do their jobs without having to be supervised or micromanaged.
They believed in Copper Creek as much as I did.
I grabbed two mugs and dumped enough sugar into one of them that it came halfway up the cup.
“For Frankie?” Cody asked.
“Yep.”
He nodded knowingly. “Saw him making one similar to that the other day. No clue how the man can stand anything that sweet, but I guess there’s a lot about him I don’t really get.”
Until now, I hadn’t really asked around about what people thought of Frankie. Maybe because his position with my company was extremely temporary. But I probably should have.
There were so many businesses out there that claimed their employees were like one big family and didn’t mean it at all, but for me, it was true. Most of my staff had been with me since close to the beginning. Their opinion counted.
“What do you think of him?”
“Frankie?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, I dunno,” Cody said, but he was speaking slowly. I knew he was considering it. “Not really sure what to think if I’m being truthful. He’s a nice enough guy. I ain’t gonna be hitting up any of those gay clubs with him, but what he does on his own time ain’t any of my business.”
At that moment, Dustin and Dee walked in.
“You trying to tell us something, Cody?” Dustin teased. “You into dudes now?”
“Fuck off,” Cody countered. “Said I wasn’t going to any clubs with him, didn’t I?”
“Dunno. I just heard ‘gay clubs’ and figured you were talking about your weekend.”
“Better than spending the weekend trying to fuck my brother’s girlfriend.”
“Ex-girlfriend,” Dustin corrected.
“Don’t make it better, man. Seriously. That shit’s fucked-up.”
“Nothing wrong with giving her the option. It’s her call.”
“I wouldn’t wait around for that call.”
Dustin took a deep breath, gearing up for something, but Dee interjected. “Guys, it’s too early for arguing. Get back to work.”
They looked at Dee, then at each other, grumbling as they grabbed their coffees and walked out of the room.
“I should give you a raise for all the toddler-wrangling you do around here.”
“Those boys just spend too much time together is all. They’re like brothers, so they fight like brothers.” She shrugged. “Happens.”
“It’s good, though. Not the fighting. But how close they are.”
“Uh-huh. Could do without it first thing in the morning, though. More mornings than I can count, I gotta send them to opposite corners.”
“What do you think of Frankie?” I asked.
Of all my staff, Dee had been with me the longest. She was my right-hand woman, and I trusted her judgment more than anyone’s.
“He’s good people. Not sure about his fashion sense, but I suppose they do things a little differently in New York City.”
“A bit out-there for Sawyer’s Ferry.”
“Yeah. Some folks might have a problem with it, but Frankie doesn’t seem like the type who would give two hoots about those people or their opinions. He’s who he is, and he’s unapologetic about it.”
“Doesn’t bother you to work with him, though?”
“Nah. It’s kinda admirable. I don’t know if I’d ever have that kind of confidence.”
I tried to imagine having the balls to walk down the street in town wearing makeup and purple leather and nail polish. In New York, probably no one would even blink. In Sawyer’s Ferry, everyone would be staring and likely whispering.
People just didn’t do that here.
But Frankie did, and Dee was right: it was who he was, and he didn’t give a shit.
I felt slightly better knowing that my staff didn’t have an issue with him. The only people I hadn’t asked were Mason and Ted. I knew Mason well enough to know he was fine with it. And Ted was the person who was most likely to have a problem with it, but he was also rarely in the warehouse.
I thanked Dee, then grabbed the coffees and headed back upstairs. Frankie was so deep in concentration when I walked in, he didn’t notice until I set his mug down in front of him.
He jumped back like I�
��d just set off an air horn in his face.
“Holy shit, could we put a bell on you or something? For a giant, you move surprisingly quietly.”
“I brought you your abomination.” I gestured to the cup.
“Thank you.” He peered over it. “No whipped cream?”
“Wasn’t any left,” I lied. I’d totally forgotten. “But enough sugar in there to make up for it, I think.”
He took a sip and grinned. “Perfect. I almost can’t taste the coffee.”
“What’s the point?”
“Enjoyment. I like it sweet,” he told me, his gaze flicking up to mine. “How do you like it, boss? If you could have it any way you wanted, how would you take it?”
His voice glided over me like honey, and I knew he wasn’t talking about coffee anymore.
“How’s everything coming?” I asked, blatantly changing the subject.
Frankie grinned like he knew he’d gotten to me and took another sip. “It might seem tedious, but I love this stuff—taking something that seems so beyond saving and making it better than it was to begin with.”
“Good. It’s been a long time since this side of the business ran smoothly.”
“Oh, don’t you worry about a thing. I’ve got it all under control, and once I’m done, it’ll be easy for the next person to pick it up. It’s a very intuitive system.” He set his coffee down, his expression thoughtful. “Do you open the bar downstairs to the public?”
“Not really. I built it for me and the guys. Every once in a while, someone will come in for a tasting or something, and I’ll pull a pint for them, but that’s about it.”
“You’re missing a huge opportunity. People love brewpubs. There’s space to put a kitchen in behind it.”
“There’s already a pub in Sawyer’s Ferry.”
“So?”
“So, Jane is my friend. I don’t want to take business away from her.”
“But—”
“And I don’t need the headache of it. Copper Creek takes up the majority of my days already. I don’t have time for much of a life outside of this, and adding one more thing to the list isn’t something I’m interested in.”
“No social life, huh?” Frankie edged closer. “You mean no sex life?”