Brew Ha Ha Box Set: Books 1-4

by Bria Quinlan

  “I assume you work with companies to do something financial.”

  “There’s more to it than that.” Malcolm launched into what would have been an excellent training video for new corporate advisors, but horrible for anyone who couldn’t have cared less about corporations, advisors, or finances.

  I’d started my 401k right away and hired a good planner because I wanted to retire one day. That was as smart as I was going to get about finances. Budget tightly and hire a good planner.

  I know my weaknesses. I wasn’t going to let them cost me my retirement.

  But I also wasn’t interested in what a planner—any planner—did every day, especially with corporations.

  The only thing that broke up the lecture was his constant need to stop his kids from stealing each other’s stuff, hurting one another, or destroying The Brew.

  I was trying not to glaze over when a little body threw itself at Malcolm.

  “Daddy, we’ve been here forever. You said she would be fun, but all she’s done is sit there and drink her drink. I have to pee and Jeffery and Matthew said I have to go by myself, but I don’t want to go in there alone. I don’t know what’s in there and my hot chocolate is cold and Matthew scribbled on my pony picture and I’m bored and you said we’d get ice cream after this.”

  “All right, you’ve been really good. Go tell your brothers to pack up.”

  I shuddered. If this was good, I was afraid to see what the little terrors were like if set on destruction.

  “Sarah, would you mind?”

  I glanced around trying to figure out what he was asking. “Would I mind?”

  “Would you mind taking Amy to the ladies room?”

  I stared at him waiting for the just joking that never came.

  “Actually, yes I would mind. I don’t know your daughter and I’ve never brought a little girl to the bathroom before. I’m afraid I’m not comfortable with that.”

  Malcolm set his hands on his hips as he stood over me—also probably waiting for the just joking.

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Really.” How could this date not be over yet?

  “Sarah, I thought we might have been a good match, but if you can’t even do this one little thing, I’m not sure you’re mother material.”

  “I never claimed to be mother material. But then again, you never claimed to be a father. So, I guess we’re even.”

  I stayed seated, waiting for him to make his move. Waiting for him to take the terrors and head out.

  He hovered, just watching and waiting. Waiting for what? Who knows?

  Finally, he shook his head. “I’m not going to lie. I’m a little disappointed in you.”

  Really? I’m not the one who lied by omission all over my profile.

  “Malcolm, I’m going to be honest here. You don’t need a wife. You need a taskmaster of a nanny. I know that’s a little more expensive, but it will save you money in the eLove membership fees.”

  I thought he was going to follow family suit and throw a hot beverage at me.

  “Come on, kids. We’re outta here.”

  And thank goodness.

  The door was barely closed before John was filling the chair next to me.

  “I can’t believe how long you lasted.” He sipped the tea he’d brought over with him. “I was ready to ask them to leave after the third hot chocolate spill.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “What are you sorry about?”

  “I brought them here.”

  “Yeah, it totally sounded like you knew you were getting four-for-one when you showed up.” John crossed his legs, one ankle over knee. “So, Date Three was shopping for a mommy, huh?”

  “Looks that way. His kids aren’t the best advertisement for the position.”

  “His kids are an advertisement for sterilization.”

  “John!”

  “What? They’re the worst behaved children I’ve had in here since I opened. And he was completely intrusive as a parent. Expecting others to entertain, admonish, and care for his children.”

  “I take it you’re not a kid person.”

  “I love kids. Six nephews, three nieces. But if they ever threw a drink anywhere, let alone in public, they’d be standing up to eat for a few days not getting a new one.” I watched his foot shake as he talked about his family, a whole new energy rushing through him. “They’re smart and sweet. But just like all of us at that age, they have a little of the devil in them. It’s our job as the adults in their lives to teach them what’s not appropriate. And to teach it kindly with firmness.”

  Wow. I hadn’t put a lot of thought into it, but that sounded like a pretty good plan to me.

  “What about you? Kid person?”

  Was I? I didn’t have any siblings, so no nieces or nephews. All my friends with kids had newborns. I was pretty sure I wasn’t a baby person. They were just starting to get personalities no matter what their parents said about a certain smile or the way they cooed.

  Malcolm’s kids definitely scared me a bit.

  “I don’t know.” That was the most honest answer I had. “I haven’t been around a lot of kids.”

  “You’ve got plenty of time to figure it out. And keep in mind they’re not all like the terrors.”

  “Thanks, John.” I finished my tea and set the mug on the tray. “I’m off. I have to realign some lights that burnt out at work.”

  “Sounds exciting. See you for Date Four.”

  I waved over my shoulder at his laugh and wondered if maybe I should have put him in charge of going through the profiles. Having a sober bartender on my team should be good for something.

  7

  Funny Guy looking for Fun Girl for casual dating – Yes, we all want more in our lives, but let’s start slow and see where things lead.

  I’d learned my lessons with Dates One through Three. I asked straight out about kids. I also felt around about guy friends and dating rules. Date Four said he had no kids, wanted to keep it that way for a while, and his guys always had his back.

  Also, none of his other friends were on eLove. Yes. I asked.

  We’d been emailing for two weeks and I was glad when he asked about meeting up. I was on the verge of pushing us to the face-to-face, but had been trying to leave that up to my top five.

  Date Four, Hank, was a little different from One through Three. He was looking for someone to go out with, someone who wanted to hear some bands and see some movies. There wasn’t any talk about the future. No is this good for long-term more let’s just wait and see. It felt more like when you’re meeting someone organically.

  You don’t bump into some cute guy at a party and say, “Oh, hi. Are you looking to get married in the next three-to-seven years?” If you did, that’s probably something you should seek help for.

  I’d considered inviting Four—I mean Hank—to a different spot to meet. Four fails in a row might be a little embarrassing. But John had been so encouraging that it didn’t seem fair to deprive him of my possible humiliation.

  When I got to The Brew, John was training a mostly-blond girl behind the counter. He pointed out different coffee and tea blends, showing her how to measure out the right amount for each serving size. After a moment, he introduced us like he was entertaining in his living room instead of running a business.

  “Abby, this is Sarah. She’s our dater.”

  Great. Just what I needed to be known for.

  “So, you just come in here every day with different a date?”

  It sounded more ridiculous when spoken aloud.

  Especially when it was being spoken with disdain by someone who couldn’t be over sixteen, had two piercings in her eyebrow, and whose hair was actually three shades not seen in nature under the blond bits.

  “Not every day.”

  “Abby is my new employee.” The pride John said it with was almost as obvious as when Jane introduced Dahlia to people.

  “Nice to meet you.” I wasn’t sure it really was.
I hadn’t been this nervous around a teenage girl since I was a teenage girl.

  “Is that what you’re wearing?”

  Since I was obviously wearing what I was wearing, I wasn’t sure how to answer that question. “Yes?”

  “And this is a first date?”

  “A casual one.”

  Abby quirked that pierced eyebrow and moved away.

  “So, Date Four tonight, huh?” John set out a tray and began mixing a new blend for me. “Who’s this one?”

  “A marketing executive looking to date casually.”

  “Oh. Casually.” He might as well have said, Oh. To slaughter kittens.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “No. What was that all about?”

  John ignored me and headed around the counter to set my tea tray on my usual table.

  “John.”

  “I just didn’t think you were the casual type of girl.” Yes. He did put air quotes around it. And he sounded really annoyed. As if I’d put out an ad for sex.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Come on, Sarah. Casual is obviously code for sex. Casual sex.”

  “No it isn’t.” Was it? Had I accidentally put out an ad for sex?

  “Of course it is. He said he’s just looking for someone to have fun with?”

  “So?”

  “So, fun is also code for sex.”

  “Not everything is code for sex.” I was really hoping not everything was code for sex. “I mean, if I asked you for more hot water, that doesn’t have anything to do with sex.”

  “I bet Scarlett Johansson could make that about sex. You actually used the word hot. We’re halfway there.”

  I just shook my head at him. I wasn’t going to let John derail Date Four before the poor guy even got here.

  “I’ll be right over there.” John pointed to the counter, as if he’d magically become my body guard, or in case I thought he might be somewhere else—like shopping in New York or something.

  I settled into the chair, picking up the coffee table book that had appeared in the last few days. It was a photo documentary of coffee bean farms in South America. The colors were remarkable, along with the gorgeous landscapes. It was easy to lose myself in the pages.

  Finally, Date Four showed up about fifteen minutes late, looking like he’d been chased by the paparazzi. Disheveled, dark glasses…all he needed was a trench coat.

  “Sarah? Sorry I’m late. Parking was crazy.” It never dawned on me someone would drive the two miles instead of jumping on the train.

  “No problem. You must be Hank. It’s great to meet you.” I folded the coffee table book up and slid it back onto the table. “Do you want to grab something to drink?”

  “That’s okay.” He settled into the chair next to me.

  I couldn’t help but be a little annoyed. I knew he was late, but John was trying to run a business here. Instead, Hank angled the chair toward me, shifting it so the arms were touching.

  “So, Sarah, did you have a good weekend? What did you do?”

  The soft step-in was different. Usually guys asked more about work or something on my profile or if I was enjoying eLove. Not something as normal as what I did that weekend.

  It immediately put me at ease. John was wrong. This wasn’t all about sex. This guy was actually trying to get to know me, not just my shiny profile.

  “I went out and saw my best friend. She moved to the suburbs, so it’s a bit of a trip. And I saw the new Bond movie. Always a treat.”

  Look at me nonchalantly tossing out my action movie preference. The dating books had said to shy away from mentioning chick flicks or anything too girly. Granted, a few hours staring at one of the hottest men on the silver screen wasn’t exactly non-girly…but I loved when they blew stuff up too.

  “Did you like it? I wasn’t sure I was going to with how they’re stepping further away from the classics.”

  “It was great. Just enough of the old-school polish to feel like a Bond movie, but enough updates to keep it interesting.”

  Hank dove into a conversation about his favorite James Bonds over the years. He knew Sean Connery wasn’t the first and argued Moore wasn’t the worst. It was great to just relax and chat about something more comfortable than where I saw myself in five years.

  I was beginning to think casual was the right way to start things—to not be looking for Mr. Serious Right Now. All the other dates felt like interviews next to this.

  “I have to say, you’re much prettier than I expected.”

  “Really?” I thought I looked exactly like the three pictures I’d picked out. Jane tried to get me to post one from her wedding, but I’d been professionally done up for the event. It felt like false advertising.

  “I’ve found women—normal women—are pretty honest in their profiles.”

  “How do you define not normal?”

  “I’m not really into high maintenance girls.”

  “So, I’m not high maintenance. That’s usually a plus.”

  “For me it is.” He sat back and stretched out, his arms spanning across the back of the chair next to his. “I know some guys like all the drama of a high maintenance woman and the type of relationship that brings. But personally, I just want someone I can be myself with.”

  “I know—”

  It might have been how empty The Brew was. Or it might have been how the door slammed against the wall really hard, but my attention jerked to the woman silhouetted in its frame.

  “Oh, hell no.” The strained, shrill voice filled the room as the woman marched toward us.

  Next to me, Hank leapt to his feet and turned to face her as she barreled through the café, pushing chairs out of her way instead of weaving around them.

  “Who the hell is this?” She jabbed a finger my direction.

  I was beginning to get the idea I was in the middle of a very heated, very old war.

  This wasn’t looking like the best place to be standing right now.

  “I’m Sarah.” I offered my hand, trying to smooth out whatever was going on.

  “Sarah? Sarah Home-Wrecker? Is that your full name? Then you just go standing there smiling at me and think I’ll shake your hand? You think that’s how it works?”

  She started to make her way around my chair, but I shifted to keep it between us—a barrier of wood-framed cotton.

  “I’m sorry. I’m not really sure what’s going on here.”

  But I was afraid I had a decent idea.

  “Adultery. That’s what. You think you can just date another woman’s husband and it’s okay?”

  “Absolutely not. I just met him online. This is our first get-together. He told me he was single.”

  “Sure he did.”

  I glanced at Hank as I edged away from both of them, trying to get around the oversized coffee table. John was gone, but his new teen was leaning against the counter, her chin propped on both hands.

  “I swear. I did not know he was married. I’m looking for a guy of my own. I wouldn’t share one and I definitely wouldn’t steal one.”

  Hank still stood there, off to the side, looking like a deer who knew what was coming behind the headlights.

  “Tell her.” I picked up my napkin and threw it at him to get his attention. “Tell her you lied to me and we just met today.”

  “I didn’t really lie to you.”

  What? What was wrong with these people?

  “I very clearly remember asking if you were single.”

  “No.” Hank crossed his arms, giving me a look that said he thought this was my fault. “You asked me if I was dating anyone.”

  I was going to kill him myself.

  “Okay, let me clarify. When a woman asks you if you’re dating—or seeing—someone, she’s asking if you’re single.” I picked up the spoon that had been sitting on the napkin I’d just thrown at him. Then I threw the spoon at him too. “Here’s a clue Einstein—married is not single.”

  Just as
my voice started to rise, the woman jumped over the table and grabbed my arm.

  “Don’t you throw things at him. You don’t get to throw things at him.” She shook me and, as her free hand came up, I snapped out of it just in time to dodge her slap.

  Both my arms came up to block my face, taking the blow across my wrists. And then a second one.

  “Hey! I’m not the one cheating on you! I don’t even know you.”

  I blocked another swing.

  “Ruth!”

  You’d think it would be Hank who stepped in to get her under control. You’d be wrong. Another woman pounded through the doorway, her walk brisk, her attention focused.

  The third blow never came as the woman, Ruth, turned toward the voice.

  “Sounds like this isn’t the girl’s fault.” The second woman stopped next to Ruth, looking me over. “Not worth your time. Neither is this worthless boy who can’t manage to stay faithful for more than a week at a go.”

  “Drea,” Hank finally spoke up. Glaring down at the new woman, he took a step toward her. “I told you to stay out of our marriage. Your sister doesn’t need you barging in all the time and shaking the hornet’s nest.”

  “I’m not shaking anything. You’re a cheating S.O.B. She needs to get as far away from you as possible.”

  “Drea, please.” Ruth’s voice had softened, almost to a pleading level. “Don’t upset him. I just want things to go back the way they were.”

  “When, Ruth? When do you want them to go back to? He’s been cheating on you since you met him. There’re no good times to go back to. There’s only the time before you knew. Is that what you want? You want to just not know? If that’s it, then you need to quit following him and checking his email and his phone. If you just want to not know, stop looking. But if you think there’s a time to go back to when he was completely faithful, then you’re deluded.”

  I stepped back again, hoping to fade into the background, but afraid to draw attention to myself if I tried to walk away.

  Plus, walking away would mean turning my back on the crazy people.

  Speaking of which—I glanced toward the counter. Abby-the-Trainee still stood there enraptured by the drama unrolling in front of her. All she needed was popcorn. And yet, still no John.