Brew Ha Ha Box Set: Books 1-4

by Bria Quinlan

  “You look like you gained five pounds in your face over Christmas. What exactly did you eat?” Abby stood behind the counter, eyeing me as if I was trying to slip something past her.

  “I’m sorry. Mom, is that you?”

  “Whatever.” She turned around and started putting my tea tray together while I stripped my coat and mittens off and hung them over a chair by the fire.

  Glancing around, I was surprised to take in three filled tables. This was exactly the holiday cheer John needed for his business.

  “Where’s John?”

  “Do I look like his keeper?”

  “Kind of. You definitely like to keep track of everyone’s business.”

  “Fine. He’s out back doing something on his computer.”

  Huh. Probably some Numbers Guy finance stuff to reboot his new year.

  I paid for my tea and carried the tray to my regular chair. On the coffee table was a little sign that said Reserved at 3pm. How sweet.

  I checked out the art wall and saw someone had added a sign-up sheet for the artist’s mailing list. I wished I’d thought of that myself. There were even two names on it that weren’t John, Sarah, or Abby, so huge win.

  Five of three, I settled into my chair to wait. If I’d learned anything over the last four weeks, it was patience was key in the process. You waited to see if anyone contacted you. If you Whistled or Messaged first, you waited to hear back. You waited to hear back again once you returned their message. Then you waited more. Then you waited to see if they’d want to talk. Then you waited to see if they wanted to get together. Even if you were the person suggesting it, you waited for an answer. Then you waited for them to show up.

  I’d probably waited twenty hours this month.

  That was roughly the amount of time a new exhibit took me to set up.

  Food for thought.

  At five past, I started to wonder. No one but Married Guy Hank had been late, and Dave just didn’t strike me as the rude or thoughtless type.

  At ten past, John wandered out and perched on the arm of the chair next to me.

  “So, Date Five. Your final Crayon.”

  Some things you never live down.

  I glanced at my phone to check the time and saw my email alert. I knew it was bad news as soon as I saw Dave’s email address.

  Sarah,

  I’m so sorry to back out on you at the last minute. I realized as I was about to leave I’m just not ready to start dating. I’ve really enjoyed our chats and I’m sure if I’d shown up I would have left hoping we could be friends. I know that wasn’t the point. So, I’ll wish you luck and know whoever snaps you up is a luckier man than I.

  Best,

  Dave

  What does it say that one of the sweetest things a guy had said to me in years was a brush off letter?

  “It can’t be that bad?” John slid into the chair and started to lean in to look at the email before stopping himself. “No one’s puppy died, right?”

  “No. No puppy. Just my hope for the future.”

  “Your guy died?” Now he leaned in and snatched the phone. “Who even knew to email you?”

  “He didn’t die.” I fought an eye roll and then gave in. He deserved it. “He canceled.”

  John read the email and grimaced. “I need a copy of this. If I ever dump a girl without actually going out with her, this is perfect.”

  “Are you saying I’m not great?”

  “Um. No. Of course not. You’re awesome. Really awesome.”

  “Yeah. Uh-huh.”

  “Don’t let the Dates bring you down.” I thought he was going to wave a fist in the air.

  “Maybe I should try one last time. Or just ask Jane to set me up with someone for the night. Just be straight with the guy and admit I need a boyfriend for the night. But it feels horrible and stupid to have a fake date.” I sighed as I reread Dave’s email. “I’d feel like such a loser.”

  John handed me my phone and leaned back, settling in for what was probably going to be a long lecture.

  “Do you really need a guy to enjoy your night? Does it matter that much? We just established you’re awesome.”

  “I am totally awesome.”

  “So, why do you need a guy for this? What do you really need to prove to those girls?”

  “Well, I’d been telling them I was seeing someone since November. I’ve kind of painted myself into a corner.”

  John watched me, that yeah-so-what look on his face.

  “I know. It’s my own fault.” I said before he could agree with me. “I was being prideful and look where it got me. But I panicked. You don’t know what it’s like.”

  My voice had risen, causing people on the other side of the room to look our way.

  “What what’s like?”

  “To be her. That girl. The last single girl. Your close friends are paired off. Your not so close friends are paired off. Your acquaintances are paired off. The people you know casually who you don’t even like are paired off. And everyone just looks at you like…Like you’re a failure and a loser. Mothers lecture. Aunts lecture. Women you barely know say things like Bless your heart or There’s someone out there for everyone, even you. Seriously? I can’t be her. I can’t be the last single girl.”

  “Sarah, after hearing about these girls, I can tell you one sounds nice, one seems okay, and one sounds like a man’s worst nightmare. Now, next to a really awesome person, none of those girls look very good.”

  I smiled, trying not to cry at his kind words or my sick feeling of defeat. I wrapped my hand around his where it rested on the chair’s arm. “John, you’re seriously one of the best people I know. Now, I’m going home to panic.” I gave his hand a squeeze and stood. “Thanks for everything.”

  “You’re going to stop by on your way, right? Abby and I want to see you all dressed up.” He rose and walked me out. “Maybe get some pictures. Just like prom, only with twenties garb and drinking.”

  “And no date.”

  John just shook his head at me. “You’re a mess. A really nice mess, but still.”

  I headed out, slightly relieved for the dating part to be over. I was done with the crazies. The only one allowed to drive me nuts was my own subconscious. She was doing a good enough job for everyone.

  12

  DATING TRUTH #7: Wine. Lots of Wine.

  “We’re back here!”

  I made my way back to the creamy yellow kitchen where Jane stirred away at something on the stove while Dahlia played on a bright mat near the glass door.

  “It’s just us tonight. Matt went to watch the game with his guys.”

  “You mean you threw him out so we could have girl’s night in.”

  “Yes. That’s what marriage is all about. Knowing when to throw your spouse out and the spouse knowing to leave.”

  I’m pretty sure she was kidding.

  “Here.” She handed me a bottle of white wine. “Open that puppy up. It’s perfect for the salmon. And while you do, I want a rundown of the online dating mission.”

  “Don’t you want to know about my holidays? Or tell me about whatever run-in you had with your mother-in-law? Or about what people bought Dahlia for Christmas?”

  “Nope. None of the above. Online dating for two-thousand, Alec.”

  I’d known it was going to come down to that, but I thought we’d ease into it. At least let me drink a little wine first.

  But once Jane got an idea in her head, there was no getting it out, so over a glass of wine—okay, two—I gave her a summary of each date. In retrospect, they were funny. From the near perfect to the near homicidal, I’d had quite a run.

  “Tell me more about this John guy.”

  “John? What about him?”

  “I don’t know. How old is he? How tall is he? Does he have all his hair?”

  “Wow, Jane. Superficial much?” I loved her like a sister, but the getting-on-John-about-his-looks thing wasn’t cool.

  “No. Not superficial. But it’s the
only thing I don’t know about him and I feel like I must be missing something.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She looked at me like I might be a moron, then shook her head as if she’d finally decided I was.

  “All night it’s been John this and John that. John makes me this tea. John threw the guy out. John loved my Christmas present…which by the way, where the heck is my Christmas gift? This John guy got something and I didn’t? And he sounds nice and funny and smart. He’s successful and well off and gave up a high power career to do something he loves. He’s close to his family and spoils his nephews and nieces? Am I forgetting anything?”

  Well, no. And when she put it like that, he sounded pretty darn great.

  “Right,” Jane went on. “So, he must be old or fat or ugly or smelly or short or something really unattractive. What’s wrong with him?”

  “Well…” I racked my brain trying to give her an answer she’d accept. “He just got out of a relationship a few months ago.”

  “You told me about that. The stupid ex-girlfriend who was looking to be part of a power couple.” Jane waved her hand as if I’d brought up something insignificant. “What else could it be? You’re just not attracted to him?”

  “I…That is, John is…” I tried to put words around it, around John, but all I could come up with were positives. “He’s thirty or thirty-one. About three inches taller than me. He has all this hair. It just does whatever it wants. I’m betting his admin was in charge of reminding him to cut it. He runs his hands through it and it just stands on end. Of course he doesn’t smell funny. He smells like lemon. Probably because of work. There’s nothing wrong with him. It’s just…”

  “What?”

  “He’s John.” As soon as the words left my mouth I panicked. “Oh my gosh. He’s John.”

  All the hairs on my arm stood up as heat rushed over my skin. Jane must have seen the panic because she poured me a third glass of wine.

  “Jane. How could you do this to me?”

  “Sarah…”

  “Don’t Sarah me. How am I going to face him? Everything was fine until you pointed this out. What if I’m falling in love with him?” I sucked in a breath. “Oh no. I think he’s dating someone.”

  “What? How can he be dating someone? You never mentioned that.”

  “It didn’t matter thirty seconds ago!”

  Did she not understand what she’d done?

  “Okay. Back up. What makes you think he’s dating someone?”

  “When I asked him about online dating, he said he’d rather try the old-fashioned way first. And, lately he’s been out back on the phone or his laptop whenever I come in. Just in the last few weeks.”

  “That doesn’t mean he’s dating someone.”

  “He also made a crack about needing Date Five’s email brushing me off in case he ever didn’t show up for a date.”

  “Still, that could have just been a joke.”

  “And he talks to someone on the phone he calls sweetheart. Who the heck is this sweetheart chick?” My voice jumped up another octave and Dahlia looked at me like I was a confusing new toy. “Plus, through all this, he’s never asked me out. And he knows how desperate I am for someone to go to the New Year’s thing with. That would have been a perfect chance. But he didn’t suggest it. And he said he has to close early New Year’s. He must already have plans.”

  “Oh. Well, that stinks.”

  “Jane.” What was I going to do? How was I going to go back in there and face him with all these swirly feelings? This was a disaster. And when she started coming in for all those dinners by the fire and working or reading while he closed up, how was I going to stick around for that? And Abby had only insulted me once this week. That was progress. I was going to lose it all. There was no way I was going to watch him get serious with someone.

  “Come on. You said he wasn’t your type. Too soft. And all that hair.”

  “I like his hair.” Oh no. I like his hair. I was doomed. Doomed.

  I pictured cool autumn nights, walking from the gym after work to the cozy chairs by the fire. Ordering in different meals. Or maybe occasionally trying to cook something and testing it out on him. Games and books and conversation and coffee. Bringing my work I’d do at home and tucking myself into a corner. All of it centered around John.

  It sounded delightful.

  I was more than doomed. I was whatever came after doomed.

  I needed a romance time machine to get rid of this epiphany. Or maybe just more wine. I laid my head on my arms and tried to think of anything but John.

  “Here.” Jane opened a new bottle and filled my glass.

  What were best friends for?

  13

  DATING TRUTH #8: When faced with the man of your dreams, the only thing to do is play it cool. Or at least play dumb.

  I sucked in a deep, cold breath before pushing my way into The Brew Ha Ha.

  Everything would be fine. Everything would be the same. Nothing would be different. I would not act like a complete idiot.

  Or, at least, that’s what I’d been telling myself all the way over.

  Inside, Abby and John were cleaning out the brewers, getting ready for their early close.

  “Hey guys.” I stood back, afraid to approach. I didn’t want them to see how nervous I was. All it would take was one of Abby’s comments and I was dead in the water.

  “You’re here.” John climbed down off his step ladder to come around the counter. “Let’s see your Roaring Twenties look.”

  Sadly, I’d put a lot of thought into this. When Claire had suggested the dinner months ago, I’d been excited to go just for the excuse to buy a flapper dress. And since I was going to crash and burn on every other level tonight, I went all out—the dress, the shoes, the beads. I’d even had my hair and make-up done. The stylist had tucked my hair so it looked like I’d gotten a bob.

  I was looking pretty good if I did say so myself.

  “Did you cut your hair?” He looked a bit shocked. Or maybe it just reminded him he hadn’t had his cut in a few months.

  “No, it’s just the way it’s done.”

  “Oh. Good. You look great. Are you carrying a flask in your garter?”

  “A girl never tells these things.” I gave him a wink, figuring if I just hammed it up I’d stop feeling like I was going to confess my newfound feelings any second.

  “Did you decide to borrow a guy from your friend Jane?”

  Even I was surprised at the laugh that rushed out of me. “Nope. I decided instead to deal with Claire and just get over her. And it.”

  “Good for you.” John glanced toward Abby, probably to make sure no snide comments were coming my way. “So, tell me, where is this party?”

  “It’s in the ballroom at the historic house over on Lake.”

  “I’ve always wanted to see it. We had a corporate event there, but I was stuck at work.” He shook his head, probably remembering, then glanced around the shop. “Man, I totally love my life now.”

  It took everything in me not to ask if it was because of his new girlfriend.

  Back on topic.

  “Getting to see the house is part of the reason I wanted to go. I hear they have an awesome private gallery. Maybe I can get a security guard drunk and flirt my way in.”

  “I’m sure you could do it. Or you could just give him your card and ask to see it. Probably less police involved that way.”

  “Oh, John. Always the voice of reason.”

  “It’s true. A burden I have to carry throughout my days.” He wiped his hands on the ever present towel and nodded his head toward the counter. “Want some tea? You’re running a little early, aren’t you?”

  “I can’t. I promised to stop by work after I was dressed. They’re having a New Year’s Eve event. We’re renting the space out, so I don’t have to work it, but they wanted me to just come in and make sure everything was going like it should.”

  “They’re going to love your new
look.”

  “I’m tempted to buy a few more. Maybe I can bring the beaded mini-dress back.”

  I stood there, grinning up at him like an idiot—noticing his hair and his dimple and the freckles on the bridge of his nose and the flecks of green surprising me in his brown eyes. Just noticing.

  “So…” John’s eyebrows lifted, probably in an unspoken Why are you looking at me like that? Please stop and back away quirk.

  “Right. So, I should get to work. And then off to face the vultures.”

  “It’s going to be fine.” He sounded so sure.

  “I wish I had your confidence.”

  “It’s easy to be confident. I’ve watched you handle everything short of a natural disaster with all those dates. If you could get through those, then tonight is going to be a piece of cake.”

  When put like that, I almost believed him.

  Now it was just a matter of embracing my singleness and telling Claire where she could put her cat claws.

  14

  DATING TRUTH #9: I am woman, hear me roar.

  That’s right, do not tick me off.

  While my cab waited its turn, I watched the line ahead of me as one made-up person after another climbed out and handed over their keys or paid off the cabbie. It was going to be a long night. I’d thought about getting there late or, at the very least, right as things were starting. Leave as little room for all the smug Claire comments and group pity as possible.

  But then I got annoyed. Annoyed at Claire. Annoyed at the other girls for not standing up to her. Annoyed at myself for caring, for not standing up for myself. Annoyed it mattered that I was it. That everyone else was ready to climb on Noah’s ark and I was the last of my kind. Just like the poor unicorn.

  The point of having friends was not just to have people to do stuff with, but to have people who had your back. Who were there for you.

  I may have been the Last Single Girl, but I had been for longer than I realized. The Alphabet didn’t count because I’d never let myself get close to Becca and Angie because of Claire.