Brew Ha Ha Box Set: Books 1-4

by Bria Quinlan

  “I’m sure I can make it work.” I glanced at my email, waiting for the ding letting me know he’d emailed me back. I saw a long day of hitting refresh in front of me. “Thanks, Jenna. I really appreciate you doing this.”

  “Hey, what are friends for?”

  I got to work on the final touches of my website and the brochure I’d need to print out if I was going to bring it with me to a face-to-face. One thing I did know about high ranking, eccentric clients: They wanted all the info and they wanted to be able to look at it over and over again.

  I focused on getting it perfect. On getting it done. I focused on my pitch and my plan. I focused on what I could wear and how I would sell myself.

  I focused on everything but Max Darby.

  And that was probably for the best.

  John had a dinner meeting downtown with out-of-town clients the next night but wanted to meet in the lounge beforehand to have a preliminary discussion.

  The great news was I could write it off. The not so great news was I had to dress up.

  I wandered through the hotel lobby and into the lounge, glad I’d still had a black sheath dress and little sweater for business meetings not packed away. I hadn’t considered I’d still need to wear I’m A Grown-up Clothes now that I was typically working out of a café in yoga pants.

  I did a sweep of the tables at the edge of the room before settling in at the bar to wait. I ordered a diet Coke and set my hand on the small tote bag next to me, comforted by all the materials I’d managed to pull together in two days for this meeting.

  I pulled my little cardigan off and draped it over the bag. I was just discovering I was a nervous sweater—either that or this lounge had suddenly gotten really warm.

  This was the beginning. He was my first real client. Jenna was my fairy godmother so she didn’t count.

  It wasn’t long before a business man sauntered up to the bar and looked at me as if I might be who he was looking for.

  “Hi. Are you looking for me?” I gave him my best smile, trying to make him like me right away. Starting off friendly would make turning me down or bartering with my prices harder. Or at least, that’s what I hoped it would do.

  “I certainly could be.” He smiled back in such a familiar way that I knew we were going to get along just fine.

  “I’m Kasey. Why don’t you have a seat and we can chat a little.”

  “Great.” John pulled out the high stool next to me and waved the bartender over. After ordering a drink he turned back to me, and took in my appearance right down to my shoes. I was really glad I hadn’t shown up in jeans. “So, Kasey, how long have you been doing this?”

  “I’ve just recently gone out on my own. It’s definitely riskier, but you know what they say. Big risks, big wins.”

  He laughed, hopefully not noticing that the entire little speech was one hundred percent panic-driven bravado.

  “Well, I like that. A woman who knows where she’s going.”

  I smiled, because I certainly hoped that was true.

  “I know this seems rude, but being new to this I thought we should discuss it right up front.” With most people, I’d just send them a quote. The idea that I’d have to figure out how to deal with those who wanted to do everything in person was a bit overwhelming. “What are you looking for and how much are you looking to spend?”

  “Wow, Kasey. That is direct. I like having things up front. There’s no point in us getting to the point of no return and then not being on the same page.”

  “Exactly.” Maybe this was going to be easier than I’d expected. “Obviously, the full package is going to be pricier. I mean, just the time involved in doing everything adds to the cost. But covering the basics a la carte can add up as well. I guess what it really comes down to is what’s your pleasure?”

  I smiled, trying to keep this professional but light.

  John took a long sip of his drink, watching me over the rim of his glass.

  I started to feel uncomfortable under the gaze, but assumed he was doing that thing Jenna talked about. That going-into-his-own-head-to-think thing.

  “I mean,” I continued, trying to pull him back to our conversation. “This is all about you and your needs.”

  “You’re right. Of course. It’s all about my needs.” John set his drink down and leaned in. “I want the total package. Soup to nuts. I’m looking forward to seeing you in action.”

  Wow. Jenna must have really talked up my big corporate accounts history.

  “Okay. Then, depending on any theme adjustments I need to make as we go, obviously I’ll be making sure that you like everything I do. I won’t get too far down any path without checking in. My goal is to have you completely happy with my work at the end of the day.” I named an amount. I gave him a smile that hopefully was enticing. “Don’t forget, I was trained by the best.”

  John straightened and ran his gaze over me again as if measuring me to see if I were worth that amount. I let him consider it. I knew what I could do. I’d shot up the corporate ladder because I was very good at what I did, and I knew when a man was trying to make me back down. If he was going to negotiate, that was fine. I’d built in a bit of a buffer, but I wasn’t handing him a discount on a silver platter.

  “That seems…excessive.”

  “You want the best, you have to pay for it. But, I can guarantee you won’t regret it. I may just be branching out on my own, but I’m very good at what I do.”

  That seemed to give him pause.

  “Kasey, are you sure you want to do this? It’s hard enough being a working girl, but doing it on your own isn’t always the safest route.”

  “That’s very sweet.” I reached out and patted his hand even though I knew it crossed the professional line. Or, maybe he just wanted to make sure I was going to be able to follow through. “But, if you’re worried about my follow-through, there’s no need. I’m ready to give you the best service available.”

  He smiled, a little tired, before pulling his wallet out to pay for his drink. Instead, he dropped a thick set of bills on the counter. I wasn’t prepared for someone to give me his down payment in cash.

  What if he wanted to pay all in cash? What if this business of his isn’t on the up and up? I stared at the money a second before picking it up to hand it back to him.

  “There’s no need to give me this now. We can deal with that later.”

  “I’d rather be clear on what we’re doing.”

  I still wasn’t comfortable with this, but the worst thing that happened was I kept the cash in an envelop and gave it back to him if he didn’t like my proposal.

  “Okay. But, we’ll have to arrange some type of guarantee for if this doesn’t work out.” I wasn’t sure what a good protocol in this situation would be. “And obviously, you’re going to want an invoice. It would be best all around if we handled this after the work was done. I’d like a deposit up front to ensure payment, but I’d rather not take cash.”

  John looked at me like this was an odd idea. He must really not be used to working with vendors. Maybe his new company was newer than I thought.

  “So,” he started as if not sure where this was going. Then, he pushed the money toward me again. “That’s your payment, and you’re going to give me the total package.”

  “Well,” I tried to stall, trying to figure out how to get us back on track. “Let me show you my samples first. I want to make sure we can work together.” I reached for my bag to pull out the shiny pamphlet I’d brought. “There’s no reason to even talk about money before we do that.”

  “But, that’s the amount?”

  “Unless you add something on or change your mind, it’s the amount I quoted.”

  “Okay. Kasey, I need you to stand up.”

  “Why?” Even for how odd Jenna had said he was, that seemed out there.

  “Because I’m going to arrest you for solicitation and I don’t want you to cause a scene if at all possible. We’re just going to stand up and walk ri
ght out of here to where my partner is waiting.”

  “Solicitation? I wasn’t soliciting. We had a pre-arranged meeting.” As if I’d be going door-to-door at a high end hotel.

  “Prostitution is illegal no matter how you find the John. Now, are we going to do this the nice way or are you going to risk embarrassing yourself, the patrons, and the establishment?” John stood, pushing his stool out of the way. “Let’s just take this out the front door politely. I always add it into my report when the lady cooperates.”

  “But, I’m not a prostitute.”

  “Honey, you just agreed to give me the total package for an equally obscene amount of money.”

  “Total marketing package. I was meeting someone here to show him my web designs.” I spun around to pull out my brochure, glad to finally get to show it to someone.

  “Keep your hands where I can see them.” John’s voice went frigid. Gone was the charm and the smiles. It dawned on me he wasn’t joking around.

  This was not how I wanted to add to my recent cop run-ins. This was worse than any law-type thing I could think of. Including that little spring break run-in that shall not to be discussed.

  “John, I’m serious. I was here for a business meeting.”

  “It’s Officer Grant, and you can explain it to the booking agent downtown.”

  Downtown? Did people actually say that? Do we even have a downtown? I ran through all the neighborhoods I could think of but I don’t think I’d ever heard anyone actually refer to a downtown.

  He wrapped his oversized hand around my wrist, pulled me off the stool, and all thoughts of where we were going fled.

  “Can I grab my sweater and bag?” After that hands where I can see them thing, I wasn’t taking any chances.

  “Grab it. You’ll hand the bag to my partner outside. You can put the sweater on if you want.” He looked at me, a little sadly like I’d disappointed him. “You shouldn’t have gone off on your own. It’s better to learn this lesson now.”

  Great. I was getting arrested for not being a prostitute, and he was lecturing me that I should have at least stayed with my pimp. I guess if I had a pimp at least I’d have someone to come bail me out.

  28

  I stared around the small, barred room trying to figure out where to go. You’d think with only a ten-by-ten area it wouldn’t be too difficult of a decision. But, the far wall had two women leaning against it deep in a conversation I definitely didn’t want to know about. Along each side of the holding cell were bunks. A girl stretched out on one, her pink thong clearly flashing the room of cops with her feet up like that. On the other, a woman in a bustier and a hot pink skirt sat examining her nails. I considered sitting at the other end, but there was a stain that…well, let’s just say there was a stain and leave it at that.

  I squeezed myself between the bed frame and the bars in the empty corner and hoped for the best.

  The officer had told me he’d come back once my paperwork was processed and let me make my phone call. He’d kept asking me if I wanted a lawyer. I think he wanted me to have a lawyer. Where the heck was I going to get a lawyer, let alone how would I pay him?

  But, who would I call?

  I leaned my head against the bars, trying not to panic and wondering who to call. The only people I had in my phone were Jenna, Hailey, and people far, far away.

  If I called Jenna or Hailey, they’d call Max. Of course, they would. If I were them, I’d call Max too.

  But, then he’d be there, on the other side of this metal ringed room looking at me with that look, the one that said he was disappointed, annoyed, and exasperated with me.

  But more, I pictured him giving up on me. All that chaos he said I created, the words he’d spoken to Jenna back before I’d known he wasn’t someone to fear. Now he’d see them as true. He’d see me as that high maintenance, chaos creating, liability who would hold someone like him back. To a man who wanted to save, if not the world at least his corner of it, I’d be the train wreck running his life’s work off the rails.

  For the first time that night, I felt like crying. I felt stupid and short sighted and hopeless. How in the world could I compare a man who demanded to make dinner for me when I was hurt with that manipulative quasi-sociopath jackass I’d been tied to for years?

  It figured that I’d wake up to what was right in front of me the moment I might lose it. I couldn’t imagine how Max would feel about me being arrested. If I couldn’t clear myself, I’d never find out. I’d never even put him on the spot. I’d never take the risk for my heart, and I’d never make him tell me that, no, he wouldn’t date a girl like me.

  I was now a girl like me.

  If I could clear myself, I’d be lucky if he’d still speak to me.

  Hopefully, there was a small chance I could get out of here without him knowing. Officer Grant had driven past the precinct closest to The Village. I could only hope that my mug shot wasn’t being blasted to all the stations in town.

  “Ooooh, sugar. It’s shift change. All those cute young’uns will be coming in wearing those tight little blue pants.”

  The women behind me wandered over to the bars, setting themselves up in a line to watch the parade that was shift change. It was nice to know even ladies of the night couldn’t resist a man in uniform.

  If only I hadn’t tried to for so long.

  I tried to squeeze out of my corner, but no one was moving to let me by for fear of losing her space at the bars.

  It was an odd, surreal power and role reversal that began the moment the first cop stepped through the door.

  The ladies were right. This batch was young—all in their twenties. And their pants were definitely blue, some were even tight. But, each one reacted to the cat calls and whistles differently. Some ignored them, some blushed and turned away, some played it up. But none—not even the one who had probably never been able to run an eight minute mile—were left out. These women didn’t prejudice based on race, looks, height, build…on anything.

  “Oh, here comes one of my favorites. I’m telling you, I even got me that there Twitter to hear about him. Even just scraping past five-ten that boy’s got some shoulders on him.”

  As soon as I heard the word Twitter I tried to leap over the crossbar of the bunk blocking me into the corner. There was no way with the week I was having there could be another local cop people followed on Twitter. It could only be—

  “Tuesday?”

  I took a deep sigh and turned back around to face Max striding across the room.

  “Honey, you know Officer Max?” The larger girl with the neon fingernails looked me up and down like I’d just gained a bit of street cred.

  “He tried to arrest me a few times last week.” What else was I going to say? It was oddly true.

  “Tuesday, what the hell are you doing in there?” Max wrapped his hand around the bar just above mine and glared at the women who’d all pushed closer so they wouldn’t miss anything. “Ladies, I need a minute here.”

  “Ohhh, you don’t have to tell me twice, Officer Hottie. I shoulda known you’d only be giving time to those lobby girls. Once you workin’ out under the streetlights…pfft. No worries.” They all followed Neon Nails’ lead and stepped back a whole foot.

  Max kept glaring, but when he realized they weren’t going anywhere—because, really, where the heck were they going to go—he turned back to me. “What the hell are you doing in there?”

  “Ms. Lane is being charged with solicitation.” The mean cop didn’t even look my way.

  “Honey, you gave them your real name. Don’t you never give your real name. You picked a pretty little street name. Tuesday. I’m going to have to remember me that one.”

  I laid my head against the bars and closed my eyes. I guess I had a street name. That was something.

  “Tue—Kasey, look at me. What’s going on?”

  There was no reason not to share. It wasn’t like he didn’t know I was in jail at this point.

  “Jenna met
this guy—”

  “Jenna. Of course.”

  “He saw her showing a friend the new site I built for her with all the branding stuff and he was really impressed. So, Jenna got his email address and we’d arranged to meet in the lounge at the Plaza between his meetings and a dinner thing he had with some out-of-town clients. Just go over the basics. Only this guy walked up to me and when I asked if he was there for me, he sat right down.”

  “So, you asked him if his name was John?” At this point, Max’s eyes were doing that twinkle thing that happened right before his super-powered-dimple came out.

  Did I?

  “If you laugh at me, Max Darby, you’ll regret it. They have to let me out of here eventually.”

  “Right. So this John guy sits down and you ask him if he wants to get a room?”

  “Darby, I’m processing this one.” John’s partner had taken over as soon as I’d gotten out of the lobby. He’d been nowhere near as nice and he was just getting worse. “I think I can ask the questions here.”

  Max just gave him a look and turned back to me. “So, then what happened?”

  “Then he started asking for prices so I told him what I was charging for a total package and a la carte and I’d do whatever I could to please him.”

  “Exactly how much did you convince him you were worth?”

  I gave him a number and Max glanced over his shoulder, giving the other cop a look that clearly said, Seriously?

  “Hey. If I were for sale, I’m sure I’d be worth a lot. Maybe not like Beacon Hill Brownstone a lot, but at least a river view amount.”

  Max snorted at that point and I considered reaching my hands through the bars and wrapping them around his tanned, corded neck.

  “What happened when you explained?”

  “They wouldn’t let me. I tried to show them my brochure, but every time I reached for my bag they just shouted, keep your hands where I can see them. And then they took my bag.”

  Max turned toward the mean, pushy cop, and I swear I saw him roll his eyes.

  “Did you look in her bag and verify that she wasn’t trying to sell you a website?”