Brew Ha Ha Box Set: Books 1-4

by Bria Quinlan

  “Did you make detective while I wasn’t looking?”

  “Nope. But I did get this special Boy Scout badge for common sense. I heard they only handed out two that year.”

  “Are you saying I made a bad arrest?” Now, the guy looked like he was going to go for Max’s throat for me.

  “I’m saying you’re an idiot and if you don’t get her out of that cell right now—”

  “Don’t make threats you’ll regret.”

  “I won’t regret it. You didn’t let a confused, honest woman make an explanation. You probably walked her right into the charge without anything explicit.” Max leaned in, like he was going to go after the other guy. “I’m really hoping you taped this collar, because her lawyer is going to love that. And then you throw her in a holding cell as if she was a criminal.”

  “I don’t have lawyer,” I whispered under their argument.

  Max shot me a glare that was particularly hostile considering I’d become used to his typical scowls.

  “She is a criminal.”

  “Let. Her. Out. Now.”

  “You walk around here like you’re the station’s gift to the world. I’m reporting you to Internal Affairs. You can’t walk in here and order me around. I think you’re confused about the pecking order Officer Max. If you think I’m going—”

  “Get her out or I will be the first person they call to the stand when she sues the city and you personally for wrongful arrest and detainment.”

  I reached through the bars and touched Max’s shoulder trying to get his attention. Trying to calm him down.

  Officer Vernane spun toward me, spitting as he shouted. “Get your freaking hands in the cell before I add accosting an officer to the charges.”

  I yanked my hand back through the bar, watching it shake in front of me. How had this gotten worse?

  “Vernane. Darby. What is going on in my station?” An older man in a crumpled button down, the sleeves rolled to his elbows, stomped across the room, intent on the two men in front of me. “I have to hear you two are about to come to blows over a hooker while I’m meeting with the mayor’s assistant?”

  “I’m not a hooker.” No one looked my way.

  “She’s not a hooker.” Max repeated.

  “Darn it, sweetheart,” Neon Nails chimed in. “I thought we were finally classing up the joint. Maybe you want to start working with us. Show us how you wrap a man like that around your pinky.”

  “Oooohhh, Sharlene. Look at her. You know what’s wrapping Officer Max.” The ladies laughed as Max turned bright red and I fought back more tears.

  The boss guy looked toward us, then back at Max and the detective.

  “Vernane?”

  “Markson picked her up in a lounge. She offered him services for money.”

  I watched Max’s hands curl into tight fists at his sides, but he didn’t move a muscle beyond that.

  “Is this true, miss?” The man looked at me, his gaze running over my outfit and the way I’d managed to shove myself in that tight corner where no one could get to me.

  “Kind of.”

  “Kind of is not an answer I’d take on the stand.”

  “I was offering to build him a website. That’s what my services are. I do corporate branding and just started running my own business. I was meeting with a man I’d only emailed with before.”

  I’d hoped just saying it all out loud would magically open the cell. No such luck.

  “Darby?”

  “Kasey is a friend. She’s subletting my best friend’s apartment. She builds websites. She’s doing one for Jenna right now. Actually, it’s Jenna who hooked her up with this John guy.”

  “Oh, Jenna.” The boss guy’s face softened into a smile. “How’s our girl? I loved that kitten thing she did to you a few weeks ago. Some of those little sayings the kids post are a riot.”

  I watched Max struggle with not arguing.

  “Um. Right.” Max pulled it together before he could get derailed by the Hashtag Situation. “So Jenna sent her to this meeting and there was some miscommunication.”

  The boss guy looked at me, a little nicer now that pixie Jenna’s name was being thrown around. Seriously. My fairy godmother.

  Except for the fact that I was here because of her in the first place.

  “How do we get from building websites to sex upstairs?”

  That was an excellent question.

  Everyone turned and looked at me as if I was the one who had planned to have sex upstairs.

  “I don’t know, sir. I was talking about website and branding packages and next thing I know the guy’s trying to give me cash. I told him not to give me the money before we made a deal, but he wouldn’t take it back. I told him he could give me a deposit, but was confused that he didn’t want an invoice. Then he was telling me to walk out nice and calm and not make a scene. He was very polite about it, but he wouldn’t let me show him my brochures.”

  The girls behind me snickered.

  “You didn’t take the money?” Max leaned forward, his gaze turning slowly as he pivoted toward Detective Vernane. “Is that right, jackass? She wouldn’t take the money?”

  “She said she’d take it upstairs.”

  “I did not!” I started to reach through the bars again to Max and stopped. “I said I’d take the money once we came to an agreement on our deal.”

  “She didn’t deny the deal.” Detective Markson was on his feet now.

  “She didn’t take the money. No money, no clear defined service, no action…no arrest. I’m sorry, I’m just a beat cop, but I vaguely remember in college that being called something like entrapment…or was it wrongful arrest? There’s just so many things going on here I’m confused about what the real issue is.”

  Max was leaning against the bars now, doing that cocky pose he did that typically was aimed at me and ticked me off. I let my hand curl around the bar he leaned against, skimming across his lower back and taking comfort from the heat radiating off him. He shifted, pressing against it. I felt his confidence seep into me and set my trust in it. Max was many things. One of those was a man I was beginning to set my complete trust in.

  Outside my cell, the three men faced off. Max looking cocky, Detective Vernane looking like he was going to punch Max, the boss looking as if he wanted to fire both of them and quit.

  And they were the ones in charge of my future. I’d somehow managed to hand my fate over to a man—well, three men—again.

  29

  I walked out of the station and down the front steps, trying to get my bearings on where I was and how I was supposed to get back to my new home. Beside me, Max stood, my tote over his shoulder, watching me.

  I was pretty much done for the night—maybe the whole week. There was nothing more lowering than being arrested for something you didn’t do. Especially prostitution. Why couldn’t I have been arrested for corporate espionage or recklessly parachuting off a skyscraper or something cool?

  “Okay. Well. Thanks. I really appreciate your help.” I reached for my bag, desperately needing to make a quick escape. More embarrassed than I’d been in my entire life. I had no idea how I was going to face him after this. I couldn’t even face him now. I could feel the heat climbing up my neck and hoped I didn’t look splotchy under the horrible 1940’s lights framing the station’s doors.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Home.”

  Max just looked at me as if he’d expected something else, or something more. But, I wasn’t sure what to say. I just knew I was completely freaked out and looking at him made me want to crawl into his arms and hide my face in his chest and hope he wouldn’t brush me off him like dryer lint.

  And, it was too late. I knew it was too late. He’d told Jenna he had no interest in dating someone like me, someone who could end up in jail at any minute.

  And now, I’d put him on the spot. Max would never have left me in there. Who knew what they’d do to him now? The kitten posters everywhere would look lik
e nothing when they were done with him if this turned into an Officer Darby is Dating a Hooker thing. Especially since the captain guy made it clear he missed #OfficerMax and had pointedly asked when Jenna would be doing another one.

  Max just looked at me, waiting for who knows what, before shaking his head and handing me my belongings.

  “You know what, Kasey? You’re on your own.”

  Um…okay? What?

  I just looked at him trying to figure out what that meant.

  “I don’t need this. I don’t need to be responsible for someone I’m not even responsible for. You aren’t my fiancée or girlfriend. You’re just this girl who can’t manage to stay out of trouble and the truth is, that’s your problem.”

  I dropped my eyes shut trying to figure out what that even meant. I hadn’t asked him for anything. I never did. When I got tossed in the slammer—words I never thought I’d say—I hadn’t called Max. I hadn’t wanted to tick him off or make him think I was only calling because of what he could do for me.

  Maybe I was naive, but I thought someone would listen to me. I thought at some point the officer would realize he’d made a horrible mistake.

  Also, I thought telling people I was in jail would be embarrassing, so skipping that step would have been A+.

  “You know what?” I grabbed my bag, yanking it down his arm and practically dislocating it. “I didn’t ask for your help. I’ve never asked for your help. I just want to do my own thing but Mr. I Know Best likes to jump in and fix things to exactly how they should be. You go do your own thing. Don’t worry about me. No one thinks I’m your responsibility but you.”

  I stormed down the station’s stairs, his voice stopping me before I reached the sidewalk. “You didn’t call me!”

  I spun around, not sure what I was going to say or how I was going to justify that, but no. I didn’t call him.

  “I didn’t…” How was I going to explain this?

  Max marched down the stairs, stopping so close I could feel the heat of him.

  “You were arrested and were sitting in a freaking holding tank in my precinct and you didn’t call me.”

  I looked up at him, the distance too close and said the only thing that came to mind. “I didn’t know it was your precinct.”

  If he’d been angry before, that was nothing like the rage that washed over him then, drawing his brows down and pushing the red so far up his neck it looked like it was choking him.

  “And, I mean, they hadn’t let me make my call yet.”

  It was clear he didn’t believe I was going to call him. Which was the truth so what could I say?

  “Are you serious?” Max stepped back and turned, storming away before returning just as angry. “That’s what mattered? That you didn’t know if I worked there or not? You were in jail. You have a cop at your freaking beck and call and you just sit there wondering who to call.”

  “I didn’t think you were at my beck and call.” I seemed to keep picking the thing most likely to make him angrier, because he actually flung his arms wide when I said that.

  “You didn’t call anyone.” His voice carried over the nearly empty parking lot and echoed back to us. “You just sat there, in jail, not using your call. You’re a smart girl. You know you could have demanded it. Or just told them to call me. But no. Nope. You just sat there. Doing it Kasey’s way. Not letting anyone in.”

  I glanced away, worn out just from looking at all the anger rolling off of him on top of the really cruddy evening I’d had. The angry beat of his work shoes pounded up the stairs and the door slammed behind me.

  30

  “I’m not going to lie. I’m beginning to think you’re an idiot.” Jayne shushed me as the stilted GPS voice in the background told her to turn right.

  “I know. I have no idea what happened. I was standing there thinking Max was a guy worth taking a chance on, and then there was all this yelling and storming off.”

  I heard the voice tell her she was point-two miles from her destination. I stood and watched for her little beater-box car to roll down my street. She pulled past the line of high-end SUVs and waved at me as she looked for a spot to pull in. I trotted down the front steps and pulled the lawn chair I’d borrowed out of the space I’d been holding for her. Typically, I hated that person. But I wasn’t sure how much stuff she’d brought with her, so I figured we’d need to be close knowing her over-packing habit.

  As she pulled in, I glanced in the car and shuddered just a bit. Her habit was getting worse. Jayne threw the car in park and hopped out, rushing around to give me a hug.

  “Hey, girl making even more horrible decisions than normal!” Typical Jayne greeting.

  “Hey, girl who seems to have brought everything she owned. What’s up with that?” I pulled her onto the sidewalk, always a little afraid the local drivers wouldn’t stop for human bodies, even in my quaint little neighborhood.

  “Yeah, so. Surprise!” She glanced at the car, its back seat stuffed to the point of full. “I’m moving here!”

  “Best news ever!” I flung my arms around her, pretty sure my life just got better by four. “You’re moving here. This is nuts. You can’t just move here. How are you moving here?”

  “Well, I thought about what you said about starting your own business and all the work you were doing and how you were meeting people here and thought, I don’t want to miss out on all that.”

  “You don’t have to move here to be part of my life.” That seemed extreme even to me.

  “No. I know. But,” She leaned against the hood, staring off down my over-manicured street. “You aren’t the only one who could use a clean start.”

  There was more going on here than a visit, that was obvious.

  “Why don’t we throw your stuff—some of your stuff—upstairs and get a drink?” We were obviously going to have to do some heavy-duty planning for both of us.

  “Can we go to the Brew Ha Ha?”

  “You want to go to The Brew? Not a pub or something?” It seemed out of character for her to not want to try a local craft brew.

  “You talk about it all the time and maybe I’ll get to lay eyes on this hottie cop of yours.”

  “He’s not mine. But, sure, we can go to The Brew.”

  We carried her bags upstairs and she ooh’d and aah’d over how cute the apartment was. We put her clothes in the small closet in the living room and headed on over to The Brew.

  Of course, Abby was working. I was beginning to wonder when she wasn’t working.

  “Who’s this?”

  “Hi, Abby. I’m fine thanks. How are you?” I’d learned to just respond to her as if she’d said exactly what a normal person would.

  “Right. Fine. Whatever. Who is she?” She pointed a suspicious glare at Jayne.

  “This is Jayne. My best friend from home.”

  This didn’t seem to win Jayne any points.

  “So, she’s here to visit?”

  “Does it matter?” Jayne glared back at Abby.

  Well, this was going to be interesting.

  “Yes. John says I have to be nice to the regulars, so if you’re going to be coming in all the time with this crew, then I have to be polite.”

  “Just to be clear, you’ll only be polite to me if I’m going to be a regular?” Jayne glanced my way and I tried to tell her with a strong look not to engage.

  “Right.”

  “So, yes. I’m going to be a regular.”

  Now Abby had good reason to look suspicious. “Are you just saying that so I’m polite to you?”

  “Is this your version of polite? Because, I have to tell you, it kind of sucks. I almost want to say I’m not going to be a regular to see how you treat normal people.”

  “Jayne, for the love of stars, do not tempt fate!” This was the scariest thing that had happened in days. And I’d just gotten out of jail.

  Jayne and Abby stared each other down, their gazes clashing over the counter. It was a match of wills for the centuries.

/>   “Abby! Stop glaring at the customers.” John’s voice came from the back room. There were days he didn’t even bother to come out to correct her any more—just shouted from where he was. I considered buying him one of those zappy collars people trained their dogs with.

  That was probably illegal, though, and I was done dancing on the dark side.

  “She can’t decide if she’s a regular or not,” Abby shouted back without bothering to look away from Jayne. “You said I had to be nice to the regulars.”

  I could hear the long-suffering sigh from the backroom, before a chair-scraping sound and John’s tread pacing to the front of the café.

  “I said don’t be rude to the regulars. Not you only had to be nice to the regulars.”

  “But you didn’t say I had to be nice to anyone or not to be mean to the drop-ins.”

  John’s gaze narrowed on Abby and for the first time I saw a spark of anger in it. Abby must have seen it too, because she turned toward him, her hands clasped at her waist.

  “You want to learn to run a restaurant? To be a manager? Or do you want to be a petulant child no one wants to work with?”

  I sucked in a breath and glanced toward Jayne who was looking at this as if it were all interesting. She could have no idea how much John and the customers put up with from Abby. It was almost a rite of passage to have to deal with her. But, there was direct and then there was the over-the-top rude.

  That must be the line.

  “I’m not…” Abby glanced at us, a quick burst of panic crossing her face. “I’m not…”

  I wished Jenna was here. Abby speechless was a new thing.

  “It’s fine.” Jayne leaned over the counter so John could see her past the pastry display. “I provoked her. She wasn’t being rude, just specific.”

  John glanced between them, his expression softening. “Right. Okay. Remember, rude is bad. Direct is…well, we’ll work on that.”

  Without even waiting to be introduced, John went back to whatever he was doing in the backroom.

  “Sorry.” Abby was looking at Jayne as if she were a super hero. “I’m…direct. And John is a bit stressed right now.”