Brew Ha Ha Box Set: Books 1-4

by Bria Quinlan

  “Okay, can we see those?” I asked, figuring there was no harm.

  The pocket watches were truly elegant. Several of each style were grabbing my attention, but I was feeling a little overwhelmed.

  “Don’t worry, Hailey.” Jonathan smiled at me as he pulled the pocket watches out. “Most people don’t come in and walk right to what they want. It’s a big decision. I have men who come back six or seven times trying to pick out just the right thing. Don’t feel any pressure to buy something today. You can work on your own emotional clock.”

  “You’re very good at this,” Abby said, almost scowling at him. Obviously seeing the opposite end of customer service was throwing her for a bit of a loop.

  “This is what we do.”

  Abby nodded, probably figuring she was very good at what she did too and thus seeing no reason to change.

  I picked up a pocket watch. There was something so elegant and quaint about it. I knew that Connor would really appreciate the beauty of it. He was something of a traditionalist in some ways. And it was something he could pull out for special occasions, not feel like he needed to wear it all the time because I gave it to him.

  “How much do these things go for?” Abby asked, saving me the embarrassment of sadly realizing that I was constrained by cost in a way my boyfriend wouldn’t be.

  “There’s a range of cost. It depends on the maker, style, materials, and in some cases its rarity.”

  “So, are the used things more expensive?” Abby asked in a way that would have insulted most people.

  Jonathan just laughed. “Sometimes. But not always. And used isn’t typically how people think of them. Watches were, in a different time, built to last. Now, not all are. We’ve sadly become a disposable world. The workmanship on the newer watches is something you pay for instead of anticipate.”

  “Huh.” Abby nodded, obviously finding this far more interesting than I would have expected her to.

  A watch was a nice idea, but he did have several. All of them were tastefully expensive. Nothing too big or gawky…or tacky. I had a feeling that if he showed up with something like that, Gavin would have forced him to return it or mocked him mercilessly.

  He didn’t always wear a watch, probably because he was constantly having to take them off for practice, training, and I’m assuming games. So, that probably wasn’t a great bet.

  The pocket watches caught my attention again and I looked where Abby was oohing and ahhing over them. There was something intrinsically romantic about pocket watches. They call back to a time when time meant something. Time together meant something. Just like our time together—just like how it meant more because he was going to be on the road so much.

  And, no matter how many times I got angry at Somewhere in Time about the lack of historical accuracy and completely ignoring the cyclical inability of the story’s time travel component…a pocket watch still equaled romance.

  Abby picked one up and clicked it open, smiling as she did so.

  I couldn’t help but picture it in Connor’s large hand, watching him handle it with care like he did all things he valued.

  I glanced down at the display again. They seemed to break down immediately into has-a-cover and does-not-have-a-cover. With how active Connor was, the choice seemed clear. I narrowed down to just the ones with covers. I also liked the idea of the cover popping open. It felt very old-timey, hot guy. I looked them over for something that felt like him—like us.

  There was one with an intricate design of a thread wrapping into and over itself, filling the circle of the lid with four distinct corner points.

  I picked it up, running my finger over the pattern. I loved the simplicity tying itself so complicated. It was like Connor himself, much simpler and also more complex than people ever imagined.

  “Oh, that’s a nice one.” Jonathan pulled the light on the counter over, and set an empty velvet tray down between us. “It’s silver, obviously. And the design is a Celtic knot known by many names, including a Celtic Shield Knot. It’s often placed by someone for protection or to show the binding of two people.”

  Abby elbowed me when he said that in case I somehow missed it.

  I clicked it open. The inside was beautifully worked as well. The face was a simple, clean white with crisp Roman numerals at each number under a clean, clear glass covering. The inside of the lid was smooth and obviously freshly polished.

  “This is a nice choice.” Jonathan smiled and I felt the truth of his words wash over me. “Too often people come in and want a Claddagh cover, not caring about the history or anything more than that everyone knows it. This has a beautiful background. We got this watch from an estate sale of a family who had moved here after losing their lands in Ireland. The watch, as the woman told us, was brought over by her great grandfather. It was one of the few things they hadn’t sold for their move and had been handed down to the oldest son for decades. It was always carried by whichever child was traveling—for safety.”

  “Oh, that’s lovely.” I picked it back up and handled it, feeling the history of it.

  “It keeps perfect time. Which is a miracle in some cases and just what’s expected in others.”

  I fell more in love with the watch with every word, but I couldn’t help to wonder why it was here. Where was its family?

  “Why did they sell it?” I couldn’t buy it, couldn’t bring it into our newly forming family, if it was—tainted. That was the only word I could think of. If it were tainted from being dragged from its home, it wasn’t for us.

  Jonathan smiled, a bit sad but he also seemed pleased I’d asked.

  “The woman who had the estate sale is the last of her line. She spent time searching down the last of another line, her grandfather’s brother had gone to New York when he was a young man. We sent him an email for her because she thought he might like to have it. But—” Jonathan cut himself off and I could tell that what she found wasn’t the heartwarming reunion a woman at the end of her life deserved. “She sold it to me with some other things. She’s moving into an assisted living place that’s lovely. The estate sale is going to keep her comfortable for the rest of her life.”

  I nodded, sad at the end of her line, but pleased that Jonathan had gone to the effort to help her.

  “I don’t suppose your young man is of the Irish lines?” he gave me a smile, knowing that here in Boston there was a good chance he was.

  “With a name like Connor Ryan, I’m not sure what else he could be.” I laughed, because, yes. Irish.

  “Connor Ryan?” The question came from the far end of the counter where the young woman had sat reading. “Holy cow, you’re Hailey Tate, aren’t you?”

  Abby took a step forward, blocking my view of the young woman and all but raising the fur on the back of her neck… I mean, if Abby had had fur.

  I leaned around her, knowing that now I had to be polite. “Yes. I’m Hailey Tate.”

  The girl rushed down the counter, her phone in hand. “You’re Connor Ryan’s girlfriend.”

  “Um, well, that’s one way to look at it.”

  “Holly.” Jonathan gave her a harsh look.

  “You’re proposing to Connor Ryan?” I could hear the extra question marks on the end of the question.

  “Well…” Suddenly I felt very private. What had been a fun discussion with Jonathan felt intrusive with this Holly person.

  She raised her phone, ready to snap a photo, when Jonathan’s hand shot out snatching it from her. He turned back to me and Abby and gave us a tight smile. “Could you excuse us for a moment please?”

  Before we could say anything, Jonathan had his hand wrapped around Holly’s upper arm and was very firmly leading her to the backroom. The door fell shut behind them and Abby and I just stood there, a bit confounded for a moment.

  “Maybe we should go.” I glanced toward the door where the snow had slowed to just a light, pretty drifting. We could get some hot chocolate, mark this down as a bad call on my part.

 
; “I don’t think so.” Abby was staring at the door to the backroom now, an intent look on her face. “First, we have to get your watch. Then I have to threaten that skinny, phone-wielding girl’s ass.”

  Umm…

  “Maybe not so much with the threatening.” I mean, the thought was nice and all, but jail was bad. And if Abby and I ended up in jail we wouldn’t be able to torment Kasey with her criminal past. “But I see your point about—”

  “Connor Ryan!” came shouted through the back door. “She’s going to propose to Connor Ryan!”

  “You were saying about the threatening?” Abby quirked one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows at me as I was tempted to lay my head down on the glass counter in front of us and just give up.

  After a few moments of muffled arguing, Jonathan came back out, Holly trailing behind him but looking mutinous.

  “Hailey, I apologize for Holly’s…behavior.” Jonathan looked so embarrassed I was tempted to tell him not to worry about it.

  Any other time, any other shopping spree, and I would have. But this was too important. Not only did I not want Connor to hear about this ahead of time and ruin the surprise, but I was pretty sure all paparazzi chaos would break out if this ended up on social media.

  “We have a strict confidentiality agreement with all of our clients. Holly understands this.” He emphasized this statement with a quick glare her way. “And, of course, the fact that you even visited the shop today will remain confidential. Isn’t that right, Holly?”

  We all turned to look at Holly who had returned to the stool she’d been sitting on. After a moment of contemplation, she finally flashed us a very big, very fake smile, and said, “Of course.”

  Abby all but growled next to me.

  I turned back to Jonathan, not wanting to ruin the day with something as stupid as a Connor groupie and picked the watch back up, fingering the beautiful pattern on the front again.

  “This is it.” As soon as I said the words I knew everything was going to be okay. I was sure it was the right thing to do. I didn’t want to have to wait to figure out what was going on in Connor’s mind. I knew how he felt about me—not just because he’d told me, but because he showed me every day.

  “Wonderful.” Jonathan smiled, mostly absolute joy at someone who loved the watch purchasing it, and maybe a little bit of relief. “Do you want that engraved with something?”

  That seemed like a good plan. But I couldn’t imagine what to put on there not knowing when I was going to do the whole proposal thing.

  “Perhaps you’d like to come back and have your wedding date added once you know it?” he prompted.

  I could feel the relief rush through me. This is why you let the professionals get involved. I would have stood there trying to come up with something for hours. He probably would have ended up with a gorgeous pocket watch that said something stupid like “this keeps good time.”

  “That’s a great idea.” I fingered the watch one last time before letting him take it to package in a lovely little box.

  This was about the time I noticed Abby had wandered down to the other end of the counter. The conversation going on down there did not look happy-friendly.

  I tried to act casual as I meandered down to where the two women faced off, knowing that Abby could be tough, but I’d seen the nails Holly was sporting. It could get ugly either way.

  “So, hey. Watcha guys talking about?” I asked, trying to avoid anything remotely like How ’bout those Nighthawks since that was pretty much exactly what I didn’t want to talk about.

  “Nothing,” Abby replied, her gaze never leaving Holly’s. “We’re just having a friendly chat. Aren’t we, Holly?”

  Holly glared back, not backing down.

  “Who are you? The Mafiosa?” I snagged Abby’s arm to pull her back down the counter. “Leave the girl alone.”

  “Okay.” Abby gave her one last smile. “I have Google Alerts and I know where you work. That’s all I’m saying.”

  I gave her a small shove and headed back down the counter, not letting this get even further out of hand.

  Jonathan handed me a delicate looking bag I was hoping would hold up to the weather, and an invoice I was hoping my heart could take. “Good luck, Hailey. I’m sure it’s going to be a wonderful day and the start of an even better life.”

  It was such the perfect thing to say that I almost teared up.

  As we were heading out I had a bit of a brain flash—and an idea to keep Abby from having to make anyone an offer they couldn’t refuse.

  “Holly.” I stopped in front of the girl who was barely trying to conceal her annoyance with me for keeping my own proposal secret. “If I don’t hear about my proposal anywhere before we announce it, when I come back to get the watch engraved you can Insta it with an announcement.”

  She narrowed her eyes as if she didn’t believe me. “So, exclusive rights to the announcement?”

  “No,” Abby said before I had to.

  “Well, no. Connor and I both have obligations because of contracts. But you’ll have the first shot of the watch.” You’d think the girl worked for People or something.

  “Will Connor come with you?”

  I said, “Probably not,” as Abby growled.

  “But,” I went on, “this is better than nothing. Take it or leave it.”

  Jonathan made a coughing sound that sounded a lot like “confidentiality clause” and Abby did everything she could to look dangerous.

  The idea that this girl was getting threatened from two angles and still thought she could pull something off was almost impressive.

  “Fine.” She crossed her arms, looking for all the world like she’d just bargained and won. “But you have to come in on a Tuesday or Thursday because those are the days I work.”

  “Holly.” Jonathan looked like he was going to fire her anyway.

  “Sure,” I answered, wondering if she’d still be there.

  I thanked Jonathan again and pushed Abby out into the fluffy white stuff.

  The snow had slowed and the air was warm and dry so we walked along, peeking into the shops that were opening. Now that the cabin fever was setting in, or a dog needed to visit a tree, we had to share the sidewalks, but it was still peaceful compared to the typical midday traffic.

  When we got to the turnoff where Abby would head back to The Brew and I’d trek on to my brownstone, she turned and gave me a smile so bright I almost fell back a step.

  “I’m so excited.” Before I knew what she was going to do, she threw her arms around me, then let go and rushed away.

  I was choosing to take that as a good sign.

  29

  I wandered around my incredibly small apartment looking for a place Connor wouldn’t accidentally stumble upon the pocket watch. I ended up putting it at the bottom of my tampons box. I figured it was safe there. But with my luck and knowing Connor, he’d decide tampons made a great replacement cork for a bottle of wine or something equally inane and go through the box this week.

  Now that I had the watch, I was feeling ready to go—except for that whole proposing thing. I had to figure out how to do it…how to make him feel as comfortable and as sure of us as I did.

  I was pacing around the living room-slash-dining area-office closet (twelve steps each way) and thinking it through. What would he feel was romantic? My first thought was that Il Giardino was the best way to go. Our first fake date had been there and I’d first noticed he wasn’t the complete jackass he’d presented as during our first meeting.

  Or our second.

  But, I wondered if since we’d started the night basically hating each other—and it was a fake date after all—if that was the best place to pop the question.

  Also, it suddenly dawned on me he might say no. I wasn’t sure I wanted to take that risk in public. I didn’t think I wanted our proposal showing up online before we even got home—especially if he wasn’t thrilled I’d become all independent woman of the new millennium and decided t
o go out on this limb.

  He’d even talked one night about all the stadium proposals he’d seen and how they made him anxious because of all the things that could go wrong.

  So, private was good. I was going to go the private route in case he—

  The phone interrupted me, Darth Vader again.

  “Hails,” Connor started out without preamble. “Are there any types of lights that give you a headache?”

  “What?” Was it me, or were his phone calls getting weirder? “Lights?”

  “Yeah. Nick was just saying that some people get headaches from sitting under recessed lighting and I was wondering if you were one of them.”

  “Ask her about track lighting too,” Nick’s voice shouted in the background.

  “I thought you guys were going out to play in the snow or something.” Which sounded like the most absurd statement a girl could make to her thirty-one-year-old boyfriend and his trusty sidekick.

  “We did, but snow is cold.”

  “So cold!” Nick added.

  Okay. Valid.

  “No. No headaches that I noticed.” I collapsed on the couch, done with pacing for now. “Do you guys?”

  “Nope. But Nick made a good point about them making rooms feel bigger sometimes, so that’s a thing.” Connor hummed under his breath as I heard him flipping through papers.

  “Yup,” I said, because what else was there to say? “What are you guys doing today? Are you coming over?”

  The phone was muffled and there was some urgent whispering I couldn’t make out, then Connor came back to the phone. “Yeah, I’ll be down—over—whatever— later today.”

  “Okay.” Again, not sure what to say to any of that.

  “Great! See you later. Love you!” Behind Connor’s voice I heard Nick shout, “Like you!” and then the phone went dead.

  I sat there with it, questioning my own sanity for wanting to marry into that.

  After some heavy thinking, I decided to get a catered dinner from Il Giardino after all. That way, we’d have the romance of nostalgia but the privacy of my apartment. Mr. Antonelli offered to clear the entire restaurant for that night when I’d explained. That seemed more than a little bit insane. Also, I told him I couldn’t afford that, but he seemed to see Connor as part of the family and offered anyway.