Maybe I Do

by Nicole McLaughlin

  LAUREN: That you were doing great.

  That was vague enough. She wondered if there was anything Lauren wasn’t saying. Not that she didn’t trust her—Lauren would never do anything to embarrass her—but still …

  LAUREN: I might have also told him you have a boyfriend.

  She’d said what? Charlotte nearly choked, and obviously she hadn’t hidden her shock because Mary Sue put a hand on her back. “Everything okay, Charlotte?”

  “Oh yes, just fine. Thanks.”

  CHARLOTTE: What is wrong with you???????

  LAUREN: I know! I’m sorry. He just casually mentioned that he knew you weren’t married and it just pissed me off.

  Huh. How did he know? Charlotte supposed it wasn’t that strange. Mary Sue knew she was single, as did Shelby and his brother. But it still sucked that he’d made mention of it. Was he gloating? And was it so bad that Lauren had lied? What did it matter? He’d never find out the truth.

  CHARLOTTE: It’s okay. I appreciate you having my back. But please tell me he isn’t that good looking anymore.

  Because although she used to look him up online occasionally, it had been years since she’d had any desire to do so.

  LAUREN: Uhhhh … sure.

  Charlotte groaned quietly and stuffed her phone back into her pocket just in time to see that Shelby was carefully walking down the main steps. Pulling out her camera, Charlotte snapped a few of her smiling at her mother, who’d begun to tear up. It was a sweet moment, especially when Mary Sue embraced her daughter at the foot of the stairs.

  Charlotte lowered her camera and gave them a weak smile. Happy people were getting married today. Just like they did every weekend all over the world and the show had to go on, whether she would see her ex for the first time in five years or not.

  Within a half hour the girls were loading up in the limo bus and heading to the church, where Shelby and Jason would have their first look.

  John would be there.

  On the way over, Charlotte’s hands began to sweat. Before they’d left she’d ducked into a powder room to freshen up her makeup a bit and adjust her hair, which she’d spent a little more time on today. This morning she’d decided to style it in a messy low side bun with pieces framing her face. It said chic without trying too hard, which was completely false considering it had taken her half an hour to perfect. She’d felt satisfied with her appearance fifteen minutes ago, but as the bus pulled up outside the church, and the brakes hissed, she felt like a hot mess.

  She knew the boys would be hidden away in the church so Charlotte could get Shelby into position in a garden patio to the side of the church, but the minute she stepped off the bus she worried John might be around any corner. What would she say? Why hadn’t she prepared better before this moment?

  The girls shuffled into the church, carrying their flowers and bags, and Charlotte stepped inside the atrium to see Lauren heading for the door with a smile.

  “You made it. Jason’s ready when you are.”

  “Okay. I just … I need a minute.”

  Lauren frowned. “You gonna be okay?”

  Charlotte nodded. “I will. But I really don’t know what I was thinking taking this job,” she whispered.

  “Char?”

  That voice. The voice. The one that use to say things like “I love you.” “Forever.” “You’re beautiful.” The voice that calmed her when she was panicked, soothed her when she was sad, and whispered in her ear the first time she’d ever made love. It still sent sensation rippling through her nerve endings.

  Looking over Lauren’s shoulder, Charlotte plastered on a smile. “John. How are you?”

  She didn’t miss the way he looked her up and down. Too bad the shape of her body was mostly concealed by the layers of equipment hanging on her body. Nonetheless, he grinned and walked right up to wrap her in a big hug. Her two camera bodies prevented them from getting too close, but still, the feel of him almost took her breath away.

  He was bigger than he used to be. In a good way. Muscular and strong, and his arms squeezed her tight as she was shocked into the past by the scent of him. A different cologne, but still the same John undertone.

  Pulling back, he was still grinning. “You look amazing.”

  “Oh.” She chuckled, embarrassed and genuinely surprised by his excitement at seeing her. She hadn’t known what to expect. Awkwardness, indifference, maybe even irritation. But this … this happiness came as a shock. “You look amazing yourself.”

  He laughed, and then awkwardly glanced over at Lauren as if he’d just realized she was standing there watching. She quickly turned her look of shock into a cheeky grin.

  “Well, I need to get our couple moving along so we can take some portraits,” Charlotte said. “Sorry to cut things short.”

  “Of course. I understand. We can catch up later,” he said.

  Really? What was there to catch up on? Remember that one time we almost had a family together but then we didn’t? Or, Remember that one time I’d just put on my wedding dress at the church and your mom came into the dressing room crying and told me the wedding was off? Huh. She really wondered what they had to discuss, and just like that some of her anger and sadness bubbled up from the place she’d buried them deep inside. Maybe he’d been able to move on, but she had a little bit of lingering resentment. Some might say she was justified.

  “Yeah, we could totally do that. Later.” She turned and headed back outside, letting out a deep breath. She heard the door behind her and knew it was Lauren.

  “You okay?”

  Charlotte spoke quietly as she stepped around an alcove on the side of the building. “What the hell was that?”

  “What do you mean?” Lauren asked.

  “Well … he acted happy to see me.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it?”

  “It’s just not what I expected.”

  “He was so nice at his brother’s house all morning. Offered to carry my bag and brought me a drink. It’s been very unsettling. Would have been a lot easier if he was a dick.”

  “Right? I agree.” Charlotte groaned and looked up to the sky. “I wanted to hate him today. Why was he sweet?”

  Lauren laughed. “Let’s just get this first look over with. The sooner we get the portraits done with, the better.”

  Charlotte couldn’t disagree with that. Portraits were the time when she’d spend the most time with the bridal party, and by default with John. As she found Shelby and led her to the garden patio, it was strange to consider the fact that in another life, they’d have been sisters-in-law. That Jason, who was currently facing away from them on the stone pavers, ready for Shelby to tap him on the shoulder and reveal herself in her dress, might have been her brother-in-law. She possibly would have been a bridesmaid in this very wedding.

  Shaking off those silly and irrelevant thoughts, Charlotte prepared her camera settings, nodded at Lauren who was shooting from another angle, and then instructed Shelby to make her way to her groom.

  Charlotte’s shutter began to shoot rapidly as Shelby did as instructed, lightly touching his shoulder and alerting him to turn and look at her. The moment he did, his face broke into a wide grin, his eyes going glassy as he took in every inch of her dress, hair, makeup. Shelby did look spectacular today, and apparently his reaction pleased her, since she covered her mouth with her hand to conceal her emotions.

  First sights were almost always emotional. Charlotte glanced over at Lauren to find her friend’s lips twisted, holding back her own happy tears. Despite her thoughts on the wedding day and all of its unnecessary pomp and circumstance, Charlotte knew it was a privilege to witness a couple in this private and vulnerable moment. That fact never escaped her.

  “Babe, you take my breath away,” he whispered. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “I love you so much.”

  Though slightly different, his voice was similar enough to John’s to make Charlotte pause a moment. She forced herself to continue shooting as they hu
gged and whispered to each other. When Charlotte and Lauren were both satisfied with their coverage, they made their way to the couple.

  “You both look wonderful,” Charlotte said.

  “Charlotte, hi.” Jason reached out and gave her a hug. “It’s so good to see you. Thank you so much for helping us out today. I realize it might not have been ideal for you, but I can’t tell you how much we appreciate it.”

  He glanced at Shelby, who nodded her agreement as she wiped at the corner of her eye. Charlotte couldn’t decide if she appreciated his acknowledgment of the situation from her perspective, or wished he’d avoided the obvious like everyone else, but either way it was kind of him.

  “I’m happy I could help. Truly.” She was surprised to find that she meant it. So far the day had gone well. Shelby was a beautiful bride, her family was lovely and sweet, and after the ceremony and portraits, they’d be spending the evening at the Stag. A bummer that Dean wasn’t scheduled to be there, but it felt like home, so that would be nice. “Shall we get on the bus and head out for some portraits? We have exactly an hour and a half before you need to be ready for the ceremony.”

  They agreed it was time to get everyone back on the limo bus, and Lauren made her way inside to gather the troops. The two of them let everyone else load up first and then made their way up the steps and onto the vehicle. After having a quick chat with the driver on how to get to the field they were shooting in first, she turned around to see only one seat left available. The man in the seat next to the vacant one grinned up at her.

  She’d have to sit by John.

  Thirteen

  Dean knew he should be ashamed of himself. There was no reason for him to be at work tonight. He’d set himself up yesterday to leave his most recent mash to ferment until Sunday and had even tried to plan a relaxing evening at home. That had included spending Saturday afternoon working out, picking up a movie from the nightly rental machine, and buying some groceries. But once late afternoon had rolled around, he’d gotten restless. Unable to stand it any longer, he’d showered again, gotten dressed, and headed over to work.

  So here he was, the sounds of the wedding reception above him as he stood checking the temperature on his still. Not long ago he’d added the mash into the still and was waiting for the heat to rise. The sound of chairs scraping over his head informed him everyone was sitting down to dinner. Or were they getting up from dinner?

  He hadn’t even gone upstairs to see how things were going, or even to see Charlotte, but for some reason just being in the building made him feel better. After everything that had passed between them in the previous couple of weeks, it killed him to know she’d be spending the evening with Jake, especially since he figured the guy would be bringing up the photo shoot. And it wasn’t that he didn’t trust his friend, because he did. But he really wished it was him working with her.

  The past few days he’d replayed their conversation on the square over and over in his head. For months, he’d convinced himself that what seemed obvious was his own wishful thinking, but there was no more denying things after she’d made it clear with her statement.

  What if I want you to have the right?

  She wanted something more. With him. And he wanted it, too, but there was so much fear wrapped up in that idea that all the what-ifs nearly choked him. The fact that she’d flat-out asked him his fear was sobering. Damn, she was intuitive. And his answers abounded.

  What if she eventually resented the age difference?

  What if it didn’t last and she quit working at the Stag?

  And worst of all, because Charlotte was young, beautiful, and full of life: What if they did fall in love … and she wanted children? What the fuck would he do then?

  He was torn with wanting to just see what happened between them and deal with the consequences, or keep trying to put walls up. Sadly, the latter hadn’t been working for him. All that resulted was her walking away angry and hurt. It was starting to feel like there was no good answer.

  Looking at the thermometer once again, Dean was finally satisfied with the rising temperature. He adjusted the nozzle so the first drips of liquid would make their way into the plastic tub where he would collect the foreshot, which was the unusable bit that came out of the still first. It had to be tossed.

  A while later, he looked up and through the glass wall saw two men watching him work. One in a tux and the other in slacks and a tie. It wasn’t that unusual for wedding guests to make their way down to check out the distilling equipment, but it was odd for them to find work being done on a weekend. Dean hadn’t been working in here on a Saturday night in over a year.

  The two guys gave him a small wave and he returned it and went about his business. Five minutes later, he could still feel them watching him so he walked out the back door, then down the short hallway to the main room, and asked if they wanted to come in and see the process up close. He wasn’t sure why—he didn’t usually do that unless he was leading a guided tour, which they did occasionally—but the tux guy seemed ecstatic at his offer.

  Back in the distilling room Dean gave them a very brief rundown of all the bigger equipment: the fermenters, the mash cooker, the still.

  “So is this whiskey you’ve got going right now?” Tux Guy asked.

  “This is actually our Stag Signature Bourbon.”

  The guy’s eyes lit up. “The one nobody’s tasted yet.”

  Dean laughed. “Just us owners and a few of our close friends and family. We will uncask our first few barrels next month.”

  “Wow. How long have those been aging?”

  “Five years. We actually made them in my father’s basement before this building was ready for us.”

  “That’s amazing. I love this stuff.” Tux glanced around the room. The second guy, obviously wanting to get back to the party upstairs, said thanks for the tour and headed out. “Mind if I stay and watch?”

  Dean shrugged. “Sure. Not too interesting at this point.”

  “Ah, I disagree. I find this fascinating. Why did you guys choose copper over stainless?”

  It surprised Dean how much he enjoyed sharing his knowledge about how the copper still turned the sulfur into copper sulfates, thereby improving the taste of the product. He proceeded to explain what he was doing, how he had to watch the pressure, temperature, and steam, and how he determined when it was time to make the cut from the head to the hearts.

  “Notice how the smell changed?” Dean held up the hydrometer to the man’s nose.

  He took a sniff and his eyes widened. “Yeah. It’s a lot sweeter.”

  “The foreshots and heads contain things you don’t want to drink. A lot of methanol. Now we start to fill this large bin with the hearts. The good stuff, ethanol. Want to taste it?”

  The guy laughed. “Seriously? Will I have to sign a nondisclosure?”

  Dean grinned. “Nah, the final product will taste completely different after spending five years in oak. This will taste clean but a little harsh. You can taste the corn a bit.” He put a small glass under the spout and retained just a tiny bit before handing it over.

  “Is this considered hooch?” Tux asked.

  Dean laughed. “If you want to call it that.” He watched as the guy tipped his head back and swallowed it down before letting out a loud breath.

  “Wow. What proof is that?”

  “About a hundred thirty-six.”

  His new friend laughed. “Jesus. Good thing it was just a taste. Thanks. This has been great. Really.” He handed Dean the glass. “You’ve got a great job. I sit at a desk all day. Well, actually I don’t sit anywhere but my parents’ couch. I just got laid off and moved back home.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Where’d you move from?”

  “Chicago. I’m a finance consultant.”

  Dean nodded. “I’m sure you’ll find something around here.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. Money will always be a problem for someone, right?” The guy laughed, but there was worry behin
d his eyes. “I don’t know. I’m kind of thinking of treating this as a fresh start. Sucked to be laid off, but I actually hated what I did.”

  In that moment, Dean had a sudden urge to do something he’d never had the desire to do until now. Maybe this was a sign, and it could solve both of their problems. He hesitated, knowing that he could regret what he was about to say, but this guy was cool, and clearly interested. He was young but not much younger than Jake and TJ. Besides, his youth was an asset, wasn’t it? He knew nothing about distilling but he seemed passionate about the process, which meant Dean could mold him to be exactly what he wanted. Teach him how to do things his way.

  “Listen, this is sort of strange, but … I’ve been meaning to hire an apprentice for a while now.” The guy’s eyes widened. He was clearly listening with interest. “I’m sure we couldn’t pay a financial consultant’s salary, but … it would be a job. Seems like something you might enjoy. We’re rolling out two new products by next month and if our projections are accurate … we’ll be doing pretty damn well for ourselves.”

  A slow smile spread over the man’s face. “Are you serious? You’re offering me a job making whiskey?”

  The words struck Dean as a little odd, and for a moment he felt ridiculous. “Well…”

  “That would be absolutely amazing.”

  Dean froze, and then finally laughed. “It is pretty amazing if I do say so myself. Don’t feel pressured to answer right now. Think about it.”

  “I’ll do that.” He shook his head, a grin on his face. “Wow. Thank you.”

  Dean stuck out his hand. “You’re very welcome, and my name’s Dean by the way.”

  The other man gave Dean a firm shake in return. “Great to meet you, Dean. John Reynolds.”

  John shook his head again, clearly shocked. “Here I was nervous as hell about coming to this wedding tonight. My ex is here and I’m jobless and living with my parents. Doesn’t make you feel great about yourself. But this … this is great. Thank you.”

  Dean could relate. He’d been in a similar situation just after his divorce. “I’m sure things aren’t going as great for her as they appear,” he said, just to be supportive.