But when Henry brought in a crate of still-steaming glasses, Jamie forced himself to give a small smile. “Thanks, Henry.”
“Hey, I can fill in for you for a couple of hours if you want. I helped Eric at that trade show a few weeks ago.”
“Naw, I’m good. But thanks.”
Henry nodded and headed back to the kitchen.
“Wait. If you want to start training, let’s set up a schedule.”
The back of the kid’s neck reddened and he nodded eagerly. “That’d be great. I think I could be good at it.”
Jamie wasn’t so sure. Henry was twenty-one, but he looked sixteen and he was still as awkward and gangly as a teenager. Still, he deserved a shot, and his eagerness was a good sign. It actually went a long way toward cheering Jamie up, and he was whistling as he grabbed the vacuum and turned it on. He’d finished half the room when he realized the growl behind him wasn’t the vacuum. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Eric standing there, arms crossed and mouth turned down in disapproval.
Goddamn it. Jamie did not need this now. He kept vacuuming.
“Jamie!”
Jamie took a deep breath and turned off the vacuum. “What?”
“I said, what are you doing here?”
“I’m filling in for Chester.” He left off, What the heck does it look like? in an effort to be civil.
“Why?”
“He couldn’t make it.”
Eric’s jaw ticced. “What the hell is wrong with your bartenders? This is the second time this week.”
“Ease up, man. Chester had to take his girlfriend to the hospital. Did you want me to say no to that?”
“And what about Tuesday?”
Jamie’s shoulders tightened to steel. “What about it?”
“New guy, right? Some friend of yours? Decided to drive to Las Vegas instead of come in to work?”
“That is not what happened. His car broke down. He—”
“I am sick and tired of these losers you keep hiring. I’m going to start sitting in on the interviews.”
“The fuck you will,” Jamie growled.
Eric growled right back. “You obviously need some help.”
“I don’t need help! When have I ever asked you to pick up the slack?”
“Boulder Business Expo a couple months ago? Sound familiar? Wait, maybe it doesn’t it, because you never showed up. You were too busy filling in for a bartender who took off for Mexico for spring break!”
I’m not going to hit him, Jamie chanted in his head. I’m not going to punch him in his smug mouth. “Look,” he ground out, trying to keep his tone reasonable. “Hiring servers and bartenders isn’t like hiring an office person. The wages suck, and it’s not the kind of job you take when you’re ready to settle down. So, yeah, there’s going to be some turnover, but Chester is a good—”
“This isn’t up for discussion.”
Jamie’s patience snapped, and he slammed his hand into a table. “You don’t get to decide that, damn it. We’re all equal partners here.”
“Yeah? You really think you’re pulling your weight around here, Jamie?”
He’d said it. Eric had finally said exactly what he’d always thought. That unspoken sneer that lurked behind his words. Jamie heard a strange rushing sound and realized it was his blood surging through his veins. His pulse beat in his temples. Everything in his body tightened until he thought he’d either explode or simply snap in half.
Eric seemed to recognize that he’d gone too far. He dropped his head, and his shoulders rose on a breath. “Look—”
“I pull my fucking weight,” Jamie ground out past clenched teeth. “I do my job, and it’s a job you couldn’t do in a million years.”
“You—”
Jamie shoved away the arm that Eric reached toward him. “I’d love to see you try it, brother. I’d love to see you be charming and interesting and approachable. I’d love to see you make small talk with grumpy old men and washed-up sports stars who talk about themselves for two hours and women who think it’s okay to touch your ass because you’re nice to them.”
“Listen—”
“I’d like to see you clean up a spilled pitcher of beer with a goddamn smile even though you’re exhausted because you’ve already been on your feet for ten hours and you know you’ve got another hour to go, because if everything’s not perfect in the morning your own brother will call you an irresponsible, idiot asshole who can’t do anything right.”
Eric’s face paled as if Jamie had punched him right in the gut.
Good.
“Guys?” Tessa whispered. She stood in the doorway, her purse clutched in one hand, the doors to the kitchen still swinging behind her.
Jamie reached for the vacuum again.
“Jamie,” Eric said. His hand touched Jamie’s arm and it felt like an electric shock that connected directly to all his rage.
He shoved Eric. Hard. “Don’t touch me.”
“Hey!” Eric shouted, catching himself on a table.
“Jamie,” Tessa said, rushing forward. “Stop it.”
“Stop what? You’re the one who told me to stand up to him.”
“Not like this!”
“I was in here minding my own business. Doing my job. And he came in looking for a fight. Didn’t you, Eric?”
“I just wanted to talk about—”
“You didn’t want to talk about shit. You wanted to tell me what I was doing wrong. You wanted to let me know what a fuckup I am, just like always.”
“All right,” Eric snapped. “That’s enough. I’m sorry if I stepped over the line, but you have to admit that you contribute to the problem. You were late last week. Your brand-new bartender has already called in. And you keep saying you want to take on more responsibility, but you never do anything about it.”
“That’s not true.” Jamie felt his nails cutting into his palms, and considering how short his nails were, that wasn’t a good sign. He tried to relax his grip, if only because Tessa’s eyes were welling with tears. “It doesn’t matter what I do. You’re not ever going to give me a chance, are you?”
“A chance at what? If you’re trying to do more, I sure as hell haven’t seen any sign of it.”
Tessa elbowed him, but Eric just shot her an annoyed scowl.
Jamie had wanted to wait for the perfect moment. He’d wanted to call a meeting and sit down with his siblings as if they were only business partners and not a family with baggage and fears and long-simmering anger. But he could see now that there wasn’t any use. His chest felt empty with it.
He looked his brother in the eye and felt nothing. “I’ve wanted to make some changes around here. Start serving food.”
“We talked about that last year,” Eric said, brushing away Jamie’s words as if he were a fly buzzing around the room. “We decided it would pose too many problems.”
“You decided,” Jamie said. He wasn’t even mad anymore. He was just tired. “I talked about it, and you decided.”
“I am not the bad guy here,” Eric said, stabbing his thumb at his chest. “I’m not the bad guy because you woke up one morning thinking you’d like to start serving hamburgers and I said no. This isn’t a restaurant, it’s a brewery.”
Tessa put her hand on Eric’s arm. “You’ve been wanting to expand, Eric. Just listen to him.”
“I want to expand our business, and our business is beer, not food.”
Jamie decided to give it one shot. One last shot, because what did he have to lose? He’d already lost it all in those years of running from his own potential. “Our business isn’t beer. Our business is this brewery. This place right here. You’re the one who wants to expand beyond that, and that’s fine. That’s great. But I’d like to focus my work inward.”
Eric put his fists on his hips and dropped his head. “A restaurant isn’t something you just jump into, Jamie. Do you know anything about it? We’d have to expand. There’d be more insurance, more employees. Think about it, for God’s s
ake. This would be a completely different place.”
“I’m not just throwing this out there.”
Eric’s laugh held no humor. “What was it you said? ‘Burgers and stuff’?”
“That was last year. I’ve actually put some work into this, Eric.”
His brother tossed a dismissive look around the tap-room. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, I have. I’ve been taking a class…”
Tessa’s head popped up and her eyes slowly widened.
“A cooking class?” Eric asked.
“No, a restaurant development class. I have an idea. A real idea. I want to—”
“Jamie.” Eric sighed. “This kind of thing could take years to develop. We’d have to expand, and—”
“No, we wouldn’t. If you’ll just listen to me—”
“Fine!” his brother snapped. “You write down your ideas, and we’ll talk about it sometime.” Tessa started to speak, but Eric held up a hand. “But not this year. This year has been crazy enough, and I’ve got my hands full.”
“Eric,” Jamie said wearily. “I’m not asking your permission to bring this to the table. I’m not begging for your approval. I’m telling you that I have a good idea, and I’m going to move forward with it.”
“You’re not making changes to the brewery unless we all agree.”
“Fair enough,” Jamie conceded. “But there are a hell of a lot of other changes I can make without consulting you. If you need to run this place on your own, then go ahead and run it, Eric.”
“No,” Tessa said, shaking her head in a quick staccato. “No, Jamie. What are you saying?”
He hated the fear in Tessa’s eyes, but he was done. He’d defined himself by his family for so long, but he was never going to be the good one, not even in his own mind. “Don’t worry, sis. I’m not going anywhere.”
Tears spilled over her eyes, but Jamie could only shake his head. He had to do what was best for himself. Not just what he wanted to do, but what was best, for once.
“Jamie, please don’t do this,” she said, her voice trembling with tears.
“The brewery is my home just as much as it is yours, Tessa. I’m not walking away from it. I’m just going to spread my wings a little.”
Eric frowned and crossed his arms again. “What are you talking about?”
Jamie met his brother’s eyes, and for the first time in a long while, he truly looked at him. The intensity in his blue gaze. The lines of stress around his eyes. The hard set of his mouth. Eric had carried the responsibility of this place since he was twenty-four years old. He’d carried his siblings as well, and it wasn’t good for any of them.
“I’m growing up, Eric. Just like you always wanted. And I can’t prove myself here.”
“You don’t need to prove yourself to me,” Eric muttered.
“You know what? It’s not really about you.”
Eric threw his hands up in disgust. “This is ridiculous. We open in five minutes. We’ll discuss this later.”
“Sure,” Jamie agreed. It didn’t matter when they discussed it. He wasn’t going to get anywhere with Eric. Tessa was right; Eric still saw them as kids. If Jamie wanted to stop being the little brother, he had to get out of here.
Eric walked out without another word, but Tessa stayed and another tear leaked from her eye, tracing a slow path down her face.
“Cut it out, Tessa.”
“You cut it out!” she yelled. “You shouldn’t say things like that. You’re just mad.”
“I’m not mad,” he said quietly.
She nodded, her eyes glinting with fear. “Yes, you are.”
“Look at me. Do I look mad?” He knew he didn’t, because it had all drained out of him. He’d screwed up one too many times. That night with Monica Kendall had been the last straw. Another moment of bad judgment on top of so many others. Not the worst mistake he’d ever made, though. Not by far.
Tessa must have seen the truth in his face, because she stepped closer and grabbed his arm. “What are you doing, Jamie? What are you talking about?”
“I’m growing up, Tessa.”
She lunged and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her cheek to his chest. “Please don’t.”
“Grow up?”
“No, don’t go. Please, Jamie. Don’t do this to us.”
He held his arms up, hoping she might let go. “I’m not doing anything to you.”
“Yes, you are!” she sobbed, and Jamie gave up any hope that she’d back off.
He lowered his arms and wrapped them slowly around his sister, sick at the way her back trembled.
“I don’t want to lose you, Jamie,” she whispered. “I can’t.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m still a Donovan Brother, just like you.” Instead of laughing at his pitiful joke, Tessa sobbed again, and he tightened his hold. “Tessa, I need a chance to stand up on my own.”
“You can stand up here. I’ll back you up, Jamie, I swear. Tell me your plans. What do you want to do?”
He wanted to reassure her. He really did. All Tessa had ever asked for was happiness for her brothers. But he didn’t have the energy to lie, and he could no longer see a way through this mess. Eric didn’t trust him, and Jamie couldn’t set aside his resentment long enough to be calm. In the end, he was saved by Henry.
“Um… Sorry to interrupt…” Henry’s eyebrows were nearly to his hairline as he eased one of the swinging doors open. “It’s eleven. Should I go ahead and unlock the doors?”
“Yes,” Jamie said quickly. “Thank you.”
Tessa squeezed him harder.
“We’ll talk about this later, Tessa. I’ve got to finish prepping.”
“No! I’m not going to—”
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to be here all day, and I’ll be in tomorrow and the day after that. Nobody’s running off, all right? Even if I decide to open another place, I’m not planning on breaking up the partnership.”
“You promise?” She eased back, swiping a sleeve over her face as she looked up at him. “I promise.”
She was still a mess when she left, but Jamie felt fine. A little too fine, actually. The calm was a welcome change, but letting all that anger out had left a hollow place inside him, like something important had been scooped out.
“It’s fine,” he murmured as he wound the cord around the vacuum. There was no time to finish sweeping the carpet. He hadn’t even taken the chairs off the tables yet.
Jamie raced through the rest of the cleaning, taking down chairs and wiping tables with such speed that sweat trickled down his neck. The thought of half the room being unvacuumed nagged at him. It nibbled at his calm.
There were few things in life he was good at, and the hollow place in his chest was like an echo chamber, reminding him that he’d left this job undone.
Jamie glanced at the doors one last time. If a customer walked in, they’d hardly find it welcoming to be hit by the roar of a vacuum, but there was a crushed pretzel in the far corner that he’d just noticed.
“Shit.” Jamie unwound the cord in record time and made a few frantic passes over the rest of the room. Just before he’d finished, a square of light burst across the floor as the front door open. Jamie flipped the switch and let silence fall over the room. Crap, he’d forgotten to turn on the music.
“Sorry, I’m running a little late today. If—” The rectangle shrunk as the door closed, and he could finally make out the customer as the glare subsided. The words died in Jamie’s throat. “You,” he breathed.
“Hello, Jamie,” Monica Kendall said. A million sparks sizzled through his brain at that moment. Shock. Shame. Anger. And worry. Worry blazed brighter than the others for a moment, and Jamie’s eyes fell to her stomach as he remembered the conversation he’d had with Olivia the other day. If I saw you looking like that a few months from now…
But, no. No, thank God, she was as slim and sleek as ever. The thought came and went with such suddenness that he felt dizzy. He hadn’
t even wanted the briefest connection with her, much less a lifetime. “What are you doing here?” he managed to get out on a rasp.
“I wanted to say hi, see how you’re doing.”
“You can’t be serious.”
The brittle smile slipped for a moment. “I saw your tweet and I was in the area….”
What the fuck was she talking about? He watched her as if she were a scorpion about to strike.
“I wanted to apologize for my brother.”
“For your brother?” he laughed. “Are you kidding me?”
Her eyes flashed with some hard emotion. She was as beautiful as ever, but she’d always had that icy edge. She practically glittered with it. “Jamie, I didn’t mean for that to happen. You have to believe me.”
“I don’t have to believe anything,” he scoffed, unplugging the vacuum and walking it to the small closet next to the bar. When he turned around, she was right there behind him.
“Jamie—”
The door opened again, and two bikers walked in, their clip shoes clicking against the tile. “Hey,” one of the guys said, raising a hand in greeting. “Two IPAs.”
“You got it,” Jamie said in relief, heading for the tap. But Monica didn’t leave. She started to step behind the bar with him, but when he shot her red high heel a look of warning, she moved back behind the line and waited impatiently.
He drew two pints and delivered them to the bikers, but when he tried to ease past Monica again, she grabbed his wrist. “Can we just talk for a minute?”
“The last time I gave you a minute, you took ten hours.” That wasn’t all she’d taken. He would’ve jerked his hand away, but he didn’t want Monica to know how much she affected him.
“I didn’t know—”
“Bullshit,” he said quietly. “You were the one to give him the code. While you were hanging on me, rubbing your tits against my arm, you were watching me enter the code. So don’t tell me you didn’t know.”
“Okay, I knew he wanted to get inside, but I swear, I thought he only wanted information. He said my father needed more data on—”
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