Better Luck Next Time

by Denise Grover Swank

  “Do you think they’ll go for it?” she asked, no preliminaries. “River left without even taking a meeting with us. And the temperature on the ground has been decidedly cold.”

  “There’s only one way to find out,” he said. “But yeah, I don’t see why not. It would be to everyone’s benefit. If you’re agreeable to the proposal, I can make the initial contact with River and Georgie. You might want to use someone else to approach the other brewers, but I knew them personally.”

  “A lot of good it did you last time,” she said. Though her remark was tongue in cheek, it still stung.

  “Fair enough. Let’s see if I learned my lesson.”

  Because he really, really hoped he had. He’d changed, hadn’t he? He felt like he’d changed, but the measure of a man was in what he did more than what he said or felt. Act like an ass, and you better start braying, because you’ve become one, his grandfather had once said to his father, which had made a seventeen-year-old Finn burst out laughing.

  “Okay,” she said. “Yes, talk to him. If Buchanan steps on board, it’ll help ease the way for the others.”

  “Thanks, Gretchen. I think this is going to work.”

  A pause, then she said, “I think it will too. You’re good at this, and I don’t say that lightly. Let me know how it goes.”

  After they hung up, he texted River, asking if he could get together tonight or sometime tomorrow. Of course, right after he sent the first message, he realized River was going to think he wanted to talk about Adalia, which he didn’t really, or at least not in the same conversation in which he pitched the Bev Corp event. So he added, Not about Adalia. But he also didn’t want to give River the impression he wasn’t serious about Adalia, so he added: Not that I haven’t been thinking a lot about Adalia, because I have, but it’s not about her. It’s a business thing. Georgie should probably be there too. Nothing horrible. I promise.

  What about tomorrow night? River asked. You can come over for dinner.

  It might infringe on his tentative sleepover plans with Adalia, but this was important too. Hell, maybe she’d want to join them at River and Georgie’s place.

  Sounds good.

  Finn set his phone aside, not wanting to badger Adalia while she was doing the whole brother-sister bonding thing with Jack, and he found himself thinking of what she’d said a couple of days ago. Something about him being a creator too, only he created businesses. He hadn’t given it much thought at the time—he’d never felt creative—but maybe she’d seen something in him he hadn’t seen in himself. Gretchen had said, You’re good at this. And Sean, earlier, had asked him about consulting.

  He took out his laptop and started working, and before he knew it, it was after midnight.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Finn’s texts had made Adalia feel like she was floating in a happy bubble, but the bubble burst midafternoon when Lee texted saying he’d gathered some information and wanted to video chat with Adalia and Georgie so they were all on the same page.

  Okay, she’d texted back, but give me a few minutes to catch Georgie up to speed.

  Hurry. My window of availability isn’t very wide.

  Meaning Victoria and/or their father might swoop in at any moment. Lee was like a prisoner in some ways, but she couldn’t feel too bad for him given it was a prison of his own making.

  After Adalia’s meltdown the week before, Georgie had moved her desk out to a small room beneath the stairs—too large to be just a supply closet but not quite large enough to be anything else. Adalia fondly called it her cupboard under the stairs. Right now she felt reluctant to leave its safety, but she forced herself to get up and head to her sister’s office, clutching her phone in a death grip.

  Why was she so nervous? Georgie knew about the whole Alan mess, so this wouldn’t come as a total surprise. Still, she knew Georgie would be hurt that she’d held back.

  Adalia stopped at the partially open door and knocked on the wood trim. Georgie was staring at her computer, her brow furrowed, but she glanced up and smiled brightly when she saw her sister.

  “How’s Tyrion?” she asked, pushing her chair away from her desk a few inches. “He’s such a sweetheart. Hops was so worn out he didn’t ask to go out in the middle of the night. We’ll have to set up another playdate soon.”

  Adalia’s eyes bugged out. “Puppies need nighttime bathroom breaks?”

  Tyrion had slept through the night, climbing up onto the bed next to her at some point and cuddling with her. The dog was a furnace. He’d definitely come in handy when it got cold.

  She walked into the office and sat in a chair in front of the desk. “I guess it’ll help break you in for when you and River make gorgeous babies.” She made a face. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

  Georgie gawked at her, seemingly stuck on the making babies comment.

  “Surely you and River have discussed babies.”

  Her face turned an adorable shade of pink. “Sort of…”

  Adalia gave her a stern look and lowered her voice. “Do I need to give River a talking-to about his intentions?”

  Georgie laughed, but it sounded forced. “I know he’s saving for a ring, although I have no idea how since the brewery’s still not making a profit and he refuses to accept the full salary in his contract. I suspect that’s why he’s looking into setting up an online class to teach hobbyists how to make beer or improve their technique.”

  Adalia’s brow lifted. “That’s actually a great idea. Is he doing it under the Buchanan umbrella? It could be a huge draw.”

  Georgie nibbled on her lower lip. “We haven’t talked logistics. He only mentioned it last night, but he said he’s been thinking about it since he was still at Big Catch.”

  “Maybe we should tell Lee about it. He’d probably be interested, being that he’s one-fourth owner and all,” Adalia said. Georgie gave her an odd look, as if she’d just spoken complete nonsense, and she supposed her sister had a point. Lee had made it clear he had zero personal interest in the brewery. “Or maybe we can talk about that later. Either way, Lee wants to have a video call with us. Is this a good time?”

  Georgie’s mouth dropped open. “Why does he want to talk to us?”

  Adalia steeled herself with a deep breath. “Georgie. Alan’s been sending me more texts.”

  Before her sister could respond, she told her about the threatening messages and then Alan’s attempt to extort Lee by threatening Buchanan Luxury.

  Georgie’s face lost color. “What?”

  “Lee said things weren’t adding up, so he was going to call the gallery to get more information. Now he wants to video chat with us both.”

  Georgie gaped at her for a second before shaking off the surprise and shifting into efficient big sister mode. She turned to her computer and tapped on her keyboard, and within seconds, the call was going through. After shifting the monitor to face the visitor chairs, Georgie got up and shut the door.

  “Hey, Lee,” Adalia said when he answered, her stomach twisting with nerves.

  “Is Georgie there?” He was wearing a dress shirt and tie and didn’t look nearly as relaxed as he had the day before. Was it the environment he was currently in, or did he have really bad news?

  “Present,” Georgie said, taking a seat in the chair next to Adalia’s. “I hear I’ve missed a few things.”

  “As have I,” he said curtly, “which is why a group chat seemed prudent.”

  “Maybe we should bring Jack in,” Adalia said dryly. “For the first time he can be on our side of one of these video chats.”

  Lee’s brow lifted. “Jack knows?”

  Adalia heard the accusation in his voice loud and clear. How could she tell Jack—a brother she’d only just met—before she told Lee? “Calm down. He doesn’t know.”

  “Addy said you were calling the gallery,” Georgie said, moving the conversation along with her usual efficiency.

  “Yeah. I spoke to the director this morning. Apparently there was som
e damage to the walls and flooring. They’re seeking reimbursement for the damages.”

  “But that asshole stole her work!” Georgie protested, her face turning red.

  “They don’t know the full story,” Lee said, “but they do know things aren’t adding up. One of the staff members was there that night, and she thought she heard Addy accuse Stansworth of stealing her work, but before she could intervene, Addy was trashing the pieces. Of course, the staff member called the police, and we know the rest. Stansworth assured them the sculptures were his work, and turns out we’re not the only one he’s pressing for money. He insisted their insurance reimburse him, claiming the crime was committed on their property, which makes them liable. I guess he came to them with this whole sob story about Adalia being a mentally disturbed former lover who did it out of revenge. That’s his story for why he dropped the criminal charges and asked them not to file any. He claimed he’d pay for their damages…after he was reimbursed by the insurance company.”

  “They’re going to pay him for my work?” Adalia asked, feeling violated all over again. She’d destroyed her sculptures—pieces she loved—so he couldn’t profit off her work, but he’d found a way to get paid anyway. And she was furious too, enough to raze a mountain. How dare he act like she was mentally unstable when he was the one who’d driven her to the brink?

  “No, not yet. They’ve been stalling the insurance company because of the discrepancies in his story. They’ve actually been trying to find Addy, but they had no idea how to reach her since she didn’t leave a forwarding address and Alan claimed he didn’t know how to get in touch with her. They didn’t realize she had ties to us.”

  “So they do want to take action against me,” Adalia said.

  “Maybe not,” Lee said, rubbing the back of his neck. “The gallery director wants to talk to you. She wants to hear your side of the story.”

  “Is that really a good idea?” Adalia asked. “Don’t I need an attorney?” She turned to Georgie.

  Georgie gave it a moment’s thought, then said, “If their attorney isn’t present, then I think it would be fine, but I would want to sit in on the call.” She nodded to the computer screen. “And Lee too, of course.”

  “I can see if they’re amenable to a group video chat,” Lee said, “but I think it would send a better message if you go in person. The good news is the director genuinely seems interested in discovering the truth about what happened. I got the impression she thinks Stansworth is shady.”

  “What if they don’t believe the pieces were mine?” Adalia asked.

  “I already told them I have photographic proof,” Lee said. “I took photos in the studio when I dropped by for a visit a few months before you went to the gallery.”

  “But it was Alan’s studio,” she said, feeling sick to her stomach. “He can just say I was posing with his art.”

  “And welding something onto one of the sculptures?” Lee said.

  It wasn’t really proof, and they all probably knew it, but it was something. It was definitely something.

  Georgie shot her a look she didn’t need to be a mind reader to understand. Her sister had lied to Stansworth, saying she had photos of Adalia sculpting the pieces. It had been a lie, so far as they knew. If they had opened the conversation to Lee months ago, they might have worked through this a whole lot sooner.

  She nodded, feeling unsettled, wishing Finn were here to hold her hand and reassure her that everything was going to be okay.

  When had she become so clingy? The fact that she felt like she needed him left her more unsettled.

  “Thanks, Lee,” she said. “You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”

  “I’m gonna nail this bastard to the wall.” He shot a glare at his older sister. “Which is what should have been done in the beginning.” He glanced to the side and made a face. “Gotta go. I’ll get in touch after I make the arrangements.”

  Before they could respond, he disconnected the call. He hadn’t asked about their schedules—in his usual Lee way, he’d assumed they’d be able to drop everything and hop on a plane at a moment’s notice. Then again, he wasn’t wrong, at least not about her. And a quick glance at Georgie told her what she’d already known on some level: her sister would make the time for this too.

  The two sisters were quiet for a long moment. Then Georgie asked in a soft voice, “Do you think Lee is right? That I should have handled it more aggressively from the beginning?”

  “Aggressive isn’t your style,” Adalia said.

  “Which is why I wonder if we should have gone to Lee in the first place.”

  “For what it’s worth,” Adalia said, taking her sister’s hand, “I wouldn’t change a thing. Going aggressive in the beginning would have been a mistake, and I wasn’t ready for it. But Lee is a good backup team.”

  “More like cleanup.”

  “No, backup. We both went with the approach we thought would work best, and you got him to drop the charges. That was no small thing.”

  Georgie nodded, but she didn’t seem fully convinced.

  Adalia squeezed her sister’s hand. “I love you. I’m glad I’m here with you.”

  “I love you too.” Georgie studied her for a moment, her expression changing. “You look happier. Does that have anything to do with Finn?”

  The corners of her mouth ticked up. “I wondered how long it would take for you to bring that up again.”

  Georgie hesitated. “Maybe I was too harsh. Finn seems nice enough, but I worry that loyalty isn’t his strong suit. Just be careful with your heart, okay?”

  It wasn’t much of an improvement on Georgie’s previous assessment of Finn, but Adalia had to admit her sister had a point. Was the Big Catch situation a one-off, or was Finn capable of doing something like that again, but with her this time?

  “Thanks for the advice,” Adalia said with a small smile. “I bet River appreciates having the wisdom of a much older woman at his disposal.”

  Georgie gasped, then playfully swatted Adalia’s arm. “Ugh! He’s only three years younger.”

  Laughing, Adalia shook her head. “I’m teasing, but you make it much too easy. There’s something else I wanted to mention,” she said, getting to her feet. “I’m going out for drinks tomorrow night with Maisie and an artist I met last week, Blue Combs. She’s amazing. Would you like to join us? We could both use a girl’s night out.”

  Georgie looked excited at first—obviously she needed a night out; the woman even dreamed about work—but it quickly faded. “I can’t. For one thing, I’m not Maisie’s favorite person.”

  “Why?” Adalia asked. “Does it have anything to do with the tension between her and River? It was thick enough to gag on yesterday.”

  Georgie hesitated, then said, “I don’t know this for certain, but I’m fairly sure Maisie has a thing for him.”

  “They’ve been friends forever,” Adalia protested. But she thought back to the meeting—to the hostility Maisie had shown toward River before she softened at his mention of her dog. It made sense.

  “Which makes it hard,” Georgie said. “Especially since River has no idea.”

  Did Finn know? She suspected he did based on the way he’d acted at the rescue shelter. After seeing River’s car, he’d avoided the back room like a vampire at the entrance to a garlic festival.

  “You said for one thing,” Adalia said. “What’s the other?”

  “Finn’s coming over for dinner tomorrow night.”

  Adalia felt like her world had turned slightly lopsided. “What?”

  “You didn’t know? I thought you might be coming, but Finn told River it didn’t have anything to do with you. He said it was a business thing.”

  Which meant Finn wanted to discuss the beer festival with them. She understood why he’d want to do that alone, but a part of her wished she’d found out from him instead of Georgie.

  “No…but he knows I have plans tomorrow night,” Adalia said, a little discomfited although she co
uldn’t put her finger on why. When had he set this up, anyway?

  Georgie studied her again. “This is what worries me. I get why you like him. Finn’s a fun guy, but I’m just not convinced he’s dependable.”

  Adalia wanted to laugh off her sister’s paranoia, but she’d trusted Alan too, in the beginning, and look what had happened there. Of course, Finn was nothing like Alan.

  If Finn let her down, it would crush her so much more.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Finn had spent most of his day in virtual meetings with Sean and Mo—guiding them through his idea and how it would work on a practical level—so there hadn’t been much time to process what this dinner with River and Georgie could mean.

  Why had he agreed to talk over dinner, anyway? He regretted it the moment River opened the door to his loft apartment. Not because of the smell—it smelled amazing, like an Italian restaurant—but what had he been thinking? If Georgie and River balked at the idea of the beer festival, would he have to sit through dinner and dessert, awkwardly staring at them across the table? Or would they maybe kick him out? He hadn’t eaten lunch, and he was starving.

  Of course, going hungry was hardly his biggest worry. His friendship with River was already strained, and if he wanted things to work out with Adalia, he needed to improve her sister’s impression of him, not worsen it.

  River clapped him on the back. “Come on in. Georgie and I made lasagna.” Hops had joined them at the door, wagging his tail wildly. He had an old black sandal clenched in his teeth.

  “Whoa, is that the sandal?” Finn asked, surprised by how big Hops had gotten, although he was still very much a puppy.

  “He used to hump it, and now he carries it around like a chew toy. Admittedly, we did get him neutered, so not much humping goes on around here anymore.”

  Finn had to bite his lip. If Adalia had been here, she would have made an off-color joke. God, he wished she were here. He’d texted her earlier to let her know about the dinner. He’d ask if she’d be up for joining them after her girls’ night, in the event that River and Georgie didn’t throw him out the moment he mentioned Bev Corp, but she’d been noncommittal. He suspected she didn’t want anything to interfere with her bonding time with Maisie and Blue, and truthfully he was okay with that. He wanted her to stay in Asheville, and that meant she needed reasons to stick around. Maybe he was arrogant, but he wasn’t arrogant enough to think he was enough.