Any Luck at All: Asheville Brewing #1

by Denise Grover Swank

  Once Georgie’s feet hit the ground, Josie burst out through the back door. She was wearing a pink tulle ballgown along with small pink gossamer fairy wings, a large tiara on her head, and a wand in her hand. “Oh, drat! I heard you went flying, Georgie, but it looks like I missed it.”

  “Sorry,” Georgie said, looking down and realizing she was missing a shoe.

  Josie reached for her hand and started to drag her toward the house. “You have to come in and have your fortune read.”

  Shaking her head, Georgie said, “No. I already know my fortune. I’m going home.”

  “Here,” Lurch said, handing her a red plastic cup. “This’ll help.”

  Without thinking, she accepted the cup and took a big gulp…then spit out the liquid all down the front of her dress. “Oh my word! What is this?”

  “That’s the point,” Lurch said with a hiccup. “You’re supposed to guess.”

  Adalia took a sip, then made a face. “This tastes like cat pee.”

  Georgie shot her a suspicious look. “And how would you know what cat pee tastes like?”

  Twisting her mouth to the side, Adalia grimaced. “Some things are better left to the imagination.”

  Georgie wasn’t so sure about that. Her imagination hadn’t been good to her lately. “I’m going home.”

  “But Georgie…” Josie protested.

  “I’m going home,” she said more firmly, starting to limp toward the gate.

  “You’re going to disappoint Dottie,” Adalia said, running over to her. “And I think your shoe might be in the bounce house. And I still have to see that statue. We’re already here, so can we just go in and see it? Please?”

  “You go in and I’ll wait in the car.”

  “No!” Josie and Adalia both said in unison, and Georgie had to wonder why they wanted her in the house so badly. What new horror awaited her inside?

  Adalia took her hand and walked backward, dragging her sister with her. “Let’s just go inside for a minute, Georgie, please. And then if you still want to go home, I’ll chauffeur you. You can sit in the back and everything. But please come with me.”

  Georgie knew Adalia wanted to see the statue, but this was borderline obsessive. “You promise we can go home after you see it?”

  Adalia nodded her head enthusiastically. “Yes. Cross my heart and hope to die.” She made an X over her chest with her fingers.

  “Fine,” Georgie grunted. “I’ll give you five seconds, then I’m leaving, even if I have to walk home with one shoe.”

  Adalia pulled Georgie through the back door while Josie followed closely behind, as if to make sure Georgie didn’t escape.

  A few employees congregated in the kitchen, talking and grabbing snacks from the kitchen counter. They stopped and stared at Georgie with open mouths.

  “Oh Lord,” Georgie moaned. “Why are they looking at me like that?”

  Coming to a halt, Adalia grimaced, then tugged the hem of Georgie’s dress out of the back of her panties.

  “Oh God…have I been flashing everyone my underwear?”

  “Calm down,” Adalia said, reaching up and trying to smooth Georgie’s hair. “People see worse at the beach.”

  “Excuse me,” one of the men asked, rushing through the back door. Ted from packaging, if she remembered correctly. “My wife is wondering where you purchased your underwear.”

  Georgie stared at him in disbelief but found herself answering, “Moon Goddess.”

  His face brightened. “She thought so, but she was wondering if it was from the Neptune or the Venus line?”

  Could this night get any worse?

  She plastered on a smile. “Neither. The Athena.”

  Ted nodded, his head bobbing like a hand pump. “Okay, then. Thank you.”

  “Do you think Buchanan will sell underwear like that?” Josie asked in her breathy voice as Ted rushed out the back door. She sounded hopeful.

  Georgie reached up to cover her face with her hands, but her fingertip touched something thin and metallic on her forehead. When she pulled her hand away, she found a quarter-inch, circular piece of silver glitter. It was then that she looked down and realized she was covered in it.

  “Where did the glitter come from?” she asked, looking Adalia in the eyes.

  Her sister’s brow shot up while her mouth tipped up in an apologetic smile. “The bounce house.”

  “It floats when you jump,” Josie said. “Just like in a fairyland.”

  “Of course it does.”

  “You really should try it,” Josie said. “We could both go right now.” She grabbed Georgie’s hand and started to drag her toward the back door.

  “While that sounds fun,” Adalia said, intervening, “I think Georgie should go back to the fortune room and take a moment to collect herself.”

  Josie’s eyes flew wide with excitement. “Oh! I can read her future.”

  Adalia’s head tipped to the side. “Let’s let Georgie handle her own future.” She steered Georgie past the sculpture, which was fully clothed and holding an empty beer can, and down a short hall, past a line of people.

  Did all of these people need to pee already?

  Stopping in front of a closed door with a sign in front of it that read, Find out your future…if you dare. At least ¼ may learn something devastating, Adalia stopped and plucked a piece of glitter from Georgie’s cheek.

  “No cutting in line!” someone called out.

  “You want your fortune?” Adalia asked in a threatening tone. “I’ll give you your fortune—your entire career depends on this woman, and if she wants to go first, you’ll let her.”

  Georgie shook her head. “But I don’t want to go first.”

  “Trust me, Georgie, You do.”

  “What are you doing, Addy?” Georgie asked, nearly too weary to care.

  “Trying to make you more presentable.” But then she surveyed Georgie and shook her head. “There’s no coming back from this.”

  “What?”

  Adalia shook her head, grabbing her upper arms and giving her a grim smile. “Trust your heart, Georgie. I swear it won’t let you down.”

  The door opened then, as if the person inside truly were psychic, and Addy shoved her into the room.

  Chapter Forty

  River hadn’t thought he’d actually have to tell people’s fortunes. Josie had promised to bring Georgie to him straightaway, and since she wasn’t the most reliable person in his acquaintance, he’d texted Adalia to tell him where he was waiting.

  You owe me, she’d written back. I think I’ll take an art lesson with Dottie as my payment.

  Your funeral, he’d replied.

  So when the first person knocked, his heart leapt in his chest, and he jumped off the bed, nearly tripping over a tent pole in his haste to answer.

  He opened the door, ready to let all the things he’d been feeling pour out. Ready to tell Georgie the fullness of what he felt for her, but he only got two words out—“I love”—before he realized it wasn’t Georgie at all, but Blanche the brewery accountant. Blanche, who’d openly ogled him every time he came over to see Beau, even though her twin sons had been two years ahead of him in high school. She’d been one of the first people to congratulate him on getting the job.

  She beamed at him, fluffing her bouffant of peroxide-blond hair.

  “—telling fortunes,” he finished lamely.

  Her face fell a little, but then her gaze landed on the tent setup. He’d turned on the twinkle lights Josie had used to line the edge of the tent and switched off the overhead light, thinking it would create a more romantic atmosphere. He’d set out two large floor pillows on either side of Josie’s crystal ball.

  “Ooh, that looks cozy,” she said with a wink. “Why don’t we take a seat?”

  Perhaps he’d been too successful.

  “Um, I can already see your future,” River said, waving his fingers through the air as if pulling back the celestial curtain. “You’re going to have a grand
child within the year.”

  He’d thought it a pretty innocuous thing to say—one of the twins’ wives looked so pregnant she was probably on her way to the hospital—but she gasped as if scandalized.

  “I knew it, the little hussy,” she snapped. “I told her this would happen if she didn’t stay away from the brewery.” Which was when he remembered she also had a twenty-one-year-old daughter. “Which one of ’em did it? Huh? Was it Daniel?”

  What in the world had he gotten himself into?

  “Uh…the future is too hazy for me to see anything else.”

  “Can’t you try the ball?” she asked, gesturing to it.

  “The reception isn’t great in here.” He gestured to the walls. “You know what it’s like with these old houses. Thick walls.”

  She pouted, and it seemed like she was on the verge of saying something else, but someone knocked on the door.

  River practically lunged for it, but it wasn’t Georgie.

  “River,” Tom said with surprise. “Why weren’t you at the party earlier?”

  Blanche pursed her lips and stomped off. River had a feeling Daniel was about to get an earful.

  “Thank God it’s you,” he said, pulling Tom inside. He saw the long line of people waiting to have their fortunes read. Should he just leave? Call Georgie so they could have this conversation over the phone?

  But if Josie and Adalia really followed through on their part of the bargain, this would be the best place for him to talk to Georgie tonight. They certainly weren’t going to get a moment alone anywhere else. Even from this room, he could hear the shouting and music—was that K-pop?—from the backyard. He lifted the curtains and glanced out the window, hoping he’d get a look at her, but all he saw was Lurch riding a donkey.

  “This is a disaster,” he groaned, running his hand through his hair and closing the door.

  By the time he turned around, Tom was sitting on one of the floor pillows, patiently waiting as if he actually expected River to read his fortune.

  Since he’d rather sit with Tom than with any of the other people in line, River sighed and pulled the second pillow next to the twin bed before sitting.

  Tom looked at him expectantly, and River peered into the crystal ball.

  “Um. You’ll find great love and meaning within the next year,” he said. Tom was a single widower in his sixties, and he seemed on the lonely side, so River hoped it was true.

  “Thanks, River,” Tom said, beaming back at him. “I surely hope so.”

  The grin he gave River made him fleetingly grateful he’d been in the tent instead of Josie—the last thing Tom needed was to be told he’d be eviscerated by wolves or would die alone in a vat of his own tears. But the next person who came in was Daniel, who was (understandably) pissed about the whole Blanche thing. He also complained that River didn’t look enough like a fortune-teller, which River waved off, but by the time the fifth person came in, River had tied a sparkly blue scarf around his head out of pure boredom.

  When the sixth person knocked, River was about ready to give up. He scrawled a sign on an old sheet of paper from the desk drawer—Closed due to curse—and opened the door ready to post it, but he dropped it when he saw her. Or, more accurately, when she was nearly shoved into him.

  Georgie’s light blue dress was soaked with something that smelled like beer, huge pieces of glitter clung to it in places, and she only had on one shoe.

  She’d never looked more beautiful.

  Her eyes lit up when she saw him, then landed and lingered on the scarf, which he immediately tugged off, his ears burning.

  “Nice look, River,” Adalia said with a laugh. “Or should I call you Madam Mysterio?” She stooped to retrieve his sign before shutting the door, so hopefully they wouldn’t be bothered every two minutes by relentless knocking. Turned out the people of Buchanan Brewery were aggressively interested in psychic readings.

  “What happened to you?” they asked at mostly the same time.

  She laughed, a little nervously he thought, and he took her hand—grateful when she gave it to him—and led her over to the cushions, which he pushed into their original configuration.

  “I’m sorry about earlier,” he said as they sat next to each other, her heat pressed to him. “Hops ate a chocolate bar, and I had to make sure he was okay. I wouldn’t have missed it otherwise. It felt awful not being there.”

  Something in her expression loosened at that, like she’d been carrying a weight he’d just eased.

  “Is he all right?”

  “Yeah,” he said, rubbing his thumb against her hand. “He’s going to be okay.”

  “River.” She looked into his eyes. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t handle any of this well. The brewery should be yours. I’m going to sign my part over to you in the morning, and I’ll do everything in my power to convince my sister and brothers to do the same. It’s not right—”

  She stopped, as if finally registering he was shaking his head.

  “I don’t want that,” he said. “And Beau didn’t want it either. He wanted you and your family to be a part of what he’d made. I’m sorry for the way I reacted yesterday… I felt blindsided, and I didn’t stop to think about what all of this was doing to you. You were backed into a corner, and instead of offering you a hand, I turned my back on you. Which is something I never, ever want to do again.”

  He took her other hand as he said it, and she let him, looking at him with something like wonder. “Georgie, I want to do this with you. All the way. I’ve never in my life felt more fulfilled than working with you. Being with you. And I don’t want to hide what we have.”

  She cringed a little at that. “I know. I’m sorry about my brothers. But I’ll take care of it. I promise.”

  “You don’t need to worry about that anymore,” he said. “I talked to Jack, and he agreed to back off. And from what I understand, Adalia made a lot of headway with Lee.”

  Shock radiated from her. “You did that for me?” A pause. “I feel like this has to be an incredibly vivid dream. Jane Eyre was my favorite book in high school, and you are pretending to be a fortune-teller. Don’t think Adalia’s the only one who noticed that scarf earlier.”

  “Oh, there was no pretending,” he said with a chuckle. “I gave readings for five people, and I stuck to Josie’s one-fourth rule. It was brutal for poor Kevin in sales.

  “So what happened in Jane Eyre?” he asked, pulling her closer. “I can’t say I’ve ever read it.”

  She pursed her lips. “Well, the man Jane loved pretended to be a fortune-teller so he could say things to her he wouldn’t say out in the open.”

  “Huh. That’s messed up.”

  “Yeah”—she arched her brow—“he had to be careful because his crazy wife was living up in the attic.” She glanced up dramatically.

  River huffed a laugh. “And this was your favorite book?” He pulled one of his hands away, but only so he could gesture toward the window. “Don’t worry. All my crazy is out in the open, and if you still want to be with me after seeing all of this…” The donkey wandered by, chewing on some of Aunt Dottie’s flowers, as if to punctuate his point. “…I’m all yours.”

  She kissed him then—a soft kiss that quickly turned fierce, and by the time she pulled away she was panting.

  “I love you, River.”

  The surety with which she said it, the fire in her eyes…he’d never felt happier and fuller than he did in this moment. Than he did with this woman.

  “Hey,” he said, running his fingers down the curve of her cheek, “I was going to say it first.” Then he sucked in a breath, bolstering himself for the words he’d never said to a woman before, other than his near brush with Blanche. “I love you, Georgie.”

  He kissed her first this time, savoring the taste of her, the closeness, knowing he never wanted to pull away. He tugged Georgie the rest of the way onto his lap, hands on her hips, her curves, any part of her he could touch, and she slid a hand under his shirt, ru
nning it across his abs.

  He went to take it off, which was when he saw Lurch giving him a thumbs-up from outside the window.

  “Um, I think we should probably get out of here,” he said to Georgie, pulling back a little.

  Her gaze shot to the window, and she jumped a little in his arms. “Yes, please. Immediately.”

  “Should we look for your other shoe?”

  She glanced down at her foot and shook her head a little. “No. Let’s not chance it. Maybe Josie will find it.” A side of her mouth ticked up. “She’s good at collecting my clothes.”

  He stood up and pulled her up with him, Georgie’s eyes widening as he lifted her into his arms.

  “I’m pretty sure there’s probably at least a dozen abandoned crystals on the floor out there,” he explained, “and I don’t want you to hurt your feet.”

  She tipped her head up and kissed him at that, and he almost forgot Lurch was at the window, and there were people outside the room waiting for fortune readings, and this whole party was a massive disaster unfolding around them. But when he edged back toward the bed, she poked him.

  “No, we need to get out of here before it’s too late. If we don’t hurry, there’s going to be a fire or a flood, or who knows what, and we’ll never have the chance.”

  He opened the door, ready to sneak out—although how he was supposed to do that with the boss in his arms, he didn’t know—only to find everyone gathered in a semicircle at the end of the hall, Aunt Dottie standing next to the Beau statue, Adalia grinning at them from Beau’s right-hand side, in front of an enormous cake. It had been decorated with surprisingly accurate renditions of Georgie and River.

  “Surprise!” Adalia said. “Dottie spent hours working on it. It was my idea! Want to make the first cut?” She held out a knife, and it was only then River caught sight of the computer set up in the corner, Jack watching everything unfold with a look of fascinated horror, as if wondering what he was in for if, or when, he did move to Asheville.

  “Sure,” he said, because why not.

  He exchanged a look with Georgie, who said, “You better not cut off my nose.”

  The moment was weirdly, wonderfully perfect. He had a feeling they’d remember the day Buchanan Brewery closed down for years to come. That one day they might tell heavily edited versions of this story to their kids.