After I’d gotten the job with the Bozeman location of Copper Summit, I’d bought several bottles to try. I’d tackled them like I had a semester final. I had been filled with excitement and ideas to promote the product. Unlike Brock, I had been through a tasting session at the distillery. I could sip and enjoy the flavors playing over my taste buds. Brock had nearly swallowed his tongue and snorted bourbon out his nose.
Annoyance crossed his face. “A good bourbon wouldn’t do that.”
I refrained from rolling my eyes and brought the drink I’d prepared to Jason.
“Thanks, Ruby,” he said. His gaze narrowed on me. “Everything okay?”
My face was hot. Embarrassment. Irritation. Frustration. The night had started out so well. My skin showed all my emotions. I didn’t tan well and flushed easily. “I’m good. Just getting a little warm.”
I grabbed some empty glasses on my way back to the bar and took a few more orders. When I returned, Cara and Brock had their foreheads tipped together. His bourbon remained untouched since his first attempt, but her glass was empty except for ice, mint leaves, and a lime wedge.
I took her glass. “Need a refill?”
“Yes, please, Ruby.”
I tensed, waiting for some dig after that, but she actually sounded sincere.
She draped herself over Brock and kissed him. It was no quick kiss. The two were making out. I had to endure the smacking sounds while preparing another mojito. The metallic clang of the shaker didn’t faze them. I was a helpless bystander.
Cara pulled away and licked her lips. “Mm.” Her dreamy gaze slid toward me. “We’re having our wedding in town.”
Surprise flitted through me. Mental note: find out when they were getting married and make sure I wasn’t in town. Another giant party I was not invited to. “Oh?”
“We’re moving here.” She kissed Brock’s cheek and somehow had enough lipstick left to leave an imprint on his skin. “I’m opening a real estate office, and his family’s decided to do the same.”
“That’ll make your lifeexciting.” Petty, yes, but Brock’s fleeting, irritated expression was so satisfying. “Congratulations again.” I continued assembling the drink orders. A lemonade special, a blackberry bourbon, and another bourbon mojito. They were bestsellers during the summer. I needed to make some posts with them, but I’d refrain in front of the two lovebirds.
“I hope it all works out.” Her pout returned and she spread her hands. “It was all falling into place for a whirlwind wedding, but then the country club called earlier and told me they’re no longer offering wet bar options. The person who was supposed to work our wedding quit, and they’re too short-staffed for the Fourth the week after.”
“That stinks.” I had no clue how country clubs worked, but Cara used to fantasize about being the happy bride, and she had her... well, Brock wasn’t Prince Charming, but she had her groom. “I’m sorry.”
She eyed the bottle of Original in my hand. “Does Copper Summit do wet bars?”
“I... don’t know.” I wasn’t involved in the everyday workings and that was something my boss, Wynter, would want to keep separate. The distillery social media feeds didn’t dig that deep into Copper Summit business.
Cara leaned over the bar. “The president of the club actually said that Copper Summit has provided wet bar service before. That’s why we came tonight.”
Brock grunted and looked away. “I suppose there’s no one in charge around to talk to.”
I wished I had more information, if only to make it seem like the social media girl wasn’t a lowly position in front of Brock. “I can leave a message for?—”
Cara gasped. “You could work it. Oh, I’d feel so much better if you were in charge. You’re so organized.”
Was that a compliment? Without an insult? “I’m not...”
“Or would that be weird?” Cara looked from me to Brock. “With your history?”
Yes. “I mean, I’m not going to create drama. I’m tooboringfor that.” I hadn’t been able to resist, and apparently, I was no better than Cara, getting digs in when I could. “You two are clearly in love.”
She beamed. Brock’s lips formed a line, but he grasped Cara’s hand. “I want you to have a stress-free day, baby,” he said to her. “No need to worry over any single ladies in attendance. I only have eyes for you.”
Maybe it was their affectionate display or having endured the sloppy make-out session, but Brock’s assumption that I was single and would be pining for him rubbed me in all the wrong ways. It was like having sex with him all over again. “I’m not single.”
Shit.
The lie was out, and I couldn’t take it back. I swallowed the acid crawling up my throat. At least I shouldn’t have to prove it.
“Then you should come as a guest. There are more people who can do the wet bar.”
