Ada noticed my clenched jaw and balled fists. Or maybe it was the way I was practically vibrating with restrained rage... Either way, she held up a hand between us like a stop sign. “I didn’t say anything until now because I knew you would overreact.”
“Overreact?” I asked slowly.
She went on like I hadn’t said anything. “And I was hoping he was going to say something to you. But obviously, he hasn’t and—”
“And?”
Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to figure out how to talk me off this ledge. Usually, Ada was the fiercest fighter for peace between my brothers and me. She treated mediation like a second job. It didn’t take a whole lot to get us at each other’s throats, so it probably was for her own peace and quiet. But this was beyond our normal scuffles.
So far beyond.
“I’m sure he can explain,” she finally said. “And I’m sure he was only using his girlfriend’s wealth of knowledge about these things to just... get a bigger picture before he brought it up to you. He wouldn’t do anything without you, Eliza. Especially not that.”
I wanted her to be right. The words sounded right as they hovered in the air over our heads. They sounded like exactly what I needed to hear.
But something in them rang false.
This bar, Craft, was owned by Will, Charlie, and me. It had been Will’s idea when we’d been given my dad’s surprise inheritance. Once we’d conceptualized the idea, we’d all immediately agreed that it was the best thing ever and we should do it.
But going about it had been slower than we’d expected. And getting the three of us to agree on anything had been nearly impossible. The location. The style. The name. The list of things we disagreed on went on and on.
There had been one pivotal night at the end of a very long day. Will and Charlie had been ready to rip each other apart for weeks. Finally, Charlie had had enough of Will lording his more responsible track record over Charlie’s less-than-blameless head, and he’d stormed out in a huff. Charlie had sworn he’d never go into business with either of us, and he would keep his third of the money and move to Bali and “screw Dad!” or some nonsense like that. Will had finally pushed him over the just-go-live-on-the-beach-somewhere-and-go-fishing-and-surfing-every-day edge.
Will and I had started drinking the second he was gone. Both of us were exhausted with the process of opening a business that required a liquor license with our dad’s money and learning how to tolerate each other in a professional environment on a daily basis.
We were working on our third sheet in three sheets to the wind when he confided that he had a backup plan if this all went south. If Charlie and I didn’t want to do things Will’s way, he was going to do it on his own. He’d been approved for a business loan to supplement mine and Charlie’s third. He had the name, the philosophy, and even the location.
After another beer, he even admitted that he might do it alone anyway. He would make a whole lot more money if he didn’t have to split it with us. Life would be a whole lot simpler if he didn’t have to run everything by us. He would be awhole lothappier on his own without us.
I’d played it off so he would keep spilling his guts, but I’d been heartbroken. Will didn’t usually get that drunk... but it had been a stressful time in our lives, and the strange pain of losing our dad, even though we mostly hated him, had left us raw and prickly.
By morning, Charlie had calmed down and showed up with bagels and coffees as his way of an apology. Will had gotten over the brunt of his anger too. We decided later that day on the name Craft and on this location.
Will never mentioned his solo plans again.
And I never mentioned that I knew Craft was his original idea, and this was the location he’d planned to use with or without us.
Back then, I couldn’t see the point of fighting about something that would never happen.
But now, Ada’s revelation brought it back into the light. Will was better at saving than Charlie and I were. He always had been. But he also lived above the bar, so he didn’t have the expenses that Charlie and I did, living on our own. His rent and utilities were included with the main expenses of the bar. We deducted a portion of his salary to cover his personal costs. Still, we also let him get away with whatever he wanted because he was basically on call twenty-four seven since he lived here.
Meaning he just might have the capital to open a bar on his own. And if he was serious about Lola—who came from her own level of success and money—he might want a more stable situation. Aka a bigger paycheck.
Or maybe it was something they wanted to do together. With Will’s experience in the bar scene, Lola’s extensive business résumé,andher family’s financial backing... they could do whatever they wanted without Charlie and me.
I thought about Will’s friends—other than Jonah—who were all restaurateurs with popular restaurants and national acclaim. Was he worried about stuff like that? Keeping up with the Joneses?
But they weren’t really the Joneses, were they? They all had their own stories of meager beginnings and hardship. It was more like a survival club than a group of douchebags trying to one-up each other with new restaurants and fancy cars. Although someone always did seem to have a brand-new, shiny one or the other.
Dang.
“Eliza?” Ada asked in a tone that signified this wasn’t her first attempt to get my attention.
I jumped off the spinning carnival ride of my mind and stepped back into the here and now. “Sorry?”
“You can’t kill him,” she said slowly. “He’s your brother, and you love him.”
I smiled softly at her reminder. But the thing about brothers was that they were some of the few people you could hate just as much as you loved them. “I’m not going to kill him, Ada. Maim, maybe. Assault, probably. Stab, definitely. But I won’t actually kill him.”
