“Yeah, but what if it’s a flop?” I ask, even though part of me knows it’s the fear talking.
Besides, as much as I’d love to own my own place, I don’t want to give my boss the idea that I’m not grateful. St. Mary’s took a risk on me when I was just a punk kid who liked to lift weights.
“Dude, you’ve got a goldmine of followers, Adam. People wouldkillfor that kind of free advertising,” he counters, the certainty in his voice is both enviable and intimidating. “Hell,Iwould kill for that kind of advertising. Do you know how hard it’s been to get the bar to where it is now?”
I shoot him a sympathetic look and roll the pint glass between my hands, the coolness a sharp contrast to my warm skin.
If I close my eyes, I can picture it—my own space, my rules, my brand.
It’s definitely tempting, but the risk ...
“Look, you won’t know unless you try. No guarantee or magic fairy’ll grant your wishes. It’s about taking a leap and hoping for the best. That’s what I did with this place,” he says, gesturing around the brewery that’s become a local favorite. “You think I knew it’d be the inevitable hit and hotspot it is now?”
“But what if I’m just ... good at working for someone else? I know how to train people. But run a business?”
Brian leans in, his eyes locking onto mine. “You’re selling yourself short. And since when do you settle forjust good?”
He’s got a point. I’ve never been one to settle. Not with girlfriends who cheat or, hell, even my own fitness.
And in fitness, failure is a good thing. It means you’re making gains.
“Think about it,” he says, pulling back and giving me space to process. “I’ve seen you in action. You’re a natural leader, Adam. You inspire people. That’s a gift. It’s wasted at St. Mary’s.”
I take a long drink, letting the beer wash over my tongue, buying myself a moment.
“I just ... I don’t know if I’m ready,” I confess.
Brian levels me with one of his brotherly stares. “That’s the thing about leaps of faith—you’re neverreallyready. Are you? You just have to decide it’s worth the risk.”
His words resonate with a truth I can’t ignore. Maybe I am holding back, clinging to the safety of the familiar.
It’s something to chew on, along with the salted peanuts Brian slides my way. I pop a small handful into my mouth. Their crunch is a mundane distraction, but it’s a welcome one. It gives my brain a break from the bigger issues—like my career, and yes, even my tangled mess of a love life.
“So, speaking of jumps,” Brian says, breaking the silence that had settled between us, “have you thought about getting back out there? You know,dating?”
I nearly choke on a peanut. The question comes out of left field, but it’s Brian’s way. He’s not one to tiptoe around the tulips.
Either that, or he read my mind. Wouldn’t be the first time.
“Out there?” I scoff, chasing the nuts with a sip of beer. “In case you haven’t noticed,‘out there’is a dumpster fire.”
Brian chuckles, the sound rich with the kind of amusement only a sibling can muster. “Can’t be any worse than having to spotMr. Boned-Your-Girlevery day.”
The mention of Jillian’s new lay stirs the embers of annoyance, but I force a shrug. “I’ve had my own distractions.”
A flash of red hair burns through the recesses of my mind as quickly as it fades.
“Oh?” Brian perks up.“Do tell.”
I shake my head, a smirk playing on my lips despite the annoyance. “Can’t.”
His eyebrow arches in a silent challenge.
“It was a one-time thing,” I offer, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. I hadn’t planned on telling Brian about that night, but here we are.
“Like a one-night stand?” Brian presses, leaning in closer. “Or like, you don’t know if it will be more yet?”
I shrug, but I have no doubt he’ll read between the lines of my shitty grin.
