“Sure,” he said, voice oily as he turned to follow Carson. “Nice to meet you, Sammie.”
And then hewinked.
Kieran worried that the grip Sammie had on that vibrator was going to turn it to dust as they watched the two men head toward the taproom.
“We could slash his tires,” he offered. Sammie let out a harsh, cutting laugh.
“Blame it on Carson, somehow.” She turned toward him with a bitter grin.
“The kid doesn’t seem so bad.”
“He’s not a kid.” Sammie laughed again, lighter this time, and Kieran wanted to find a way to keep it going, to keep that easy smile on her face. “And heisthat bad. The duct tape is in the same place it always is.”
Kieran didn’t know if he was supposed to follow her as she walked back toward the canning line, but since she hadn’t outright dismissed him, he decided to stick around. Practice wouldn’t start for another hour.
And, well. He really wanted to know why a vibrator was needed for brewing beer.
“See? Same spot as always.” Sammie snatched up a roll of hot pink duct tape from her makeshift desk that was really just a folding table shoved into a corner. It was covered in loose items that Kieran couldn’t begin to name or guess what they wereused for. Vials and tools that looked more like they belonged in a science lab. Lined pages full of hastily scribbled notes. If there was a method to Sammie’s organizational madness, Kieran couldn’t see it.
“So.” He raised a brow at Sammie. “Whatisthat for?”
She sighed. “It’s for the whale tale.”
“There’s no way that is a real thing used in the making of beer.”
“It is.” Sammie snorted, holding the vibrator against the side of a large, flat bed of metal, slapping her hand against it. “The whale tail.” Its shape created a funnel of sorts, slanted so that the empty beer cans could slide toward the place where they formed a line waiting to be filled.
The sound of tearing duct tape pulled Kieran’s attention back to where Sammie was fastening the small, purple sex toy into place. She rose to her full height, pressing a button on the vibrator and gesturing toward the cans that began to shiver across the metal. “In theory, gravity and the vibrations should keep the cans moving toward the end of the funnel. Cuts out the need to have someone popping back down here to keep them going.”
“Looks like it’s working.”
Sammie grinned wide. It was sharp and confident, and it made Kieran’s insides swoop once again. “Looks like it is.” She paused, pushing cans from the edges that weren’t moving forward. “Might need a bigger one, though.”
“Do you think Carson even knows what that is?”
“Oh, he knows. But that doesn’t mean he knows how to use it.” A heartbeat passed before Sammie seemed to realize what she had just said, her cheeks lighting up a soft pink. “In a brewery, I mean.”
Kieran decided it was probably in everyone’s best interest for him to move past that comment. “Know what’s goingon in there?” He hooked a finger over his shoulder, toward the taproom, regretting the question as soon as storm clouds returned to Sammie’s eyes.
“No clue,” she huffed, turning the vibrator off before flopping into the rolling chair seated in front of her desk. “Robert doesn’t tell me anything unless it directly pertains to the beer I brew. He’s got a whole party going on in there, though, doesn’t he?”
Kieran turned to see that, in addition to Mark, two other men stood around Robert Everly. They were all the same kind of man—white, mid-thirties or forties, country club-frequenting, trust fund-having investor types. The sort that loved to pat one another on the back while they schemed up new ways to pad their bank accounts.
“He really doesn’t include you in meetings?”
That sharp, mirthless laugh again. “I’m just the girl who brews the beer, why should I be involved? Carson will be in on those meetings before me.”
Kieran thought back to the way Mark had walked in and assumed that Kieran was the head brewer. Not Sammie.
“Does that sort of thing happen a lot?” He pointed toward where they’d been standing when Robert’s buddy had arrived. “People not realizing you’re the one in charge back here?”
Sammie nodded, slow-burning flames in her blue eyes that Kieran swore he could feel the heat of. “All the time. A woman in this industry? You’d think I have a second head, the way they look at me when they realize.”
Nothing Kieran could think to say would make any real difference. His species was doomed if the majority didn’t see the muscles cording Sammie’s arms and think that maybe, just maybe,shedid the heavy lifting around here.
“I can see you trying to solve the problem of the rampant misogyny that is overwhelming our society, and I hate to break itto you, but I don’t think it can be brainstormed out of existence before your practice.”
Kieran flushed, scratching at his beard. “You’re probably right. Still, feels like somebody needs to acknowledge the fact that this place would be nothing without you.” And before his brain could register the movement, he was kicking a foot out, gently tapping his tennis shoe against Sammie’s work boot.
