“I’ve got a bad feeling about this place.” He shook his head. “Been feeling it for a while now. Bossman with his shady investor meetings, and now people are losing their jobs. It’s not sitting right, and I’d rather get out now than be blindsided later.”
His words settled over her heavily. Her finger rubbed against her thumb, the urge to pick at the skin there building steadily. “I’ll be sad to see you go.” She would be. Eli was one of the few bright spots left for her in this place.
“I’m not gone yet.” He reached out, landing a soft punch against her arm. “I’m gonna go get ready to open. Come have a beer with me before you leave.” He capped off his goodbye with a wink before turning toward the door. It closed with a thunk that echoed through the quiet, empty brewhouse.
Sammie was glad she was alone with her thoughts. Luz had been scheduled off for a family thing, and Carson had called in with food poisoning, leaving Sammie with no help for the day. She’d resigned herself to handling one of her most dreaded tasks alone—cleaning kegs.
There were always,alwaysmore kegs to clean. It was monotonous, tedious, but a necessary evil regardless. Worst of all, cleaning kegs meant Sammie had plenty of time tothink, something she’d done far too much of over the last twenty-four hours.
She mulled over her conversation with Eli as she sprayed out the keg she’d been scrubbing. Two people were laid off from the front-of-house staff. That meant the remaining bartenderswould be spread thin. Sammie wouldn’t be surprised if her team was asked to help cover shifts. She’d done it plenty of the time in the past. Her brother was even set up on payroll, having sweet talked the front end manager into keeping him on for emergency situations. Although, with the layoffs, Sammie would need to let him know that he probably wouldn’t be getting anymore calls to fill in.
Her hands were starting to ache, but there were seven more kegs to clean. Seven. So few, but after the dozens she’d already finished, they felt like a mountain she’d never see the other side of.
Unease had been coursing through her veins all day, an ever-flowing circuit of tension. The layoffs were just the newest worry to mull over.
She’d stayed at her brother’s the night before, Kai kicking her out of their bed eventually. Sammie had ended up in the guest bedroom, staring into the darkness as sleep eluded her.
I think I messed up.
Atticus had seen her off that morning with another knowing head pat. He hadn’t explicitly said that he knew what exactly it was that she’d messed up. He hadn’t needed to. After twenty-six years together, Sammie would be surprised if there was any secret she could keep from him. Atticus knew what Sammie didn’t want to even admit to herself.
She’d fallen in love with Kieran. And now she had to find a way to save herself.
Because that was the only option, right? Sammie scrubbed the metal harder, far harder than necessary. She was being ridiculous. She’d known what she was getting into with Kieran from the very start. A business agreement, nothing more. She couldn’t help but wonder if Kieran had known this would happen, if wariness of the feelings she’d never been able to tampout had contributed to his hesitance that night in the diner, when she’d first asked to be a part of his videos.
Six kegs left. Only six.
Sammie hauled the clean keg into the lineup of the others she’d finished, grabbing another one to start the whole process over again. Therewasa sort of peace in the brewery, on days like this. No loud machines going, no chit chat between her assistants. Just Sammie and her thoughts. The taproom wouldn’t open for another half hour. The entire building was quiet, a breath held before a deep sigh.
There had been plenty of time to think, yet Sammie hadn’t found a single solution that appealed to her.
She didn’twantto quit making content with Kieran. Not just because of the wholeoops, I fell in lovething, but because she enjoyed what they were doing together. What they were building. They were good at it;shewas good at it. For the first time in her working life, Sammie felt as though she could be happy with a job.
Did it break her heart a little that the job she’d trained for, the job she’d started out loving so fiercely, had been reduced to nothing more than a means to an end? Sure. Of course it hurt. She loved making beer. And even if she found a way to keep making money with Kieran, Sammie didn’t think she’d ever be able to give up brewing completely.
Daydreams. Senseless daydreams. Because the bitter truth was that she knew she would need to stop working with Kieran. She wasn’t that same naive kid she’d been before, crying in the rain after the boy she loved broke her untested heart. Part of maturing was recognizing when it was time to save yourself.
The only way Sammie could see to save herself was to end things. She couldn’t keep going, couldn’t let herself fall further into this trap.
Five more kegs left.
It was all so convoluted, every one of her problems so tangled together that Sammie could hardly see the separate threads. The house, with all of its costly, mounting repairs. The job, with its newborn uncertainty.
And Kieran. With his kelly green eyes and sweet dimples. With his romance novels and apology soup. With his hands that held her steady, and his heart that had never failed to win her over.
Tears pricked at Sammie’s eyes as she sprayed out another keg, but she wouldn’t let herself cry. Not when she’d known this might happen. From the beginning, she’d never once shied away from the idea that she might not be able to handle having Kieran while not really having him at all. She’d known the risks, and she’d pushed forward anyway.
Four more kegs.
Sammie was just grabbing the next one when there was a knock at the brewery’s back door. She glanced at her watch. Twenty minutes before open. It was probably just an eager customer who’d come to the wrong entrance. Sammie sighed, dropping the keg back to the floor with a resounding clang.
Her pre-rehearsed speech telling the intruder to come back after they’d opened died on her lips as she swung the door wide.
Kieran stood before her, hair tied half back, sporting a black t-shirt and maroon gym shorts.
“I was driving by after practice.” He pushed a few stray curls back from his face, shrugging as he gave her a sheepish grin. “Thought I’d stop by and say hi, see how your brother is doing.”
Hope flared in Sammie’s gut, a hope that she’d been trying to squash for days. Hope that had sparked on their drive back to the city, when they’d played twenty questions. Hope that had burned softly when he’d danced with her under string lights. Hope that had become a roaring flame as he’d stood in her brother’s doorway and told her he was glad she was there.
