“It’s so weird,” Autumn announces, and now all the delight is gone from her face and she looks honestly perplexed and a little sympathetic. “You’re great at everything I can think of. You rock every task on the farm. You balance our house budget without blinking and fix most of the farm equipment all by yourself. You say books aren’t your thing, but you were minoring in literature in college. And look how easily you stepped in to play with that band last week. You didn’t even practice with them and you did great. But every task at V and V you are a total failure at.”
“Again, thanks for your insight,” I reply but I’m caught on one small tidbit of her little speech. It’s been a week since Imposter Syndrome played at the bar. And I haven’t heard from or seen Chase Ashton once.
Guess that kiss wasn’t worth repeating for him. That stings more than it should. More than it has with the other, few and far between, hook-ups I’ve had in recent years. Autumn snaps her fingers in front of my face. I swat her hand away gently. “Driving here!”
“Then stop day dreaming,” she replies. “I asked you a question and you didn’t answer.”
“What did you ask me?”
“How it felt to be playing again.”
“Good,” I murmur and steal a glance her way to find her frowning. Autumn is the opposite of me. Whereas I am the water-off-a-duck’s-back guy, Autumn spends every waking moment excited about something. Today, if I don’t give her a more insightful response, this will be the next thing she gets passionate about. “Great, actually. I’ve missed it more than I realized.”
“You could go back to school and finish that music degree,” Autumn suggests and that makes me frown, so she elaborates. “I mean not right now, but in a year or two, when everything else is more settled. When Woody is mayor and we have a permit for marijuana crops and I’ve graduated and am running the Whitlock empire.”
“Empire?” I laugh. “Mom and Dad would be in hysterics, and possibly horrified, at the idea of a Whitlock Empire.”
“Nah. Their hippie hearts would be fine with it because I’d make it so successful they could retire and Dad could just build guitars and Mom could just make jewelry all day,” Autumn lamented. “No farming for them anymore. Just crafts and music.”
Damn, I wish this imaginary picture she’s painted could happen. They deserved that. I give my head a shake. “Well, I hate to break this to you but Whitlock Empire or not, my schooling days are over. I actually don’t mind either. I like working full-time on the farm. I just don’t like having to work part-time at the bar. But I’m grateful to Harrison and Tanner for helping us out. God, Woody better win this so it’s worth it.”
“He will.” Autumn doesn’t sound as confident as I wish she did. But I also wish I didn’t need her, or anyone else, to bolster my confidence.
I pull into an empty parking spot a block away from Vino and Veritas and turn off the car. Autumn unbuckles her seatbelt. “Woody has that interview with the local news station today. He’s been practicing what he wants to say so hopefully it goes well.”
“Fingers crossed,” I say as we get out of the car. My brother would be a good mayor. This isn’t just about us getting the zoning for marijuana farming in Burlington. He cares a lot about this city, and he wants to see it do well on every front. He’s also smarter than he looks and smarter than he sounds. Woody used to have a stutter as a kid and he got over it with speech therapy, mostly. But he talks slowly and with big pauses when he’s stressed or nervous so he doesn’t stumble over his words. It can make him look a little dim, if you don’t know him. And the voters of Burlington, for the most part, don’t.
We walk together the half a block in silence, Autumn’s texting someone on her phone and giggling. “Is that Briar or Jeremy?”
“Briar,” Autumn says about one of her co-workers at the bookstore that she has become close friends with. “Telling me a story about the most recent way Jeremy embarrassed his boyfriend Aaron. But in a good way.”
“There’s a good way to be embarrassed?” I question.
“Yeah, like not the way you embarrass yourself at the bar,” Autumn retorts and her devious grin is back.
This time it makes me smile too, until I look up to see if we’ve got the light to cross the street and I find myself staring right at Lacey Baldwin’s confident, reassuring smile. “It’s official. She’s bought every advertising space in Burlington.”
Autumn’s golden eyes follow my stare and she swears under her breath when she sees the giant poster at the bus shelter across the street. “I know I read somewhere her family used to farm, but I didn’t realize until now they must have a tree farm. Money trees. How the hell does she afford all this advertising?”
I shrug because I don’t know but also, it doesn’t matter. Fact is, she can afford it and we can’t. Even after we mortgaged the farm — the only thing we have — we only have enough money for one poorly placed mural-type advertisement that the Caruso farm let us put on the side of their barn. It was located by the interstate, but half blocked by trees depending on which way you were driving. We also had a radio ad, which wasn’t the best because, like I said earlier, Woody isn’t well spoken.
“We need to work on him about the posters and the flyers for people’s mailboxes,” Autumn tells me as we cross the street. “I understand and support his concerns about the environmental impact, but the fact is, he needs more visibility.”
I nod in agreement, but I also know Woody won’t be easily swayed. Man, he needs to win this. I can’t work two jobs forever and if it does come to that, it definitely can’t be this one, I think, as we make our way down the alley to the back joint entrance. When we get inside, Autumn heads left into the bookstore and I turn right, heading down the hall. Joss, the chef who was hired to expand the menu almost a year ago, is the first person I see. He gives me a nod. “Bowen. You here to try and wreck the place again?”
“Ha ha.” I smile.
“You know I’m just taking the piss, mate.” Joss gives me a friendly smile. “I hear you were great with the band last week.”
Again,lastweek. Another reminder of how long Chase has had my phone number and not called it. I push down the bad feelings and nod. “Just wanted to prove to you all I’m not a total disaster.”
“You’ll find your grove here too,” Joss assures me as I keep walking past the kitchen and into the bar. It’s still an hour until the doors are open to customers so I expect to only see Tanner and whoever else is working tonight, but there’s more than just staff in the bar.
Chase Ashton is sitting on the last stool at the bar, swirling a glass of red wine, while Tanner leans on the bar in front of him. They’ve both got intense looks on their faces and if I didn’t know Tanner had recently eloped with the love of his life, Jax, I would have a twinge of jealousy at how they’re leaning into each other. But that would be ridiculous because Chase isn’t mine and who he leans into isn’t my business. “Earthy. With a few darker notes. Sensual.”
“I thought the same thing,” Tanner replies.
I feel a nudge on my shoulder and look down to see Murph standing beside me. He’s a fellow employee and must be the bartender tonight. I’ve only worked with him once before, but I kind of already knew him through my sister. He’s unabashedly unique, always upbeat, and seems undaunted by my fuck-ups so far. “Sounds like they could be discussing your performance, huh?”
