Cole
“Everything go okay?” my bartender Brittany asks as I step behind the bar, having entered the brewery from the back. She’s been with Ziggy’s Brewery since before our grand opening fourteen years ago. She was good friends with Millie and loves Jane like a niece. She knew I’d been summoned to the school. “You were gone awhile.”
“Peachy,” I say sarcastically. I’m not thrilled that Holly is in charge of my daughter for the next hour, but short of bringing Jane home with me, what could I do?
Do I really think Holly will punish my daughter for having me for a father? No, and I feel like scum for practically accusing her of it. But I also don’t feel good about the situation, and I can’t quite pinpoint why, which is bugging the shit out of me. We’ve been at each other’s throats since high school, but she’s always perfectly nice—though always sassy—with everyone else.
Maybe it’s just that I’ll have to keep seeing Holly, possibly up to twice a week, and we’re both professionals at driving each other crazy.
“What’s Janie up to now?” my younger brother asks from a few stools away. We look enough alike that no one would ever mistake him for anything but family, especially now that Logan’s stopped shaving for long enough to have a short beard. He’s wearing a black, long-sleeved thermal shirt and is hunched over his beer glass like he’s guarding it.
I stare at him in surprise. I hadn’t noticed Logan when I walked in, probably because I wasn’t expecting him. He’s usually at his auto mechanic shop until at least six or later. “What are you doing here?”
“What?” he asks, his hands extended at his sides. “I can’t drink for free at my brother’s brewery?”
“Sure thing, freeloader,” I say good-naturedly. “But it seems out of character for you to be here at four o’clock on a Tuesday afternoon.”
He shrugs, then picks up his glass and takes a long pull. Which means he doesn’t want to talk about it, and I’m not going to press him. God knows there’s plenty of shit in my life I don’t want to discuss.
Brittany bestows him with an impatient look, as though she doesn’t approve of something. Lord only knows what. I know she thinks Logan is a moron and a man whore, but she usually keeps the moron part to herself.
Logan lowers the glass. “So, what’s up with Janie?”
“Same old shit,” I say, even though it’s not. Brittany rolls her eyes. She knows there’s more to it and probably doesn’t approve of me downplaying it. Knowing Logan, though, he’d not only encourage my daughter to continue her shenanigans but would also give her ideas for more. “WhereisJane?” Brittany asks. “Upstairs? She usually pops in for her afternoon snack.”
I wave my hand, gesturing toward the front door. “I took her to that tea place downtown.”
Logan bursts out laughing.
I ignore him.
Brittany’s eyebrows shoot up. “You did what?”
“I wasn’t rewarding her for bad behavior,” I say defensively as I start taking inventory of the glassware, still ignoring my brother. “She’s really been wanting to go, so I figured it would soften her up so she would talk.”
“Oh, I agree with you there,” she says. “What I’m shocked at is the fact thatyouwent there. You’ve always said it’s a sham and that you don’t have a fascinator to wear while you held up your pinky finger.” She lifts her hand and sticks out her pinky, pretending to hold a teacup. “And color me impressed that you knew a British term for a fancy hat.”
Logan grins from ear to ear. “Christmas is in another couple of months, bro. Maybe Janie and I can make you one of those fascinators with her hot glue gun and some glitter. Oh! What about feathers?”
I continue to ignore him. Giving his insults attention only encourages him. “Yeah, well,” I hem and haw. “Like I said, Jane really wanted to go.”
“So where is she?” Brittany asks. “Did you take her to Tea of Fortune for her last meal before her execution?”
I pull a face, refusing to look at her or my brother while I pick up a glass and start rubbing off a water spot with a towel. “She’s at Rory’s technology outreach thingie.”
“Tech Time?” Logan asks, then finishes off his beer.
I turn to him, not bothering to hide my astonishment. “How doyouknow about Tech Time?”
He lifts his shoulders in a lazy shrug. “Daisy’s got a kid who goes to the first grade one.”
I hold his gaze as my anger starts to brew. “Daisy Morgenstern? Jesus, Logan. Are you screwing Daisy?” The flash of guilt in his eyes confirms it’s true. “What the hell are you doing, man? She’s got kids.”
“You’vegot a kid,” he retorts.
“And I don’t bring any women home. There’s a reason for that, you idiot.” I point a finger in his face. “Fuck all the women you want, but don’t be messing around with someone who has kids. They could get attached.”
A dark scowl crosses Logan’s face, and he slides off the stool. “Nice to know you have such a high opinion of me, asshole.” With that, he turns and walks out, leaving his beer half-finished.
