Page 23 of Talk About… Rivalry

He shifted the box and laughed, slightly shaking his head.

“Definitely not just a bar. It’s going to be a lounge. We’re going to offer jazz music. It’s going to be Art Deco style—definitely not the same as your bar.”

When he said it like that, it sounded even more fucking pretentious.

“This is a small town, friend. Do you really think it needs two bars?”

The omega just watched us, eyes bouncing back and forth. He’d lost some of his smile, and now he looked a bit uneasy. I couldn’t blame him; an angry alpha arguing didn’t always end well.

“Name one small town, friend,” he said, putting emphasis on the word, “that doesn’t have more than one bar. Hell, most have a bar on every corner.”

“Not around here they don’t,” I argued, still staring him down. “We’ve been running the bar for years.”

“So I’ve heard. I’ll have to check it out sometime. But again, we will not have the same crowds coming to our places. We are not competition.”

“Bullshit,” I spit out. “If you’re opening a bar… if you’re selling alcohol in there, then you are a direct rival.”

“Shame you feel that way,” he said with a shrug. His lack of care was only fueling my anger. “There’s no crime in giving people options.”

“We’ll see,” I said, storming off before I could say anything else. The last thing I needed on top of this was cold fucking coffee anyway.

By the time I shoved open the front door of Whitaker Brews, my mood had gone from bad to worse. Just when Whitaker Brews was taking off, now that we had enough of a crowd to bring in actual profit, this shit happens.

Rockwood Valley was in dire need of more businesses, more options to bring in tourists, but this wasn’t fucking it.

I heard a little squeak, looking up from where I’d been slamming things around to see my sister at one of the tables nearby.

Leave it to her to be working when she was weeks away from giving birth. The doctors were already amazed that she managed to hold on this long.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded. She raised an eyebrow at my harsh tone. I stretched my shoulders out, trying to ease some of the tension before I snapped at her again. She didn't need that.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

“I’m just trying to wrap things up before my leave. Who pissed in your coffee this morning?” she asked, shifting in her seat as she studied me, her hands massaging her huge belly.

Not that I’d ever call it huge to her face, but I swear it was bigger than she was at this point.

“Do you know there’s a fucking bar opening up in town?”

Her eyes widened, and she looked stunned by the news.

“No, what are you talking about?”

“Someone bought the old library. The old ladies at the diner were talking about it.”

She sniffed the air, eyes landing on the bag in my hand. “What do you have there?” Clearly, the babies decided they were hungry.

I didn’t even hesitate to hand it over. I wasn’t that hungry now anyway. She did a little happy dance in her chair and dug into the bag, groaning as the smell of eggs and bacon hit her. She took a huge bite and raised an eyebrow, telling me to continue without words since her mouth was full of my breakfast.

“Yeah, there’s this new guy in town. I ran into him on the way here. I even told him that we had a bar, and he was insisting that we weren’t rivals, that his was alounge.”

I put emphasis on the word, rolling my eyes at how ridiculous it sounded. This wasn’t exactly the city where they needed a club, a bar, and a lounge to accommodate everyone. This was a small fucking town, we were the only bar here for so many years, and I wasn’t about to lose business when we just picked it up.

“Maybe he’s right.” With a little shrug, she dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a napkin as if she was a dainty omega.

I sat down across from her and took a swig of my now lukewarm coffee.

“You don’t think a new bar in town is going to draw all this business you created away?” Honestly, she should be more pissed off than I was. She was the one who got us here in the first place.

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