Page 3 of Unravel Me

We spend the next two hours sipping on drinks and dancing on the dance floor. Zoe does everything she can to help me forget the day and enjoy the moment, but my mind continues to flood with anxiety over how to move forward.

We take an Uber back to Zoe’s studio apartment around midnight and I fall onto her couch to hopefully get some sleep. Zoe’s suggestion that I move back home has been on constant repeat throughout the night. That damn house really is just sitting there. I lay awake in the dark room, doing my best to work through every scenario. I have some savings that can get me through for a while, but not if I want to stay in Seattle. With the cost of rent, I would plow through it too quickly. But maybe if I moved back to Aspen Ridge temporarily and sold my parents’ house, this could set up my life and give me the boost I desperately need. As I envision what it would be like to be back in my hometown for the first time in ten years, my mind drifts to thoughts of the boy whose heart I shattered by leaving. The boy who loved me so fiercely. Who planned our life together.

And I ran. Hard and fast and never looked back.

Until now.

Chapter 2

SAWYER

“Does it look like I give a shit how you get it done? Because I don’t. Just get it fucking done.”

“Yes, Mr. Hayes,” my brother says in his signature sarcastic tone.

“Don’t be a dickhead, Dallas.”

“So, do you only cuss out the employees you’re related to or is this the way you’re going to run the distillery now? Man. I don’t remember Dad cussin’ on the job.” He looks off into the distance, pondering his question in an annoyingly patronizing way.

“Dallas,” I say, barely holding my shit together, “hire someone. I don’t care if you agree with it or not, but we are moving forwardwith hosting events here. It will benefit the company and the community. You’ve managed to toss out every single application we’ve received thus far. Do I need to task someone else to get it done?”

“You’re the boss, Sawyer. I’ll get it done. But I don’t agree with this, and I think we’re opening ourselves up to a shit show. We aren’t a vineyard, we don’t need to open house and welcome everyone and their mother in to see what we’re doing.”

“Point noted. Are we done here?”

“Yep. I’ll keep you updated. Boss.” He mock salutes me like the dickhead he is and leaves my office, shutting the door behind him.

I lean back in my chair and roll up the sleeves of my shirt. Becoming CEO of Aspen Ridge Distillery was always the plan for me. My great-grandfather started the company and it’s been passed down through four generations. When my father was ready, I knew it would be passed to me. Did I expect it to happen at twenty-nine? No. But six months ago my father suffered a series of strokes that left him with physical and cognitive challenges that made running a company difficult. So here I am, running our family’s business.

With my asshole brothers.

My phone vibrates on my desk with an incoming text. Unfortunately, my siblings and I are extremely close and none of them have boundaries when it comes to communication. We have a sibling group chat, and my phone is usually going off multiple times a day with a message from one of them.

Dallas: Better watch your backs. CEO Shithead Sawyer is on the warpath

Liam: Fucking hell. What’d you do to piss him off?

Me: You know I’m on this text thread right?

Dallas: Yup. Just don’t give a fuck.

Me: Yeah? You tell them your new nickname?

Kinsey: Ooo! I love updated nicknames. Spill it

Carter: So Dumbass Dallas is out

Me: Dickhead Dallas is in

Kinsey: Ah ha ha

Liam: Okay that’s pretty good.

Dallas: Fuck you all

Kinsey: Can’t say I disagree. Sorry big brother

Carter: Sorry man it works

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