Page 69 of Any Luck at All

I’ll check in later, he responded.See if you need some soup.

Her only response was the yacking emoji.

Sorry you’re sick, he added,and sorry about last night. I hate that we don’t see eye to eye on this.

He saw the three dots that indicated she was writing something, but the message never materialized. More proof that she wasn’t over it. Well, he’d swing by to see her later. Make sure she was okay.

He checked the time—8:00—and glanced through the rest of the messages.

Half were from a woman named Pat, who was apparently the head of the Nextdoor group, which she’d titled CONTAINING THE CAT MENACE ON FLINT STREET in all caps. She’d last texted to ask for a status update at three in the morning. Several other messages were from people who’d supposedly seen Jezebel, although one described her as a portly ginger cat and another admitted to being partially blind. Perhaps he should have thought twice about giving out his number so freely.

Hops pawed at his pants, reminding him that he needed to be taken out. Would Georgie be okay with him coming back to the loft a couple of times to do that? He couldn’t imagine she’d say no, but he was thinking about Georgie, the warm, wonderful woman who’d crept into his heart and lain in his bed, not Georgie, the businesswoman.

A sense of disquiet crept up on him—what would it be like when he saw her?—but he swallowed it down and continued with his morning routine. He arrived at the brewery at a little before nine and headed straight to the back, making his way to Beau’s old office. The place looked cleaner than he’d ever seen it, down to the beer rings on the tables, so at least they’d gotten that sorted. Hopefully Georgie had been able to book the company to take care of Beau’s house too.

He knocked on the door, his heart thumping powerfully in his chest, and heard Georgie’s crisp “Come in.”

He did, and his eyes instantly found her. Her hair had been unbound last night, loose and wild, like she herself was a moon goddess—a notion he’d shared with her while he was still inside her, making her laugh…and then gasp. “Why do you think I named it that?” she’d asked afterward. “I’m a goddess by moonlight.”

This morning her hair was pulled back into that tight style of the first day they’d met. Not a hair out of place. She was wearing an immaculate gray skirt suit that was much too fancy for Asheville, let alone for a brewery, plus a shirt buttoned up to her very chin.

As a message, it was clear, but something flashed in her eyes—like maybe she was remembering everything too—before she pointedly glanced to his left. Which was when he realized other people were present. For some reason, he’d thought they’d be alone—Georgie and River, planning what came next together, but Tom and Aunt Dottie were both seated in chairs in front of her desk, and although Georgie’s monitor was angled away from him, he heard Jack say, “Ishethere?”

It punctured a little of his positivity, but he merely lowered himself into the empty chair next to his aunt’s. She winked at him, and he couldn’t help but wonder what she knew. Or what she’d guessed.

“Hi, Jack,” he simply said. “Do you need any crystals this morning?”

Georgie’s mouth twitched—he’d be generous with himself and call it a smile—and Jack said, “Your aunt already offered. I’m starting to think you have stock in some New Age company.” Georgie eyed the screen, and Jack sighed audibly. “Let’s just move on, okay?”

“Yes, let’s,” Georgie said. What had been said between them before the start of this meeting?

“Now, to get you up to speed, River,” Georgie said. For a second, he considered apologizing, but she’d told him to come in at nine, and he’d shown up a few minutes early. “I’ve spoken with Tom and Dottie about our existing stock, and they think we can stay open for two weeks. Jack and I love your idea of doing the big reopening with new beers, and we figured it might be a good idea to take it one further. We’re going to have a closing party too.”

Something flashed in her eyes, and he realized she was enjoying this. She was good at organizing things—scary good—and he was seeing her in her element. He was grateful for it. In a weird way, he liked this side of her just as much as the unbound Georgie from last night.

“That’s smart,” he said, grinning at her. Maybe it was an overly friendly grin for an employee to give his boss, but you could box up the past all you liked, there was no erasing it. “It can be a kill-the-keg party. A celebration of Buchanan Brewery the way it was, and an invitation for customers to be part of the future. We can hold a naming contest for one of the new brews. And if we still want to go with Jack’s idea of having one cocktail-inspired beer for each season, we can take votes on that too.”

Georgie’s whole face lit up—and damn, did he feel good about being the one who’d made her smile like that.

“That’s great,” Georgie said. “And you said you already have a few more beers planned. We can go over that after this meeting.”

“I do,” he said, grinning back at her. “I’d love to walk you through it.”

Their gazes held for a moment, River feeling that invisible connection between them, binding them even as they sat apart, untouching, but Aunt Dottie cleared her throat.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said, her tone very serious. “I’d like to donate my statue of Beau to the brewery. Beaubelongshere. I’m not ready to part with him yet, but he should be at Buchanan for the grand reopening.”

Georgie’s face leached of color, as if the takeout had in fact been tainted, and the effects had only just kicked in.

“Um, that’s really generous of you,” she said, at the same time Jack said, “Are you talking about the statue with that giant crystal…?” Another look from Georgie silenced that last word, at least, but Tom shuffled a little in his seat, uncomfortable.

“You should keep the crystal, Aunt Dottie,” River said. “I think Beau would want you to have it. And you could maybe put some of his old clothes on him? Or some of the new merch once it’s redesigned?”

Georgie immediately grasped on to the idea. “Yes, that sounds great! I agree. We definitely want to celebrate the full history of the brewery.”

“With clothing,” Jack added.

“What’s your plan for the employees?” Tom asked, speaking for the first time since River had entered the room, not that he’d been given much of a chance. “Some of them can be assigned different tasks, especially since you talked about rearranging the tasting room, but redesigning the labels and merch will probably have to be done by a contractor.”

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