Page 1 of Why Not Us?

Chapter 1

Nate

“What are you doing?”

I don’t stop checking the temperatures on the tank when my brother, Taylor, comes into the brewery. “My job,” I tell him.

“I just got off the phone with Derek Moritz. You still haven’t gone to Blue Vista.”

I lift a shoulder in a shrug as I mark down a note. “I’ve been busy.”

Taylor stops right next to me, forcing me to see him in my peripheral vision, even if I refuse to look at him. Am I being childish? Maybe.

He’s glaring at me, arms crossed over his broad chest. We’re of similar builds and heights, so he looks as imposing as I do when I stand like that. Though, I can take him if I need to. I am the older brother, after all.

“I can’t sign this contract without you. And I want to sign this contract. It’ll be good for business.”

“Business is fine as it is.”

Taylor rubs a hand over his eyes. “Yes, it is. It’s great, in fact. I would like for it to be better. Isn’t that the point of owning your own business? No ceiling? We take it where we want to go.”

“I’m happy with where we are.” I continue staring at my clipboard even though I’ve written all I need to, trying in vain to ignore my brother.

“Too bad. I want this contract. I’ve already been there, seen their operation. They’re good. They’re also looking to expand, open another location. Do you have any idea how much alcohol they’ll need for events?”

Finally, I turn toward him. “Beer? They’re a high-end wedding venue. Shouldn’t they be serving wine and Cristal? Champagne in crystal flutes?”

Taylor rolls his eyes. “Lots of people get married, Nate. Some of them even like beer. We live in fucking Vancouver where you can throw a rock and hit another three breweries from this location alone. Before I can sign a contract with Blue Vista, our brewmaster—that’s you, by the way—needs to tell the operations manager—me—what orders we can carry. And you’re not going to tell me the answer until you see their operation. They invited us out to one of their date nights for free. You’ve had five weeks to go, and you keep putting it off. I thought you were going to take Dani.”

“I don’t want to take my daughter out somewhere where people are drinking,” I grumble.

“So you won’t be taking her to any restaurants other than McDonald’s until she’s what, nineteen? Good luck with that.”

I knew it was a weak excuse when I gave it, but that’s all I have in answer to his questions: weak excuses. The reality is, I don’t want to go. I’m bad with people in general, and I know the kind of people who go to places like Blue Vista. They’re not my kind of people. The kind who think they’re better than me.

“You’re going,” Taylor continues. “Tonight.”

I open my mouth to protest, but he holds up his hand.

“Your Fridays with Dani are daddy-daughter-date-nights. I told Derek to reserve a spot for both of you.”

“They run too late. Her bedtime is 8:30.”

Taylor smirks. “I knew you’d try that, so as soon as I got off the phone with Derek, I called Katie.”

Sometimes I hate that Katie and I keep our lines of communication so open. It means my brother is just as comfortable talking with my daughter’s mom as I am.

“She said it would be fine for Dani to have a late night for this particular reason and it’s a special night since both her dad and uncle are going to be there.”

I blink slowly at my brother. “You went over my head?”

He has the audacity to look smug about it when he nods.

“Why are you coming?”

“How else am I going to make sure you get there?”

There’s no way I’m getting out of it. He’s giving me a look that says he’s considered all the angles. And he probably has. He’s always been sharper than me. I think I’m an averagely smart man. But Taylor is quick. He sees all the possibilities and knows when to choose one and when to stay away. He’s the reason Hops Scotch Brewing is doing so well.

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