Page 20 of A Sip of Sherry

“Which is why I’m walking away before you realize I didn’t read the employee handbook.”

Wyatt gasped.“I knew I liked you.”

With a laugh, I turned toward the tables and scanned the space.

“There’s a seat right here for you,” Steve, the proud owner of the town’s only museum dedicated to Big Foot, waved me over to an empty chair at a high top.I nodded in his direction and plopped my ass on the stool adjacent to him.

Odette, who seemed to be everywhere, popped up from her chair and hurried over to me.She threw her arms around my neck, engulfing me in vanilla musk and chaos, squeezing me like we were long-lost relatives.“You made it!”She smacked my shoulder.“I knew you would.”She held her hand out to Steve.“I had ten bucks riding on you showing up.”Her attention moved to Steve.“Pay up.”

My brows furrowed as Steve shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out his wallet, grabbing a crisp ten-dollar bill, and slapping it in Odette’s hand.

“I’m sorry,” I said, confusion swirling around in my mind.“Why did you place a bet on whether or not I’d show?”

Steve shrugged.“Nero said you would, but since you haven’t shown up to one HOA meeting or event at Robin’s Landing, figured you’d bail here, too.”

“You bet against me based on my social track record?”I grabbed my heart.“Steve, you wound me.”

“Don’t take it too seriously,” Odette said, popping a nut in her mouth from the small bowl on the table.“We just like to keep things interesting.”

“And steal my money in the process,” Steve said.

“Hey, you shouldn’t have bet against me,” I declared

A glint of hope landed in Steve’s eyes.“Does this mean you’ll come to the next HOA meeting?”

“Don’t push it.”I laughed, enjoying this ridiculous conversation far more than I ever would have imagined.

Steve chuckled.“I figured as much.Had to ask though since it’s just five of us right now and a confused cat.”

“It’s a very committed cat, though.Brings more to the table than the rest of us,” Odette said.

“Be honest, Odette.The cat is there for the free head scratches and catnip.”

“Whose cat is it?”I asked, way too intrigued by the answer.

“Not sure,” Steve said.“She’s a pretty hefty thing, so she’s fed well.Her coat’s always shiny.I think she comes to the clubhouse for her next fix.”He shot his gaze to Odette.

“You make me sound like some sort of cat drug dealer.”

“If the shoe fits,” Steve said, and I glanced toward the bar, wondering where the hell the whiskey was.I could use a pour or three about now.

Brady disappeared to the back and returned with a cask on a stand.I had to keep myself from clapping my hands together and rubbing them in anticipation.

Brady picked up a small wooden mallet resting on the stand and looked toward the small crowd.“You all ready?”

“I was ready thirty minutes ago,” Albert, a grumpy old bastard in overalls and a Vietnam baseball cap, said.He owned the farm stand in town and loved to drive his damn tractor at the speed of a sloth crawling through molasses.

He sat at a table with other men who, if I had to guess, were all veterans.

“I guess I’ll take my time.”Brady put the mallet down.“I aged this for two years in one of the wine barrels Mr.Grasso gifted me when I told him I wanted to start this distillery.”

All the Grassos held their glasses up in honor of their grandfather.The man had not only been a staple in this town, but a staple in the wine community.

“I infused it with wildflower honey from Albert’s farm.”

Everyone turned to Albert and clapped, but he just grumbled, swatted his hand, and then crossed his arms.Though, I detected a smile tugging at the stubborn edges.

“Most of you know my life hasn’t always been easy, but because of this town and the people, I have a beautiful life now.”His eyes drifted over to Chardonnay, who winked at him.

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