Page 4 of Shifting Sands

My grandfather doesn’t understand this perspective; he thrives on business and success. Even at his age, a calm, quiet life doesn’t seem to appeal to him, and the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. My father is quite similar; he’s spent his life trying to keep up with my grandfather, attempting to fill every footprint left by Brewster Sr. in the sand.

As a result, we barely saw him when we were growing up.

I don’t want to be that husband and father—the one who is a ghost in his own house. My mother never seemed to mind—or if she did, she hid it well—but my sister and I felt it; his absence was a living, breathing part of our childhood.

That’s not something I have to face anytime soon. My lifestyle hasn’t really been conducive to maintaining any romantic relationship. I don’t have time to date; I’m always at a track, on a jet, or in a hotel room, trying to catch a few winks before heading to the next destination.

Don’t get me wrong; I have a group of beautiful women who are more than willing to spend an evening on my arm at an event and a night in my bed. But that’s where it ends. I haven’t had the focus to build a deeper connection. It’s not for lack of trying on their part, but I’m not interested in being in a relationship of convenience. If I ever take that step, I want what my friends have—genuine love, not just another business transaction.

There’s no urgency at the moment, and right now, I need to focus on deciding whether to pursue the next steps in making Whiskey Joe’s a national franchise or to keep it as my personal retreat at home. It’s a big decision to consider, but for now, I’m just happy to roll up my sleeves and pitch in for a few months.

I have a great, loyal, and trusted staff that keeps the bar running smoothly while I’m occupied with race season, but nothing beats coming home and getting involved in the day-to-day operations.

The year’s final race took place last weekend, which means I now have three glorious months to do just that. I’ll be spending time at Whiskey Joe’s, reconnecting with family and friends, and soaking up the tranquility of the island.

It’s exactly what I need to get my head together and decide what my future will look like.

Music pulls me from my thoughts, and I fish my phone from my pocket and look at the display.Audrey. I tap the green button on the screen.

“Good morning. How’s my favorite general manager doing today?”

“She’s freaking out!”

The screeching reply causes me to pull the phone from my ear and transfer the call to speaker.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Leena fell last night.”

“Fell? Is she okay?”

“No! I mean, yes. Apparently, a pipe burst at her house last night. When she returned home from the bar, she slipped in the water and took a hard fall. The good news is, Dennis was on patrol nearby. The bad news is, she now has a broken ankle and a flooded kitchen.”

Audrey is my right-hand woman at Whiskey Joe’s and one of the main reasons for its success. The woman is a godsend. She runs the place like a well-oiled machine. Leena is one of our full-time bartenders, and her husband, Dennis, is a local police officer on the island.

“Okay. I’ll be sure to stop by and visit her and see if there’s anything I can do to help,” I say.

“That’s nice, Brew. But I’m leaving tonight, remember? What are we going to do about the bar?”

Shit.

“I can handle it,” I assure her.

“You can handle it? Mark turned in his notice last week. Cindy is back at school, and the new girl isn’t trained to handle the front bar yet. Leonard can’t do it all on his own.” She huffs out a breath and continues, “I should stay.”

What? No.

Audrey’s boyfriend and my buddy, Parker, is taking her to New Orleans for two weeks. She thinks it’s for the Bar and Restaurant Expo, but he plans to propose while they are there. He’d kick my ass if I let her back out of this trip.

“No, ma’am. I want you at that expo,” I tell her.

“I know, but honestly, you’ll need me here. I can have them send me all the material and videos from the event,” she says.

“Audrey, I can handle the bar.”

“It’ll be too much. You know the lead-up weeks to Thanksgiving can be busy, and we booked Cody Banks’s band. It’ll be a packed house next Thursday through Sunday. And your backup plan will be with me.”

Parker is the one we usually call when we need a fill-in bartender.

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