Page 46 of OctoBEARfest

Gwen pursed her lips. "Okay, I can work with that." She beamed at Ashley. "I'm sure it was chaos from the floor side of things but it was amazing from the performance side, so good job, and thank you, and when are you starting officially?"

"I was just helping out. I mean, sure, I'd love to." The young woman shrugged, looking embarrassed. "But, you know, it's Bill's pub."

"And I've been trying all weekend to hire you!"

"Wait, really? I mean, you've been serious?" Ashley's eyes widened. "Really?"

Bill gestured her toward a booth, and all three of them went to sit down together, Ashley still agape. "I'm absolutely serious. I talked to my parents about it yesterday. You were right, Ash. I'm doing two jobs here, and I literally haven't evenbeento the actual brewery in days. And—I haven't told most of the family yet, but," he lowered his voice, "Gwen is my mate."

Gwen, under her breath, said, "I can't believe you call true loves yourmates," and rolled her eyes, which got a glimpse of a smile out of Ashley, but the young woman was too busy gawking between Bill and Gwen to really laugh at the comment.

"Really? Oh my God. Congratulations! But—oooh!" Ashley's eyes widened again. "So that's…oh, that's why you want a general manager? Because maybe you'll be, like, not here?"

"I want a general manager because I don't like running a pub," Bill said wryly. "Not really. And you said you've got a vision for it. Well, let's sit down with Mom and Dad and talk about your vision and your salary. But also yes. Because I might not be here as much."

Ashley bounced in the booth, clapping her hands but trying to keep it small and quiet. "Oh my God. That's amazing. For you guys, I mean! Not for me! Also for me. But much less so!Congratulations! Oh my God," she added again to Gwen. "How'd you take it? The whole, you know, raar." She made claws out of her fingers and bared her teeth.

"I hid behind a bench and swore a lot," Gwen said with dignity, then quirked her eyebrows downward. "And then I was okay, actually. What's that about? How do you make the adjustment from," she also dropped her voice, "'holy shit he's a bear' to 'oh ok he's a bear' in like ninety seconds?"

The two shifters—she assumed, anyway, that Ashley was a shifter, but if she wasn't, she certainly knew about them—both blinked at her, then at each other. "It must be part of the magic," Bill said after a moment. "I never thought about it. Mates just always seem to come to terms with it pretty easily."

"Of course." Gwen shook her head and smiled. "I should have realized."

Bill, more able to stay on point, said, "Can we talk about it? You as general manager here? Not right now if you don't want to, but pretty soon?"

"I would love that." Ashley beamed. "Yeah, I'd love that, if you're sure. Ooh, I haveplans. Okay, I'm gonna go write up a business plan. Congratulations again!" She bounced out of the booth and strode off toward the office, leaving Gwen and Bill to smile after her.

"That's going to work out well for you," Gwen said at the same time Bill said, "I wonder what her plans are." They both laughed, and he added, "She's got a business degree, so I imagine her plan is going to look very official. I'm almost afraid."

"I have a degree in music composition," Gwen said, still looking after Ashley. "I could not write a business plan with it."

"No, but you could apparently write a chart-topping rock ballad with it, and I bet Ashley can't do that. I went to college for a brewing degree."

"They have those?" Gwen asked, astonished. "For real?"

"For real. You can even get a Masters degree in it, but I didn't finish the course. I was still doing the faires then and it was more fun to do that from April through October than go to school."

Gwen laughed. "A crack shows in his responsibility armor?"

"More like it hadn't finished forming yet, I think." He smiled at her.

"Oh," she said, thoughts bouncing ahead, "oh, that makes sense though. Not the responsibility armor, but Ashley's got a business degree and you went to school to learn to be a better brewmaster. Your heart's really not in the pub at all. Did you even realize that?"

Bill hesitated, then blinked. "No. Not when you put it that way, no. I thought brewmaster, pub, it all made sense. Although I didn't know I was going to end up running the pub, then. Look at you." He grinned. "Fated mate, coming along and making sense of my whole life."

"Look at you," she said back to him. "Fated mate, still can't believe you call it that but moving on, coming along and giving me the support and confidence I need to move on with my life."

"You had the confidence," he disagreed.

Gwen's eyebrows rose. "Not sure I did, but even if we leave it at support, it's a big deal, big man. I haven't talked to the band yet?—"

Bill laughed. "Yeah, I'm aware. We've been joined at the hip since the gig ended last night."

Gwen leered. "Yeah we have. In the best possible way, too.Anyway. But I did text them to see if we could have a talk this afternoon about whether we want to sign with your friend Mike's label. Is there somewhere we can hang out where we're not right in the public eye like we are here?"

"Yeah, the event room." Bill tilted his head toward a part of the pub Gwen hadn't been in. "I'll show you. You think you'll sign with him?"

"I don't know. On one hand, it's giving a third party some of our income. On the other, if he's good at his job, it could really catapult us. So we'll have to talk about it." Gwen nudged his hip with her own. "Scoot, big guy. Let's go get some cinnamon rolls to soften up the band with."

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