Page 28 of Some Like It Hops

My best friend since we were little punks in seventh grade, right up to the adult years when we created Fast Lane and turned my little microbrewing hobby into a full-blown empire. He’s sat with me at every meeting, worked through every big decision.

He was a pallbearer at my father’s funeral.

The elevator finally opens and I step inside, turning around slowly as the doors close behind me. I get a quick glimpse of him before they shut all the way. Marlena is bent over him, helping him up.

How long has he been fucking her?

How long have they been planning this coup?

Before the holiday party? After?

“Fuck!” I slam my hand into the wall of the elevator and instantly regret it as a fresh wave of pain knocks the breath from my lungs. Four little knuckle dents remain on the stainless steel. The elevator doors finally open up to the building’s lobby and I stride toward the elevator that will take me to the parking garage.

I need a strong drink and an even stronger woman. So, if Charlie won’t come to me, then I’ll go to her.

Chapter Fifteen

Charlie

Looking up at the freshly painted sky-blue wall, I push the loose flyways from my face, then pause, focusing on my hand. There’s blue paint smeared across my fingers, which means it’s now probably smeared across my forehead. I wipe my hands down the painter’s overalls Dad got me, then step back and spin slowly in a circle. The brewery is starting to look like it does in my mind, everything coming together without a hitch.

Getting the keys from the owner before close of escrow was a godsend. It’s probably not legal, per se, but he’s a really nice guy and the extra time to get things done means I won’t have too much of a lag between when escrow closes and Pops & Hops opens.

The soft opening adoption event is only a few weeks away, and the tables still aren’t in stock like I was promised when I placed the order, but I’m hopeful.

My dad and one of my brothers are finishing the concrete stain in the back room, and with this blue wall finished, the tasting room is just about done too. The walls are all a soft, muted gray, save for this blue one where the giant logo will go, and there are gray footprints stenciled on the floor throughout the main room. They’re faint, nearly matching the dark concrete stain we used, but they’re there if you know what you’re looking for, a trail of pawprints that lead to the oasis out back.

There’s a fine line between having something look dog-friendly, and making the brewery look like a doggie daycare.

Jo’s out on the back patio now with my middle brother, working on the finishing touches to the outside bar, and my other brother is on Day Two of trying to get the filter in the doggie pool to work.

So, I guess there have beensomehiccups—the doggie pool issues and my table order being delayed—but all in all, everything is working out, and I have to remind myself not to question that.

Alone like this, for the first time in days, I allow myself to really soak it all in. It almost doesn’t feel real; even though the warehouse looks exactly like my vision, I still can’t believe it’s mine.

The beer is in the kettles, the walls are painted, the dog is a happy asshole laying across the floor like he already owns the place, running through his dreams like a puppy, my family is here by my side, working tirelessly to bring my dream to fruition, and life is good.

I laugh softly, wiping a tear from my cheek.

Life is good.

Someone clears his throat behind me and I startle, turning quickly around.

Griffin stands near the entrance of the brewery, looking like danger and sex all rolled into one of his perfectly tailored suits. The pale gray shade makes his eyes pop more than usual and—

Nope. I’m not doing this. I’m not thinking about how his eyes pop.

“We’re closed.”

His shoulders rise and fall on a deep breath. “May I have a word with you?”

My pulse speeds. “We’re closed,” I repeat, slowly this time. I turn around and step behind the long bar, busying myself by wiping down the taps. “You found your way in, so I’m sure you can find your way out.”

“Charlie, please. I only want to explain.”

I spin around to bite his head off just as Josie enters through the patio door, her eyes widening briefly then narrowing on Griffin.

“Oh,no. Not today, Satan.” She storms toward him, and he raises his hands in surrender, backing slowly toward the entrance.

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