Page 17 of Break My Heart
‘Copied you?’ he says, pretending to be clueless.
I huff. ‘You’re seriously trying to act like this wasyouridea? The $2 beers?’
‘You aren’t the first person to run a special,’ he says, meeting my gaze. He has nice eyes. They’re a rich chocolatey-brown color. I remember as a kid thinking his eyes looked like chocolate ice cream. ‘I’m pretty sure it’s been going on for centuries.’
‘And yet you only discounted your beers after seeing how much business I was getting from my $2 beer special.’
He leans in closer, his eyes locked on mine. ‘It’s called price matching, and it’s been done forever.’
‘It’s unoriginal and desperate.’
‘And yet it works.’ He glances at his crowded bar then looks back at me and smirks. ‘You really think I’m going to just sit by and watch you take all my customers?’
‘They’re notyourcustomers. You don’t own them. They can drink wherever they want, and they’re going to choose my place because the beer is better.’
‘Says who? You and your employees?’
I want to kill him, or punch him, or scream at him. He can say all the bad things he wants about me, but I’m not letting him insult my beer. I’ve worked my ass off making it the best it can be, spent hours perfecting it, and I am not letting Sawyer even imply it’s not good.
‘For your information,’ I say, ‘the man who was sitting here before you told me my beer was better than yours.’
‘Yeah, okay,’ he says, like he doesn’t believe me.
I narrow my eyes at him. ‘I bought into your little nice act lastnight, but now I see you’re no different than you were when we were kids.’
‘So youdoremember me.’
I pause, realizing I pretended not to know him last night. ‘It came to me later.’
‘Uh huh.’ He smirks. ‘So what exactly do you remember about me?’
‘That you were a whiny little kid who threw a tantrum when you didn’t win. And all these years later, nothing’s changed. You still can’t stand to lose to a girl. It’s really pathetic.’
‘I can’t stand to lose, period. It doesn’t matter that you’re a girl. And this time I’m not going to lose. I put my heart and soul into this place and every last dime I had. I’m not letting it fail.’
‘And I’m not letting G’s fail.’
He slowly sits back, the movement causing his cologne to drift my way. The jerk smells really good. He looks good too, wearing a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. It’s got the brewery logo on it. It looks really good on him, and professional, and has me thinking I need to get more than just t-shirts for the uniforms at G’s. Maybe I should get button-ups too, but then I’d be copying Sawyer, not that he’d know when I ordered them. I could say I got them weeks ago.
‘I guess it’s game on.’ He holds his hand out. ‘May the best man—or woman—win.’
‘Oh, I’m going to win. I have no doubts.’ I get off the barstool and search my purse for my wallet.
‘Don’t worry about the bill,’ Sawyer says. ‘It’s on me.’
‘I’d rather pay.’ I find my wallet and take out a ten, setting it on the bar. ‘Trust me, you’ll need it when everyone’s going to G’s instead of here.’
He laughs. ‘Keep dreaming. The Kanfield name alone will keep people coming back.’
‘It’s really sad you have to use your family name to stay in business instead of making beer people actually want to drink.’
I march out of there, feeling happy I got the last word in, but regretting I made that comment about his beer. It’s actually pretty good, and knowing how hard it is to make, I shouldn’t insult it. But he implied mine wasn’t good so I guess we’re even.
On the drive back to G’s, I feel like every nerve in my body is fired up. I feel jittery, like I just drank a pot of coffee. Sawyer makes me so damn angry and it’s way worse now than when we were kids. Back then, I just laughed when he’d taunt me before a competition. I was always confident I’d win, and if I didn’t, it didn’t matter. It was camp. Big deal. But now it’s my business. I have everything riding on this. If I fail, I don’t know what I’ll do or where I’ll go. Ryder would let me work for him again, but I don’t want to go back there and do what I’ve been doing for the last ten years.
I’m 30 years old. It’s time I step up and make something of myself. I want to make my grandpa proud, even if he can’t see me. I’m hoping he can. I’m hoping he’s up there in the clouds looking down and smiling when he sees what I’ve done with the place. When I told him I wanted to open my own brewery, he said ‘Go do it, kid. What are you waiting for?’
That was two years ago, and I actually did it. I opened my own brewery. Now I just have to make sure it doesn’t close down. I’m not letting Sawyer win. He may have a fancy building and downtown location and well-known name, but I’m convinced my beer is better. And as for the cider competition, if Sawyer thinks he’s winning that, he’s crazy. My hard cider is going to win, and when it does, it’ll put G’s on the map and make it a destination for tourists.
