Page 48 of Kiss and Tell
I never heard Connor return.
Fifteen
The next morningI woke up early, as I usually did. Connor wasn’t in the common room area when I emerged from my bedroom freshly showered and dressed. I hadn’t expected him to be. He’d said we could get an early start but I knew that, to Connor, that probably meant around noon or so.
I busied myself with answering emails and other little bits of busy work I’d been letting slide to work on this project. The huge desk in the corner den and matching leather office chair dwarfed me when I sat down. I felt oddly young and small, like a little girl playing in her father’s study. It didn’t help my mood any; yet one more reminder of how young I was.
The sour expression must have still been on my face when Connor finally woke up and came out of his bedroom.
“Is something wrong?” he asked before even saying good morning.
“No.” I swiveled around in the chair to face him. “Why?”
“You look pissed off.” Concerned lined his face as his eyes flicked to my laptop. “Is that asshole bothering you? Did he send you some kind of shitty email?”
“Nothing like that,” I told him.
However stiff Connor had been the previous night, none of it showed on his face this morning. Whether it was the hours long workout or the good night’s sleep, he seemed as at ease as I’d ever seen him.
“Are you ready to head out?” I asked Connor, pointedly looking at the clock on the wall.
“I’m sorry, I know I said we could go early,” he said.
“I was able to get some extra work done while you slept.”
“Always working.” He quirked a smile. “I guess I understand why now. You need this to be a success.”
“You also want this bar thing to be a success,” I said. “It’s not just for me. You want to prove you can—”
I stopped, not wanting to repeat what Jessie had told me verbatim. Maybe Connor wouldn’t think too highly of the way she’d revealed details of his personal life.
Connor raised an eyebrow.
“Seems like you were about to dive into my psyche,” he said. “What is it you think I want to prove?” His tone was curious, not accusatory.
I clasped my hands together and placed them on my lap, wondering whether or not to say it.
“You want to prove you can do something outside of music,” I said.
Connor paused, staring me down. I held fast, not looking away, not wavering.
“You’re right,” he finally said. “I do.”
I let out a small breath, relieved he wasn’t upset with me for assuming something so personal about him.
“If we’re both so dedicated to making this bar thing work, then we better get going,” Connor said.
I packed up my bag and followed Connor out of the hotel. Luckily he’d booked rooms at a place close to the brewery, only a few minutes walk away. I phoned ahead to let them know we were coming.
When we arrived at the large brick building and knocked, the door opened and a pretty blond woman greeted us.
“Welcome to Rustic Mills,” she said. “You must be…”
She trailed off as her eyes wandered from me to Connor. Her jaw dropped an inch.
“Hello,” she breathed as she held a hand out for him to take. “I’m Justine. I’ll be giving you the tour.”
Her eyes were wide as he took her hand, as if she were taken aback at the sight of him, at his very touch. I looked at Connor, wondering if he had a coffee mustache on his upper lip or something else to draw her attention.
