Page 52 of The Wild Card
“Someone’s got to run this place,” she says. Her voice holds a teasing note, but I know it’s true. James has told me as much, but he doesn’t need to.
Before coming to work for my brother, Winnie designed and then sold Neighborly, a social media forum app now used in hundreds if not thousands of cities across the country. The only one Winnie retained ownership of is the one here in Sheet Cake, and I’ve personally witnessed the great delight she takes in moderating what is essentially a place for people to gossip about the goings-on here.
Winnie is smarter than any of us, and though running a brewery is in a totally different wheelhouse than coding or designing an app, this place wouldn’t be operational without her. James originally hired her to help with the website before he opened. Now, she’s not only his fiancée but his business partner.
I’m not jealous, exactly. But envious? Absolutely. I can often ignore it, but the sense of missing out on having someone in my life sticks with me like a pinched nerve.
My thoughts shift to Molly, and I command them to shift somewhere else.
I haven’t heard from Molly since just after the breakfast Thayden interrupted with his big, stupid mouth and big, stupid ideas. Chase and Harper had been waiting at Tank’s place for her, and as far as I know, all three of them went back to Austin.
Did I think she might let me know? Yes.
But I’m not shocked that Molly tucked tail and ran. She said she didn’t think we should keep up the ruse—which hit me as hard as a real breakup. And that wasbeforeThayden gave her more reason to distance herself from me. I’m such a catch—the guy with a vindictive ex stirring the pot.
Molly is not going to be my Winnie. Not in a fake way and probably not in a real one.
“I could’ve used this kind of help at my gym,” I tell Winnie now without thinking.
Instantly, her smile drops. Did she note the way I used past tense when talking about my gym? If she didn’t catch it, there’s no way she didn’t hear the dejection in my voice. Winnie misses nothing.
“Is everything okay, Collin?” she asks, her sharp blue eyes searching my face. Assessing. And probably seeing more than I want her to.
“It will be.” I give her shoulder a quick squeeze before I start walking again, right past the bar and toward the back. “Thanks, Win.”
I find my older brother in what I think of as the brewing room. Floor-to-ceiling metal cylinders take up most of the space along with other machinery and equipment. Despite James’s attempt to tell me what all this equipment is called and what it does, the information bounced right off my brain and back out again.
Brewy things—that’s the official term I’ll go with for all this stuff.
James is messing with some kind of pipe, a rag tucked into the back pocket of his worn jeans and a backwards baseball cap on his head. When he stands and turns to me, he uses the rag to wipe his brow.
“Hey, brother,” I say.
James grunts—his version of hello.
“Thought I’d stop by and see what you’re up to.”
His gaze is suspicious, making me wonder when the last time I stopped by for this kind of visit was. Probably a long while ago, since I’ve been avoiding my family ever since the Liza situation blew up in my face.
“You need money?” James asks.
“No!”
“Help burying a body? Because I already told you that’s beyond the scope of our fraternal bond.”
Maybe Pat and I are not the only ones in the Graham family with an impressive vocabulary.
“Can’t I just drop in for an impromptu visit?”
“No. Is this about whatever you’re trying to pull with Chase’s sister?”
“Her name is Molly. And … no?”
I wait for James to pounce, but he doesn’t.
Instead, he walks out of the room, apparently finished with whatever brewy stuff he’s been doing in here. I follow him down the cramped hallway, expecting him to duck into his office, but he bypasses it for the exit.
“You make a terrible white rabbit,” I tell him as I step outside right behind him.
