Page 20 of Keeping Guard
“Why can’t he stay here?”
“Because during the time you spend training him, you’re his handler.”
“Do the other dogs go home with their trainer?”
“Some do, some don’t, but that’s not important to you. You and Lucky are a team. When you’re working with him, you need to be focused, so put all the shit going on in your head aside. I know that won’t be easy, but learn to do it. If you think that’s impossible, remember this. We’re SEALs. Discipline is our middle name.”
“What if I can’t?” The shit in his head was always there, like it or not. Although, his dark thoughts had left him alone when he was with Peyton.
“You can, and you will. That reminds me. You have an appointment with a therapist Friday morning. You can explain then why you took off this morning.”
It was only by calling on all that discipline Jack spoke of that Noah didn’t walk away again.
Chapter Eight
“Does your father know you’re asking me for a job?” Kenneth said.
“I haven’t specifically mentioned applying to you, but my father is aware of my reasons.” She wished she had it in her to lie. “You’re aware of my reputation and qualifications, Kenneth. I’d be an asset to your brewery.”
“So, that’s a no? I’m sorry, Peyton. As much as I’d like to offer you a job, no can do. I don’t have any desire to deal with Gerald when he finds out you’re working for me. Sorry.”
“Well, thanks anyway.” Not.
That was what she got for having Sutton as a last name. The microbrewers all knew each other, and Gerald Sutton had been a fixture in the industry in Asheville for close to thirty years. Like Kenneth, they all knew who she was.
There were more breweries on her list to try, but she’d listed them in the order of the ones she’d most like to work for. After walking out of Mountain Top Brewery, she took a pen from her purse and crossed out number seven on her list.
As much as she didn’t want to leave Asheville—it would break her heart to have to leave the city she loved so much—when she got home, she’d research other towns well-known for their microbreweries. Places where the Sutton name did not put fear in the eyes of the cowards she’d talked to so far.
Okay, not that she blamed them. If she owned a brewery and Peyton Sutton came calling, asking for a job, she’d say a hard no, just like all the ones she’d visited so far. Because...Gerald Sutton.
So, where did that leave her? Continue down the list or wave a white flag? She’d visited the best ones, the ones she’d hoped might want a master beer brewer working for them enough to not be afraid of the repercussions. Because every damn one of them knew she could brew beer with the best of them.
Could she work for any of the breweries farther down on her list? She could put them on the map, make their good beer amazing. She just knew it. Or, maybe it was time to break away from her father. Go someplace where she could make a name for herself without his influence. What to do?
If she left Asheville, she’d never see Noah again. Not that she expected to, but there was always a chance it could happen. His mouth on hers as he kissed her popped into her mind. She wanted to kiss him again, and then some more. What if he was the only man in the world who could make her tingle? If so, that was just sad, since she would never see him again.
Thinking about a hot SEAL and his tingly kisses wasn’t going to solve her job problem, though. She scanned the rest of the names on her list. No more today. She just wasn’t up to it.
On the way back to her loft, she stopped at her favorite Vietnamese restaurant and got an order of pho and spring rolls to go, along with a bowl of beef and vegetable noodles. If she did end up moving, it had to be somewhere that she could live downtown with easy access to the restaurants and shops.
But she didn’t want to move.
“Hey, Joseph,” she said at seeing the man in his usual spot on the sidewalk.
“There she is.” A smile appeared on his weathered face. “How’s Miss Peyton today?” he said, picking up his beat-up guitar.
“Great.” That was always her answer, and usually, she was. The disabled vet had enough problems without hearing about hers. “What are you going to play for me today?”
“See if you can guess what this one is.”
It was a game they played, and because after brewing beer, music was her jam, she usually guessed right. For that reason, he delighted in trying to stump her. He never sang, so she had to come up with the song title from just his playing the guitar.
When he finished, she grinned. “That was ‘Killing Me Softly With His Song.’ One of my favorites.”
“I thought for sure I had you with that one. You’re too young to remember that song.”
“No way. Roberta Flack is awesome.” She took the noodle bowl out of the to-go bag and gave it to him. Then, like she always did, she dropped a five-dollar bill in his cup.
