“That wasn’t my fault.”
Eric raised an eyebrow. “Is there someone else to blame for the fact that you slept with her?”
“That’s not the—”
“Is there someone else to blame for you leaving her alone in front so she could unlock the door? How about the fact that she got the alarm code because you were distracted by her tits. Who should I blame for that?”
Jamie slammed the glass down on the counter. “I’ve already apologized for that.”
“A lot of good it does.”
“Right.” Jamie picked up the glass and finished the beer before setting it carefully back down on the metal table. “Right.”
“I’ll cover the bar,” Eric said, his voice low and rough.
“No,” Jamie answered. “You don’t get to tell me that. I’m covering this shift and I’ll work it whether you like it or not.”
Eric paced away and then back. “What was she doing here? Did you call her?”
“No, I didn’t call her,” Jamie said dully. “She wanted me to tell Luke that she hadn’t been playing me that night. I guess he’s got her running scared.”
They’d never really talked about that night, but Jamie could see all the disgust in his brother’s face now. That was fine. Jamie was pretty damn disgusted himself. “I’m going to get back to work,” he muttered. He didn’t want to hear one more word about it. If he could take it back, he would, but there was never a chance to take back mistakes, no matter how much you regretted them.
But as he pushed open the doors, Eric’s soft voice stopped him.
“Why can’t you ever do the right thing?” his brother murmured.
Jamie looked at his own hand spread against the wooden door. He remembered how large his father’s hands had seemed to him when he was a child. Now he had the same hands: large and wide and touching this same door in the same building where his father had worked. The worst kind of irony. He was nothing like his father. Nothing at all.
He pushed through the door without giving an answer. There wasn’t one.
S
HE OPENED HER APARTMENT DOOR
so quickly that her hair whooshed forward. “Jamie! What happened to you?”
Hands in his pockets, Jamie grimaced. “Oh, nothing.” One hand rose to touch a scratch on his cheek. “Just banged into something when I was tapping a keg.”
“No, I meant, where were you today?”
“Sorry. I got called in to the brewery.”
Though she’d been rushing around for days now, time slowed for a moment. Jamie filled her doorway, his shoulders wide, even when they curved down in weariness. His forearms were sculpted muscle. His mouth a wry quirk as he waited for her to say more.
God, she’d missed him, but she’d been too busy to realize it until this moment.
His gaze fell to his feet just as a breeze shook the night behind him. As his wild hair ruffled in the wind, he looked up, past his dark lashes, and the light from the entry caught the green beauty of his eyes.
“Come in,” she urged, but before he could get past the threshold, she put her arms around him. “It feels like it’s been weeks.”
“You were too busy for me.”
His arms came around her and she tried not to recognize how good it felt, even as she closed her eyes and breathed in his scent. “I’m sorry,” she said. Had he missed her? She flinched away from the foolish thought and let him go.
“But,” she said, “all my time was spent on you.”
“Odd. I didn’t even notice you around.”
She smiled and kissed his cheek just to have another chance to touch him. “Your plans for the brewery, silly. I’ve been working on them day and night, and I wanted to show them to you right after class. Oh, I’ve been so excited, Jamie. I didn’t realize until I started just how much work you’d already done. All those napkins add up.”
He offered a brief smile at her joke, but nothing more.
“You’re not honestly angry, are you?”
Jamie sighed. “No, of course not. I’m just tired.”
“You’re too tired to look, then?” She tried not to sound crushingly disappointed.
“Tonight?” He cringed a little, so she kept her expression neutral as she nodded. “Sure,” he finally said. “But is there something I can steal from your fridge for dinner first?”
“Of course.” She started to turn away, but changed her mind. “Hey, are you okay?”
“Yeah. It’s nothing. Just another argument with my brother.”
“I’m sorry.”
He managed a more sincere smile this time. “I’m fine. Just hungry and tired.”
“I can make you a salad and a chicken sandwich.”
“How about if you just put the lettuce on the sandwich and we call it good?”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “You’re such a boy.”
“I’m glad you noticed.”
He seemed easier then. Lighter. Olivia found herself smiling as she made him a sandwich with extra lettuce and sat down at her small table to watch him eat.
“You don’t have to look at the plans tonight. Let’s just go to bed. I mean…if you were planning on staying.”
“No,” he said and her heart shook. “I mean, yes, I was hoping to stay. But no, I’m not so tired that you need to tuck me in. Not right away.”
Thank God. Now that she’d finally come up for air, she wanted him close. Wanted his hands on her. If he was too tired, she didn’t know how she’d survive it.
Maybe she was the one who wanted to head straight to bed.
“All right,” Jamie said, dusting off his hands. The sandwich seemed to have disappeared in three bites. “Let’s see your plans.”
Thoughts of going to bed burned off in a flash of excitement, and Olivia had to fight the urge to clap her hands in giddy anticipation. “Okay,” she said. “Come on. I set up a chair for you in my office.”
“Yeah? Can I start calling you Ms. Bishop again?”
She rushed ahead to arrange the chairs and tidy up the desk before he walked in. Then she sat down and put both her hands flat on the folder as she waited for him to get settled.
Her blood felt like it was shivering in her veins.
“Um, are you ready?” he asked after a few moments.
She took a deep breath and turned on the monitor. “We’ll start with something exciting first. I worked with the photos you sent me. I’m no designer, but…” Olivia clicked open the first photo, which showed the front of the brewery as it was now, a white sidewalk laid along the base of a plain brick wall. “This is what the front looks like now. And this is what I was thinking for an outdoor eating space….” She pulled the next picture up, her eyes darting over all the details. The long wooden deck, the dark green table umbrellas, complete with Donovan Brothers logos, the casual tables and chairs that would allow Boulderites to relax with a beer in their favorite place: the outdoors.
“Outdoor space?” Jamie murmured.
“I know we didn’t talk about that, but I thought it would be a great way to add more eating area during your busiest months. Not only does it give you room for six more tables, but it’s like a living advertisement for the brewery.”
“It’s really nice,” he said, nodding.
“Okay, let’s go inside.” She clicked to the photo of the interior. “Per your request, I didn’t want to change much here, but…” She opened the mock-up picture of the front room. “I think square tables will let you add a few more seats, not to mention that it will offer the option of pushing tables together to make space for larger parties. But we can use the same chairs you have now, which will save money.”
“Mmm. Good.”
She dared a sideways look at him, trying to read his face, but for once, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “Here’s the menu. It’s only a draft, of course. And I had to guess at the beer pairings, but…” She loved this menu. It had been so much fun. Who wouldn’t have fun developing a pizza menu?
She’d used Jamie’s ideas, and created some pies of her own. As he’d suggested, she’d added some salads, plus the option of a French onion soup. The soup could simmer on the stove all day, then the chef could simply add bread and cheese and run it through the pizza oven to toast it up.
After a few moments of grinning at her own creation, she realized Jamie hadn’t said anything yet. She cleared her throat. “The menu is simple and small, so you can leave it right at the table with your beer menus. Or you could incorporate the two. Either way, your customers can sit where they like. You won’t need a hostess.”
“Good. That’s great. I really like it.”
Did he? She could hardly tell. Olivia’s heart sank as she opened the next picture. “The kitchen,” she said simply.
He grunted in response.
Now her heart had sunk low enough to ache. “Is there something wrong? Is it not what you wanted?”
“No. No, it’s exactly what I wanted. I’m only tired. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said, but she couldn’t keep the confusion from her voice.
“I’m sorry,” Jamie repeated. He did sound sorry, but was it only regret that he couldn’t compliment her plans?
She slumped in her seat, staring at the layout of the new kitchen. “I chose a midrange model pizza oven,” she said dully. “I think it will serve your needs.”
“Maybe we should go to bed,” he interrupted. “I’m insulting your hard work, and I don’t want to do that. I never want to do that. It’s just…”
“What?”
He turned to meet her gaze, and Olivia finally found the emotion she’d been searching for in him. But it wasn’t the right one. It was…
despair.
“Jamie? What’s wrong?”
He stared at her, lips parted as if he’d speak, but in the end, he only shook his head and looked away. “I’m tired. And the fight…”
“Let’s go to bed, then. The rest will wait until morning. It’s all budgets and schedules and boring numbers.”
There was something more. Something he wasn’t telling her, but she couldn’t be surprised by that. She wasn’t his girlfriend. She wasn’t even his friend.
So she took him to bed and tucked him in. The sex was slow and soft and perfect, and Olivia told herself that she was satisfied.
But the ache stayed lodged in her chest, and she didn’t sleep for a long time.
T
HE ROOM WAS DARK
and Olivia was warm against him, but Jamie couldn’t find comfort. His mind kept turning. It was only 5:00 a.m., but he was wide awake and staring into the dark.
He tried to fall asleep for another thirty minutes, but his eyes kept opening, his pulse too fast to let him rest. In the end, he slipped from the warmth of Olivia’s arms and tugged on his shorts and T-shirt.
Feeling like an intruder, he wandered through Olivia’s apartment, too restless to settle in one place. When he idly opened her fridge, he saw a six-pack of Donovan Brothers Hefeweizen and managed a smile. Had she bought that for him, or for herself?
Though he was tempted, he bypassed the beer and got a glass of water instead, then headed for Olivia’s office. Her computer still glowed with welcome, and when he nudged the mouse, her monitor blazed back to life.
Earlier, he’d been too tired to feel anything when she’d shown him the plans, but now his heart lurched at the sight of the picture. He clicked back through, noticing details he hadn’t seen the first time, and he felt…grief.
He wanted this. He still wanted it. But Eric would fight him. Jamie might be able to convince him—actually, he was certain he could. But every step of the implementation would be a test. Every misstep an opportunity for Eric to shake his head and look disgusted. Nothing would have really changed.
Jamie needed a clean start. Maybe he didn’t deserve it, but he needed it.
He opened the manila folder on the desk and looked over the numbers Olivia had assembled in a remarkably short amount of time. Pages of numbers that meant something different now. If he were really going to branch out on his own, it would be a very expensive endeavor. He wasn’t sure he had the skills to pull it off.
He dropped his head to his hands and closed his eyes.
“You really don’t like it, do you?”
His shoulders stiffened at the sound of Olivia’s voice. He shook his head.
“I don’t know what I did wrong. I thought it was what you wanted.”
“It’s not that,” he whispered.
“Well, what could it be? You look like…like I’ve crushed all your dreams or kicked your puppy or…”
“I’m not going to be doing the expansion,” he said, pushing his fingers against his skull.
“What?” she breathed. “Why?”
“I told my brother about my idea. He laughed it off. Told me I was ridiculous.”
“Jamie…” She came closer, her footsteps whispering over the carpet. “I thought you were going to wait. Present it to him with the portfolio. I—”
“It wouldn’t have mattered.”
“You don’t know that!” Her hand spread over his back as she knelt beside him. “You have to try again.”
“It’s too late for that, Olivia. It was already too late, and I didn’t realize it. My brother doesn’t trust me.”
“Why?” she cried, her fingers digging into his back.
Jamie sighed and lifted his head. “Because I’ve never done anything to earn his trust. My misspent youth lasted a little too long.”
“Doing
what?
”
He shook his head. He couldn’t explain it. There were so many little things. Classes skipped. Curfews broken. Tickets for underage drinking. And once he’d taken his place at the brewery, he hadn’t cared about a damn thing except having fun. Oh, he’d done his job, but no more. Those first few years, Eric had tried to teach him things, tried to turn over some responsibilities. Jamie had refused them.
“Things add up,” he said, hoping it would make sense to her. “You said you don’t get along with your mother.”
“I don’t.”
“But there’s no one thing you can point to, is there? With family, it’s a thousand moments. A million. And there’s no undoing a million small mistakes. It’s impossible.”
“So…what? You’re just going to give up? You can’t do that!”
Jamie met her gaze. “Why?” he asked, honestly wanting an answer.
Olivia’s eyes fell. She pushed up to her feet and paced away from him, her arms crossed as if she were cold. “I admit that when I met you, I thought you were just… I don’t know. Just a bartender. No plans. No goals. And I thought that was what you wanted.”
He tried not to feel insulted. It was the image he’d constructed, after all. Olivia had seen what he’d wanted her to see.
“But that’s not all you are, Jamie, and you have to let your brother see that. You can’t just go back to wiping tables and drawing beers. You won’t be happy.”
He hadn’t realized it, but that was exactly the answer he’d wanted to hear. “You’re right. I can’t.”
Olivia’s brown eyes lit up. She took a deep breath and smiled. “So you’ll try again?”
“Not with Eric. I’ve already decided to branch out.”
“What?”
He actually smiled at the shock on her face. “I think I’d like to open my own place.”
She blinked, her mouth still round as a cherry.
“I know this will mean something very different in terms of planning—”
“Different,” Olivia gasped. “It’ll be… Jamie, this will be much, much harder. You’ll have to raise funds. There’ll be long-term commitments in leasing space and equipment. You can’t… You…”
“I understand.”
“But, Jamie! Listen to me. You’ll be starting from scratch. Everything that Eric and Tessa do—all the stuff that’s eye-blurringly boring—you’ll have to do that on your own.”
“Maybe not,” he said, the words taking all his breath with them as they left his mouth.
“With your background and name, I’m sure you can find investors, but it’s such a big risk. And every single investor will want to have his finger in the pot. Believe me, I know.”
“That’s not what I meant, Olivia.” His heart beat too fast, and every second that passed only increased the speed of his pulse.
She shook her head and her hair fell over her eyes until she shoved it back. “I don’t understand.”
“I thought…you could help me.”
“Well, I will! Of course, I will.”
She didn’t understand what he was trying to say, and Jamie felt a little panicky. “Just…” He stood and swung her around to sit in his chair. “Sit down for a second and listen to me.”