Any Luck at All Page 7

  “Hey,” River said, sitting up in his seat. “That was uncalled for.”

  “No,” Georgie said softly, overcome with shame. “He’s right. I never reached out, but can you imagine how awkward it was for me—and Lee? I didn’t know if you even knew we existed. What if your mother had told you that another man was your father? I didn’t want to destroy your world too.”

  “Too?” he asked with plenty of attitude.

  “Look,” Georgie said, running a hand over her forehead. “My father was far from perfect. He only cared about having a son, so I was a disappointment from the start. That’s why he named me Georgie—not Georgia or Georgina, just Georgie. I never, ever measured up for him, even if he pretended otherwise to the world. But he loved my mother. And I trusted in that. Finding out about you meant the one thing I’d believed my father and I had in common was a lie too.” As she finished the last sentence, she realized she’d said too much, and her face flamed with embarrassment. She’d never even told any of her previous boyfriends any of that, let alone a stranger. No, two strangers. She cast a glance to River, who was giving her a sympathetic look.

  Then she saw the look on Jack’s face—the gleam in his eyes—and realized what she’d said. He only cared about having a son.

  Just not this son.

  She wanted to say something to him, but she doubted he’d want sympathy from her. Not after everything. So she took a deep breath and did what she did best: focus on the task at hand. “All of that is neither here nor there. We’re here to discuss the future of Buchanan Brewery. You say you want to be a full, working partner. How soon can you be here?”

  His eyes widened slightly. “A month. Maybe a week on either side.”

  “Okay. We’ll need to figure out what to do to update the brewery.”

  “I’ve already been talking to Dottie and some of the staff,” he said, his shoulders relaxing. “First, you need to know that Lurch quit tonight.”

  “Lurch?” she asked in confusion.

  “The brewmaster. He told Dottie he had no desire to work for stuck-up pricks—his phrasing, not mine,” he said with a grin.

  She grimaced. “He’s not far off.”

  Jack’s grin spread, and Georgie couldn’t get over how much he resembled Lee in the rare moments when her older brother actually looked happy. She hadn’t seen it before because of their different coloring, but it was there in his smile. Something she hadn’t seen Lee do in a long, long time.

  “So we’ll need a brewmaster,” she said.

  “Not just any brewmaster. We need a good one,” Jack said. “No, a great one. Our brewmaster will be the key to making Buchanan Brewery great again.”

  “So where do we find a brewmaster?” Georgie asked, then immediately recalled River’s phone conversation with his friend.

  Had he really quit?

  She turned to him, about to say something, but Jack beat her to it. “Dottie happened to mention that the best brewmaster she knows is currently unemployed.” His brow lifted, and he shot a look at River. “Our first executive decision should be offering River a contract to pull us into the twenty-first century.”

  Georgie wholeheartedly agreed, even if her heart sunk a little at the thought that he’d become off-limits.

  Chapter Eight

  “Will you do it, River?” Georgie asked, her eyes glowing.

  About a hundred different thoughts ran through his head, but strangely, the one he settled on was disappointment. Turning Buchanan Brewery around would be the achievement of a lifetime—not to mention an homage to Beau—but it would mean he couldn’t date the owner.

  He’d be stupid to even think about it.

  Of course, he’d already reached the conclusion that Georgie Buchanan wouldn’t want to date him anyway. Hadn’t he?

  Sure, but there’d been that moment when he’d almost kissed her…

  Both of the Buchanans were looking at him now, silently pleading with him—hell, even Jezebel was giving him a dirty look from atop her perch on the cabinets—and he couldn’t help but think he’d be dumber than mud to turn them down. Even if Georgie and Jack probably shouldn’t be making a decision like this without discussing it with their other siblings first. Maybe they wouldn’t want to play an active role, but they were still partial owners.

  But hell, maybe the other two were used to Georgie making decisions for them. She wasn’t the type to hesitate—something he liked about her.

  His mind was already spinning as he thought through all the changes he’d want to make—the brews he’d keep and the ones that would go off the roster. Seasonal beers they’d need to get started on now if they wanted to have them ready for fall. Truthfully, it would feel good to innovate again. Success made life slower in some ways—his job had become more about damage control than about creativity, but now he would have a whole new drawing board.

  He took a deep breath and let it out. “I’ll do it,” he said, looking Georgie in the eye, “on one condition.”

  She bit her lip, as if thinking he might ask for a kiss, and God he wanted to, but he just smiled and said, “I didn’t forget the way your stomach was growling earlier. You should eat something. How about you, Jack? Care for any food? My aunt’s a fantastic cook, and she stocked up the fridge.”

  “Yeah,” Jack said, “thanks. Don’t mind if I do. She mentioned there was some chocolate cake in there with my name on it.”

  Georgie looked at him then, and when their eyes met, she burst into laughter. The sweet sound of it, and the way it made his stomach flutter—almost like he had butterflies, for God’s sake—told him all he needed to know: he was in trouble.

  When River’s phone beeped the next morning, he slapped it like it was a mosquito in his ear, something that hadn’t happened much since he’d done all that camping with his mom when he was a kid. It took a minute for everything to filter back in: in the space of a few hours, he’d quit his job and maybe found a new one.

  But he knew it probably wouldn’t be that easy. Georgie and Jack might want to work with him—they’d spent another hour or two discussing his plans and their ideas—but Georgie was meeting Lee, otherwise known as Junior, and Adalia for breakfast this morning. And Lord knew, Junior was going to push hard to sell. Still, he didn’t figure Georgie or Jack as the type to budge.

  But did he really want to sit in the middle of a sibling feud?

  Yes, he decided—it would be worth it if he could make Buchanan Brewery competitive. It wasn’t the kind of opportunity that was likely to fall into his lap again.

  The question of whether he was ready to keep things professional with Georgie was a whole lot less simple. His mouth twitched into a grin as he remembered the way she’d shouted a warning to Jack when Jezebel leapt down to snatch a piece of sausage he’d dropped in his lap. “Careful, she scratches!” she’d said, and given the cat had landed inches away from his junk, Jack had done the logical thing and tried to shoo her off. Normally, that kind of thing would have thrown her into a rage, but she just batted at his hand as if he was playing, and curled up on his lap.

  Turned out Jezebel had a soft spot for the younger Buchanan brother.

  River checked his phone, saw another three missed texts from Finn, one from Maisie, and another from Georgie. He skipped to that one first: Thanks for being there last night, River. Without you, I’m not sure how it all would have worked out. I hope you really meant you’d work with us, because we’d be lucky to have you.

  He grinned and shook his head a little as he noticed the time stamp: 5:45 a.m. Leave it to Georgie to be awake and writing in full sentences at 5:45 after downing the equivalent of four high-gravity beers. She’d told him her breakfast date with the others was at 8:30, in an hour, so he wouldn’t hear anything else for a while.

  He ignored the messages from Finn, although from the few words he caught, Finn was still deeply in denial. He knew he couldn’t avoid him forever. There’d be some hoops to jump through for the HR employee, Gladys. He’d need to get th
at settled before firming things up with the Buchanans. Still, he didn’t feel like eating bullshit for breakfast. He’d much rather get Maisie’s opinion on everything that had gone down.

  They’d been friends since he first moved to town—sixteen years, as she’d recently reminded him, and he trusted her more than anyone other than Aunt Dottie. And Beau, but Beau was gone.

  Awake, Maisie’s text said, although I didn’t sleep great wondering WTH happened yesterday. I WANT TO KNOW EVERYTHING. Come over to the shelter, STAT. I’d meet you somewhere, but we had seven puppies come in last night. Chaos. Bring coffee and danishes. Dustin’s been here since 7, so please show some love for him too.

  He responded with the thumbs-up emoji and added, Seems like a fair price to pay for your advice. And playing with puppies.

  Forty-five minutes later, he knocked on the locked door of Dog is Love. They didn’t open the doors until ten.

  Dustin, one of Maisie’s regular volunteers, peered through the glass before opening the door. A man with a mane of long white hair and a short, trimmed beard, he’d come to Asheville for retirement after spending forty years selling life insurance in Florida. He still talked about the frigid winter weather in Asheville, even though most winters were mild. Any annoyance that might have caused was offset by the fact that he so regularly donated his time to the shelter. He was one of about a dozen regular volunteers who worked for Maisie. She only had one other full-time employee, Beatrice, who worked on fundraising. It was a small shelter, but they’d saved a lot of lives, something Maisie was rightly proud of. She’d inherited the land from her parents, and the rest had evolved from there. River had helped her in the beginning, back when he was lost. They’d fenced up the outdoor enclosures together.

  “Come on back, River,” Dustin said, beaming at him. “She’s in the playroom with the puppies, but I know she’ll be happy to see you.”

  “Thanks, Dustin.” He reached into the paper bag he carried and pulled out a blue cheese Danish. The very idea of it put him off, but Dustin was extremely vocal about his love for them. “Got something for you too.”

  “Don’t mind if I do,” Dustin said. He grabbed the Danish and headed off to sit at the front desk, leaving River to find his way back. They both knew he didn’t need directions or a guide. The Danish served a dual purpose, actually—it was a nice gesture that Dustin deserved, and it would keep him busy enough that he wouldn’t linger outside the door to listen to their conversation. Maybe it was retirement-induced boredom, but the older man was a known gossip.

  Reaching the small playroom, he did the secret knock he and Maisie had made up when they were teens.

  The door burst open at once.

  “Thank God,” Maisie said, “I needed that coffee like yesterday.”

  She did look tired, although he was wise enough not to say so. Her curly red hair had been scooped back into a fuzzy ponytail, and her eyes had circles under them.

  “This isn’t just because of my news, is it?” he asked. A little sound—to call it a bark would be an exaggeration—drew his gaze to the bottoms of Maisie’s pants. A tiny little multicolored furball was toeing at her leg. Behind it, there were six more, a few of them chasing each other, one gnawing at a toy, and the final two snoozing in a dog bed.

  “Oh yes, River,” she said dryly, “every moment of my life is dependent on yours. Look at these little monsters. I took them home last night because we couldn’t round up volunteers quickly enough. They’re too young to be around the others dogs. Now, give me that coffee.” He handed her one of the coffees and the paper bag, which she immediately opened.

  “Thank God, you got the right one,” she said, pausing to use the industrial-sized bottle of hand sanitizer anchored next to the door before she pulled out the blueberry muffin. She eyed it as if it were of equal importance to the coffee. Knowing that she regularly forgot to eat on rescue days, he figured it probably was.

  “I only got the banana nut once,” he complained.

  “And you’ll never live it down.”

  He rolled his eyes as he set his coffee down on the table against the wall. The little puppy was still clawing at Maisie, even as she sat down, so on impulse he used the hand sanitizer and bent down to scoop up the little puffball.

  The response was several tiny, enthusiastic licks. The dog’s little face looked up at him, the eyes so full of excitement that he didn’t want to put him down. He started petting him instead.

  “Oh, come on,” Maisie said through a mouthful of muffin. “Get going! Talk to me. What the hell happened with Finn? He’s not an idiot. He wouldn’t fire you even if you screwed his mother.”

  “Language,” River quipped, covering the puppy’s ears. In response to her fierce look, he shrugged. “Okay, maybe I quit. Finn told me last night he’s selling to Bev Corp. He didn’t even talk to me about it before he made up his mind.”

  “Seriously?!” Maisie said, her face falling. “Just when I was starting to think he wasn’t such a bro after all.”

  “Uh-huh,” River said. “You don’t need to pretend you don’t like him for my sake. But that’s not actually what I wanted to talk to you about. Something interesting happened last night.”

  He’d meant interesting as in I got the job offer of a lifetime…maybe. But the image that flitted through his mind was of Georgie Buchanan, her hair tumbling out of that immaculate bun, her cheeks pink with laughter.

  And it occurred to him that he didn’t just want advice on whether or not to take the job.

  Maisie tilted her head. “Really, River, there’s no need to be tall, dark, and handsome, and mysterious. Give the rest of us something to do.”

  He snorted a laugh just as the puppy gave him a little nip on his finger. He set him down, and the little dog scampered off to steal the toy his brother or sister was still chewing.

  “Duly noted. I got another job offer last night. It turns out Beau didn’t leave the brewery to his son—he skipped over him and gave it to his grandkids. Two of them have decided to keep it, although I’m not sure what the others will do. Anyway, we got talking last night after the whole thing with Finn, and they offered me a job on the spot. We haven’t talked salary or benefits or anything, but I’m inclined to take it.”

  “Obviously,” Maisie interjected, giving him a play punch to the arm. “This is freaking awesome! You know Beau would have wanted you to be involved.”

  “Well,” River said, playing with the lid of his coffee, “there’s one possible snag.”

  The thing was, he wasn’t quite sure how to bring it up. Which was weird, since he and Maisie usually told each other everything. But he wasn’t the kind of guy who got this tied up over a girl after one night, especially if that one night hadn’t involved anything other than conversation.

  “What could possibly get in the way of you accepting an offer like that?” she asked, glancing down at the puppies. The little multicolored one now had full ownership of the toy, and the one it had displaced looked like it was pouting. Maisie reached into the play bin and tossed it a rope toy.

  When he still didn’t say anything, she glanced back up at him.

  “Oh,” she said, her eyes widening. A moment passed, and then her usual wise-ass smile slid into place. “Let me guess. One of the grandkids in question is a woman. Riverrr has a crushhhhh.”

  Which was the exact same thing she’d said when he’d told her about liking the girl who sat behind him in English junior year.

  “Shut up,” he said, somewhat serious. “Dustin’s going to hear you, and I’ll never live it down. You know that man thinks we’re destined for each other.” And he refused to accept the fact that they were like brother and sister. Dustin was firmly of the men and women can’t be friends camp.

  “Well?” she said. “Am I right?”

  Abandoning the toy, the little puffball puppy raced back over and started nibbling at River’s shoelaces. It was adorable, so he let it happen.

  “You’re giving him bad habits,” she
tsked. “Plus, you still haven’t answered me.”

  “Okay,” he said, meeting her gaze. “Yes, Georgie, Beau’s granddaughter, and I spent a lot of time together last night. I felt like we had a real connection. I’ve never experienced anything like that before, not so quickly.”

  A strange look passed through Maisie’s eyes, but she waved him on. “Continue.”

  “Well, I’m not sure I should accept the job. If I do, there’s no chance anything will happen between Georgie and me. She’s way too professional to consider it. Which is the problem, I guess. I’m not sure what to do. It’s the job of a lifetime, but she might be the girl of a lifetime too.”

  Maisie paused for a second, as if considering. “And did you get the impression she feels the same way about you?”

  He remembered the way she’d looked at him as he leaned in to kiss her, the sparkle in her eyes. “Yeah, she’s interested,” he said, “but she also seemed adamant about hiring me. I’m not sure what to make of it.”

  “River,” she said, “I say this as your best friend of an astronomical number of years…take the job. You’ll regret it if you don’t. What’ll it feel like if they bring someone else in to transform the brewery? It’ll never be right. It’ll never be the way you would have made it. Don’t blow that for a maybe romance. This is too important.”

  It felt like his heart dropped in his chest, although he wasn’t really sure what he’d expected her to say. Maybe he’d come here because he’d known she’d say this. It was true. He couldn’t turn down the offer, if the offer still existed after the breakfast meeting with Georgie’s siblings.

  “Thanks,” he said, nodding. “I guess I needed to hear that.”

  “You can tell me all about it at movie night later.”

  He nodded again, although he’d almost forgotten. So much had happened in the last few days. So much was still happening.