Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 103552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Avery carried a tray of beers to the new group and made her way back, picking up the conversation where we’d left off. “So that was it? Non-specific bragging about how great he is and how I’m incompetent without his guidance?”
“Pretty much,” I said. “At least, as far as I’ve heard.”
She let out a huff of breath and shook her head. “For now, I’m going to ignore it, no matter how much I want to shut him up. Protesting isn’t going to make me look more competent, you know? And complaining about gossip just makes me sound like a whiner.”
I didn’t like the passivity of it. I wanted her to fight back, but I knew how this would go. I might be a man, but I wasn’t blind. Matthew was getting a pass on his gossip. If Avery spoke up, she risked being labeled emotional or catty. It wasn’t fair, but she was right. For now, she was better off ignoring him.
“Did you make any progress on the missing recipe?” I asked.
She shrugged a shoulder as she dried and polished pint glasses she removed from an under-counter dishwasher. “Maybe. It’s too soon to say. We have the Halloween party at the Orchard next week. The first and maybe last time we serve the original version of the fall brew. I don’t know if I’m hoping it’s amazing or hoping it sucks so I don’t feel bad about losing the recipe.” She sighed and glanced at me. “I don’t suppose there’s been any clues about who broke in?”
I hated having to shake my head. “Not yet. I’m not giving up.”
Avery reached out and laid her palm over my hand, her fingers curling around mine to squeeze once before she slid her hand away.
“I know you won’t give up.”
“You have any luck tracking down that jewelry designer?” I asked quietly, though there was no one close enough to overhear. I wasn’t taking any chances.
She shook her head. “Not yet. Sterling’s trying to get the address.” She raised an eyebrow, and the corner of her mouth curled up. “I’m not going to say anything else about that.”
“Probably better that you don’t,” I said, my tone dry. “When it comes to Sterling and her new connections, I figure the fewer questions I ask, the better.”
Avery grinned. “I think you’re right. Who knew she had all those numbers and formulas running through her head?”
“I’m not surprised,” I said. “I always had a feeling there was something more...” I searched for a better word. “She was always so angry—angry at your father, angry, I think, at the rest of you for going on with your lives and leaving her.”
Avery winced, and I shook my head, “Not saying you should have done anything different. You had a life to live, too. And it wasn’t easy for any of you in that house.”
“Still, we should have done better by Sterling. Maybe by Brax too,” she said, her eyes shading dark as she thought of her younger brother, dead these last few months. The Sawyers’ grief had been a painful tangle. Their brother was dead, shot before he could carry through with his plan to murder Sterling and Forrest. No one had wanted Brax dead, but in the moment, there hadn’t been a choice.
I didn’t have anything comforting to offer on the subject of Brax. He’d lost any compassion I had when he tried to kill his sister. They’d all grown up with the same nightmare of a father. Only Brax had chosen murder. Instead, I said, “We all have our own road to go down. This was Sterling’s. She had a messy start, but it feels like she’s hit her stride.”
“Yeah, she has,” Avery said with a genuine smile. “I’m so proud of her. And a little afraid of what she’ll do with all of this—you know, working with Sinclair Security. What if she moves to Atlanta?”
“Atlanta isn’t that far. She’ll figure it out,” I said, taking another sip of beer.
A customer at the end of the bar caught Avery’s eye. “One sec,” she said before moving to take his order. Once that was taken care of, she grabbed an empty tray and circled the room, clearing empties and taking new orders, ringing them up on various tabs, running cards, and making change.
I could tell she loved seeing people enjoy her taproom.
I was surprised when my phone beeped with an alert, and I realized it was after 10 p.m. With an early morning in my future, I didn’t need another beer. I should pay my tab and walk home. As I pushed my stool back, I realized I didn’t want to. I felt good sitting in Avery’s taproom, talking about nothing and everything in the short chunks of time she had free. She was closing soon. I could stay and walk her to her car.