Page 73 of Best Kind of Trouble
“Salutations,” I say. “We’d like to invite you to join us in song. We’re trying to help our new beer reach peak fermentation in time to serve at our New Year’s Eve party next week. You all know about the New Year’s Eve party, right?”
“Yeah!” Otis shouts, joined by no one.
“Fantastic,” I continue. “So we’re going to sing ‘Champagne Supernova’ to the beer.”
People have started to chatter disinterestedly again, so I add, “And anyone who sings with us gets a free round of our delicious tropical IPA, on the house.”
We’ve all agreed it’s the least successful of Bubba’s brews, and the one we’d like to offer up first at the drink-us-dry party. His pale ale is also on the list, since we’ll hopefully have our own, as well as the overly sweet holiday ale.
Spontaneous applause erupts across the room.
I grin at Briar. “Two birds, one stone.”
She surprises me by reaching out and squeezing my hand before walking behind the bar to get the song queued up on the sound system. We smile at each other as we sing along, our interwoven voices leading the charge. Everyone joins in—even Ann, who looked up in astonishment and then started humming along.
I don’t hate it. Not even a little.
We’re belting out the last lyrics when the front door swings open, and my sister, Sophie, and Nora walk in, all of them pink-cheeked from the cold.
Hannah comes up to me after the last strains play, her coat still on and cold air wafting from her. “What kind of pod person are you, and what did you do to my brother?”
Laughing, Briar circles the bar to greet them. “We were singing to the beer. Liam said your dad used to do it.”
Hannah smiles at the memory, but I can see uneasiness in her eyes. I’m behaving like a lovesick schoolboy, and she knows it’s unusual for me.
Turning back toward Briar, Hannah says, “If you’ve resorted to singing, it’s a good thing Nora brought your backup plan, huh? We’ve got the kegs outside in her truck.”
“Backup plan?” I repeat, glancing at Briar.
Briar bites her bottom lip—a nervous tell of hers.
People are already lining up at the bar for their free beers, and Otis, who was all about this plan five minutes ago, seems to have withered and has a fixed smile on his face as he starts to fill cups with the IPA.
“It’s just in case,” Briar says, commanding my attention. Her tone is apologetic, her eyes pools of emotion.
“Oh.” I feel like she just dealt me a gut punch at the end of aboxing match. “You bought cider from Nora for the New Year’s Eve party.”
“We have to be prepared for anything.”
I nod, knowing she’s right. Briar’s got business smarts, always. She has to look toward the future and do what’s best for everyone. But it still burns. She told me she believed in me, and all along she had a backup plan lined up, which means she thinks I might fail. Maybe she’s certain I will, and she’s been feeding me a bunch of bullshit.
Briar reaches for my arm across the bar, her gaze seeking mine. “It’s a good idea anyway. It’s a new release for The Ginger Station. We’re both going to have it on tap on New Year’s Eve, but they’re closing early.”
Anger spikes through me, and I pull away. “And you didn’t think that was relevant information for your brewer?”
My sister glares at me. “Maybe she thought you’d overreact for some mysterious reason.”
“I’m fine,” I say, sounding distinctly not fine. “You’re leaving for New York tonight?”
Hannah’s red curls bob with her nod. “I know you’re the one who sent me this sweatshirt, by the way.”
I force a smile. “It suits you.”
It’s a dark-green hoodie withWorst. Nanny. Ever.scrawled across the chest. We love giving each other a hard time, Hannah and I, but she knows how I feel. She was the best nanny ever to Ollie, same as she’s been the best sister ever to Connor and me.
I’m annoyed at myself for breaking my promise to her. But, dammit, it sucks that Briar went behind my back. I can feel her staring at me, silently begging me not to be mad, because she can’t stand it when people are upset with her.
Which really pisses me off, because part of me wants to make her feel better for having made me feelworse.
