Shattered Dreams (Dream #1)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Autumn

“What do you think?”

Brady stands in front of the desk, his hands on his hips, watching me. “Honest opinion, obviously.”

I bring the small glass back to my lips and take a little sip. The amber liquid hits my tongue right away, followed by the softness of the vanilla, ending with the spice at the back of the throat. But it’s a smooth transition. “I think this one is my favorite.”

I put it to my lips again and take a bigger sip, feeling the same thing this time. “It’s really good.”

“I tweaked a couple of things in the recipe,”

he explains, picking up his own glass and looking at it. “The color is good, not too dark, just light enough.”

Then he brings it to his lips and tastes his drink. “It’s good.”

“It is,”

I agree. “We should serve it tonight.”

“Dad hasn’t tried it yet. He always tries it before anyone.”

My father hasn’t been in the distillery for the past two weeks. He came in once, but he wasn’t feeling so hot, so he went home. Even so, we spend most lunches together with me at his house. He’s getting a touch weaker, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. I try not to notice it, not wanting to think of what the outcome can mean. “Then I suggest you take a bottle over to him and let him try it out. Because I’m serving that tonight.”

“You know you aren’t the boss around here.”

He tries not to smile.

“Yeah.”

I set the glass down and put my elbows on the armrest of the chair, before folding my hands. “Says who?”

I tilt my head, pretending to look around. “Who is going to tell me otherwise?”

“There is no use in arguing with you.”

He grabs the bottle of whiskey we were trying. “I’m going to see Dad.”

“Good decision.”

I grin. “I would have done the same.”

He turns to walk out of the room, stopping to look back. “I don’t know if I told you this lately”—his voice gets softer—“but I’m happy you’re here.”

I swallow down the lump formed in my throat with his declaration. “I don’t know if I told you this lately, but I’m happy I’m here also.”

He nods at me as I blink furiously to make sure the sting of the tears that are threatening to come don’t.

“Be back soon!”

he shouts as he walks out.

“I shall be waiting with bated breath.”

I chuckle to myself before opening the email and seeing a couple of new ones come in from some of the hotels around town. Last week, I went to visit them and pitched the idea of a distillery tour for their guests. We would do small tours of ten people, and they would get ten percent back on all sales. It was no skin off their back to put our flyer out with all the others, and in return, they would make money if people came. The tour would also include a tasting menu, which would hopefully sell some bottles at the same time. They each confirm that a group of ten is coming in next Wednesday, so I make sure I get up and write it on the board. I also brace because it’s not something I mentioned to Brady yet, which should be fun since he’ll be giving the tours.

The day goes by so fast that I don’t even notice it’s almost dinnertime until Brady comes in and puts a plate with a burger and fries on my desk. “Eat,”

he orders, “then get your ass out there.”

He motions with his head. “We’ve already got a couple of tables.”

The chef, who is a cooking student and is doing this for free just to get his feet wet, started today. We are doing a special two-for-one for everyone who comes in from four until seven, but are keeping the kitchen open until the max of nine, depending on how busy it is, hoping to get some of the diner customers. We have started on a small menu for the first couple of weeks to see how things go. The last thing I need is to go in the red even more. “We might have to hire someone soon,”

I say, and he raises his eyebrows. “I said soon, I didn’t say tomorrow.”

“After, not now, we are going to discuss that.”

He points at the calendar where I wrote my message in big letters. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“You’ll love it,”

I say, picking up a fry and dipping it in the ketchup. “It’ll be fun.”

He doesn’t answer me, just walks out while I take a bite of the burger and groan. It’s so fucking good. I finish the whole thing before going to the bathroom, washing my hands, and stepping out to see about ten tables filled with people. I see Brady running back and forth from the kitchen to the front. “What can I do?”

I ask, and he motions with his head to the bar.

“I wrote down the drinks I need,”

he says, carrying two plates to a table of two girls, who smile up at him, one of them blushing. I get behind the bar, and in a matter of thirty minutes, Brady is standing beside me behind the bar, waiting to see who needs us. “This is good,”

he finally admits.

“It’s still too early to tell,”

I warn him. “As much as I want to toot my own horn”—I look over at the tables of people who are from out of town—“we need to bring in some of the locals and spread the word that way.”

“It’ll come,”

he replies, “I have faith.”

I’m about to answer him when I look over at the door and spot him. My heart speeds up and not from the nerves of everyone here, but from seeing not only him, but he’s with his parents, who are holding hands beside him. He looks around the bar and spots me, his face going into a smile. “I take it you’ll handle that table?”

I whip my head to look at my brother. “No.”

My neck tingles. “You can do that.”

His face lights up. “Oh, but then I won’t have fun teasing you.”

He picks up his finger and taps my nose. “You’re it.”

“Brady,”

I hiss at him as I look over and see the three of them have taken stools at the fucking bar. Not in the front, nope, the three on the side, where it’s more intimate. “I’ll be back,”

he says to me, turning and walking out from behind the bar from the other side.

I take a deep inhale and turn to walk to them; they are customers, after all. “Hi,”

I greet them, looking at Quinn first, who smiles at me, then Willow—who has the biggest smile on her face—before falling on Charlie, who is looking at me with a sly smile. “Welcome.”

I am going to remain professional and hope like fuck his parents don’t catch on to anything.

“Hey,”

Charlie says, “I didn’t know you started serving food.”

“We just started,”

I reply. “Something to help bring in people.”

“Well, it smells delicious,”

Willow states, “and looks it also.”

I turn, grabbing three little square menus that I made and laminated.

“Here you go.”

I hand them each one. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“I saw on your social media that you have a new blend,”

Quinn mentions and I try not to think about that he was searching me online because he found out I was banging his son and wants to make sure I’m good enough for him.

“We do.”

I avoid looking at him. “Let me get you a taster.”

I turn and walk around, trying to act like I’m not dying inside.

I pour three small glasses before turning and placing them down in front of them.

“Can I get a soda water?”

Charlie says to me, and I nod, shocked that he’s not drinking with his parents.

“This is good,”

Quinn declares, taking another sip, “smooth.”

Willow picks up her glass. “Oh, it doesn’t even burn going down.”

She looks at her husband. “I love this.”

She throws back the rest of the shot. “Can I have another?”

“Relax there, sweetheart,”

Quinn says to her.

“I’m on vacation. Sitting with my son and my husband. I can’t be safer.”

She looks at me. “I’ll have another, please.”

I smile at her. “You got it.”

I walk over and take a glass down and fill it halfway. I add a big cube of ice before making my way back and putting it down in front of her. “Happy vacation.”

I glance over at Quinn, who is looking at his wife with a glare, but you can see he doesn’t mean it. “Are you guys going to try the food?”

I ask, looking at Charlie. “I had the burger and it was so good.”

“I’ll take that,”

Charlie says, handing me the menu.

“I’ll take that also,”

Willow agrees, as does Quinn, who also orders a glass of the new whiskey.

I walk into the kitchen, seeing the chef going back and forth. “How is it going?”

I ask and he smiles.

“So good,”

he confirms. “I haven’t stopped a second and I’m loving every single minute of it.”

“Great,”

I say. “I’ll take three cheeseburgers with fries.”

“Coming up in about ten,”

he replies, dropping fries in the fryer. I walk out to see Brady seating two more people before walking to another table to take an order.

“It’ll be ten minutes,”

I tell them, and Willow smiles at me.

“I’m so happy you’re here,”

she says. I can see her cheeks are a bit pink, and I wonder if the whiskey is already working. “So tell us what you’ve been up to.”

“Um,”

I start nervously, “not much, really. I was working for a bar up north.”

Charlie’s eyebrows rise at that news. “Came home to help out. Not sure how long I’m going to be here.”

“Maybe you’ll change your mind and stay put,”

Quinn states. “Home is where the heart is.”

“So they say.”

I smile at him. “I don’t have any plans to leave for now.”

I avoid looking at Charlie but I can feel his stare.

Quinn looks around. “I forgot how nice it was in here,”

he says, picking up his glass. “What else have you done?”

“She’s done so much,”

Brady breaks into the conversation. “She doesn’t stop coming up with ideas.”

“Excuse me,”

I say, turning and walking around the bar and heading toward the distillery part of the room. The darkened hallway is lit up by the small circle coming from the swinging door. I’m about to step through it to get my nerves under control, when I feel a hand around my wrist. I look over my shoulder as he turns me and pushes me against the corner of the door. “Charlie.”

I barely have his name out of my mouth before his lips fall onto mine. His tongue slips in to play with mine. My eyes close as he kisses me, my head screaming at me that someone could see. My hands go to his sides, and instead of pushing him away, I squeeze him to stay where he is. He puts one hand over my head, while the other wraps around my waist and pulls me to him.

The kiss is soft yet intense, and when he lets go of my lips, I want to pull him back. “Hi,”

he says softly.

“Hi,”

I whisper.

“How is your day?”

I blink, trying to get my bearings.

“Good. You?”

“Good,”

he replies, “my parents are in town.”

As if I didn’t see him come in with them. “So I’ll be coming to your house.”

“Um, I don’t think that’s a good idea,”

I say, and all he does is grin before coming back down and kissing me.

“I’ll see you out there.”

He gives me one more kiss before walking away from me. I hear the bell ring from the kitchen and walk back out, seeing that more people have arrived.

I grab the three plates of burgers before walking out and placing it down in front of Charlie and his family. “This looks so good,”

Willow notes, picking up the burger. “So tell me, Autumn, are you dating anyone?”