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“The logo and apparel looks fantastic, sunshine,” I say to Celeste, as me, Georgia, Celeste and now Brooklyn—who’s pushed his way into Georgia’s office to see what we’re looking at—all stare at the screen.
Celeste’s nickname has always been sunshine since we were kids. Callan came up with it, of course, because she’s like a ray of sunshine. The name stuck. She smiles up at me, her long blonde hair flowing over one shoulder. She certainly has a more radiant glow to her than when she moved back here at the same time my parents announced their retirement at the family dinner.
“Thanks, Gray. I tweaked it here and there.”
“Gabe didn’t like the first few fonts, of course.” Georgia rolls her eyes.
“Gabe is sometimes a real stick in the mud. You know what he’s like,” Brooklyn adds. “He has to have the last word.”
No truer words have been spoken.
“You guys seemed okay the other night at Moose’s?” Brook says as Georgia flips through all the images for the female range of shirts, from your basic smart polo to a long-sleeve jersey and a sweater for winter.
I shrug. “We haven’t talked much. I think he’s avoiding me.”
“He’s still bidding for a hostile takeover.” Georgia informs us, pushing her black wide-rimmed glasses up her nose. She only wears them when she’s on the computer.
I chuckle to myself. “Yeah, I’m sure anyone that came to the family dinner that night is more than aware of his opinion on it.”
Brook pats me on the back. “Don’t worry about it,” he says. “He’ll get over it, eventually. He always does.”
“He needs to loosen up a little,” I say. That’s saying something from me, given that until now I’ve been pretty highly strung. I blame Keira for most of that.
Given that I don't want to give her one more cent than what is agreed upon, I've delayed finalizing the sale for my share in the music company until I settle my divorce.
“How did it go today?” Brooklyn asks me as we finish looking through the rest of the men’s uniforms. I personally think they look excellent. As do the jackets they’re designing with caps and a backpack. The store will have most of the designs available for customers to purchase. The logo is both classic and elegant, while the uniforms are long overdue and essential to our brand.
I follow him back down to production in the basement below the distillery.
He spends a lot of time reviewing and liaising with our assistant production manager, Jarrod, and several other workers he has down there.
Brook knows I was meeting my lawyer.
“You wouldn’t even believe it if I told you,” I sigh. Thanks to Huds, asking me about it in front of everyone, they all know about Hartley. Her name hasn't been mentioned, but I don't want to go into detail about it yet.
“That good, huh?”
“Why can’t everyone be like you and Eden when it comes to divorce?” I say, exasperated. Following him down the steep descent of steps into the production area. “You two are role models for how things should be done.”
He grins and shrugs. “Most people just live for the drama, I guess. I’m lucky,” he says. “Eden and I made an agreement early on to handle things differently if we ever split. We knew we would always remain friends, especially because of our daughter.”
“I’m glad Eden isn’t a blood sucking bitch,” I gripe. “That could have something to do with it.” It could have been so much worse for him if Eden had gone for the jugular, but they handled it all so beautifully and they did what they said they’d do—they still get along.
“You know Mom wants us all to have dinner over at Aunt Patti and Uncle Jack’s place on Sunday night,” Brook says.
Now I think about it, Mom did mention that the other night before I went to Moose’s.
“Do you have Blake this weekend?”
“Sure do.” He grins. She alternates between spending a week with Brooklyn and then her mom, with intermittent meet-ups for sports and other activities after school. It’s never been a strict custody thing between them, which is another admirable thing when you’re raising a child together.
“Good.” I adore his daughter, and Gabe’s too, so I’m hanging out to catch up with my nieces.
“She’s growing up so damned fast.” He runs a hand through his hair as we get to the bottom of the steps and looks up at me. “It goes by in the blink of an eye.”
“I bet it does.”
He smiles and gives me his signature slap on the back. “Your time will come, brother.”
