“Since I first arrived.” I hug her a little harder, steeling myself for the next thing I’m going to say. “I ran into Finn at the grocery store.”
Surprise lights her eyes. “Did it go okay?”
Hell no. “He made a cryptic comment about you getting poached by another brewery.”
Guilt darkens the brown of her hazel irises. My stomach fills with sawdust. She didn’t tell me. She licks her lips, and it’s barely a distraction. That’s how much I don’t want to hear what she has to say.
“Yes, actually, I got a call last week. Duncan Sterling has some property outside of Dickinson and is considering making a brewery part of his endeavors. He asked me to come on board.”
Fury wicks up my spine, and I want to flip a table. I want to smash all of them. But she’s in my arms, and I won’t ruin that. “What did you say?”
“I told him yes, and that I’ll start on Monday.”
Her flippancy is loud and clear, but my blood pressure makes my temples pound. “Don’t fuck with me like that.”
“Why?” She turns serious. “I honestly haven’t thought about it much. There’s no point, unless we make our decision, but it’s a flattering job offer. He wants me in charge—ofallthe brewing. I would get to choose what to make. If I go to Denver, I’ll be the one begging to get hired, and I’ll most likely start at the bottom.”
“But it won’t be working for Duncan Sterling.” Dickinson is almost as far away from me as Scandal is.
She leans back, and the few inches feel like miles. “He will be the owner, yet I’d have more freedom with him than if we decided to keep the brewery running.”
“Running this place as it is not enough for you?”
Shit. I shouldn’t have said that.
She’s off me in a second. “And just how would it work? Maybe we should discuss that before Saturday. What would happen if I said, ‘Hey, we’re serving root beer.’ Or, ‘Oh, and I’m brewing it too’? ‘By the way, I have an Irish red I’m dying to make.’ Will you or your brothers insist it has to be your mom’s precious recipes?”
The emotions of the whole damn lunch coalesce into a twister inside my chest. My chair skitters across the floor as I jolt upward. “This is her place.”
“It’sourplace.” She probes her forehead with her fingertips. “Would you punish me for not making the same decision as your brothers? Would you retaliate if I didn’t move and chose to stay back and run the brewery?”
Hurts punches me in the sternum. “Jesus, Meredith. It’s not like that.”
She drops her hands. “Are you sure? When it’s gone, there’s nothing left, and it’s like you want to erase it all.”
“We’re moving on.”
“You’re running.” She puffs a lock of hair out of her face. “I did that once, and it didn’t go well.”
“Meredith—”
“You asked me to come to Denver with you.” She’s breathing steady, but it’s like she forcing it, like her heart rate’s getting away from her. “Your brothers hope I’ll either follow you and give up on all things Scandal, or that I’ll be so stuck in this mess I decide to let it all go anyway.”
“We never said that.”
“You didn’t have to. I fully remember hearing you basically say that saving all this is pocket change for you. I’m sure it’d be an excellent tax write-off, yet all you’re giving me is time.”
There’s nothing to argue with. I’m not proud of it, but she’s correct. Deep down, yeah, that’s what I hope will happen.
“I want to be with you.”
“But you’ve only considered how to have me if I move. Have your brothers considered not selling? I’ve agonized over all the factors, wondering what to do, but have any of you done the same? Have you considered other options?” She faces me, hands on her hips, but there’s a slight tremble in her jaw. “What if I asked you to stay?”
My heart thuds to a stop. “What? Meredith, I can’t?—”
“And there’s a third option that we haven’t discussed.” Her shoulders drop, and she exhales a gusty breath. “I don’t go with you, but I also don’t stay here. I can take the job offer with Duncan and manage a brewery how I want to.”
“His brewery still won’t be yours.”
