Page 21 of Feel It in the Air

“Nine years younger than you, August,” Milo tsks. Even without the use of my full name, or his sassy tone, I know exactly where this is going. “That’s a hell of an age gap. You sure that’s a good idea?”

And there it is. Using my own words against me. Fucker.

Can’t say I don’t deserve it. I gave Milo a hell of a time this past summer when he took up with Brenna Rawlins, who is twelve years younger than he is, telling him I didn’t think it was a good idea. To be fair, it wasn’t just the age difference, although that did play a large part in it. The fact that her brother is his best friend and business partner was the other part of it. Turns out I was wrong there on both counts.

“It doesn’t matter; she’s a Hayes employee.”

I steal a fry from Jace’s plate, swiping it through the large pool of ketchup before popping it into my mouth. I chew slowly, as if each movement of my jaw massages the regret I feel a little more. I managed to fuck up a chance encounter with the most perfect woman I’ve ever met, only to have her show up in Hickory Hills and be my employee. I don’t know what I did to piss off karma this badly, but I’d like the chance to buy her a beer and apologize.

“So?” Jace and Anton counter in unison.

I stare back at them, continuing to gnash the fry between my teeth, leaving their reaction hanging in the air. So? So? They can’t be serious. Yet, the way they’re looking at me tells me they most certainly are.

“She’s a Hayes employee,” I repeat, as if I was somehow unclear the first time. I know I wasn’t, but maybe this time it will penetrate their thick skulls.

“What’s your point?” Jace gestures outwardly with his hands, as if my statement still doesn’t mean a damn thing to him.

“Seriously?”

“There isn’t actually a rule against that,” Anton replies. “We have lots of couples who work here. My production manager, Alex—his wife, Marisela, is the seasonal employee coordinator. And the gal who runs the quality line, Kristie—her husband, George, works for Hux over at the mill. Mary and Bill on my sorting line? They’ve been married for longer than I’ve been alive, and Kurt, who actually just started working with Cary on the new hybrid of pecans, is engaged to a girl in accounting.”

“Hickory Hills isn’t that big, dude, and we employ, like, half the town,” Jace adds.

I look between my younger brothers, my brain processing what they’re saying. On the one hand, they aren’t wrong. We are the largest employer in Hickory Hills and if I stop and think about it, I can name a number of married couples who work here, on top of the ones Anton already rattled off. Some even in the same department. Actually, now that I’m putting legitimate brain power into this, if I recall, Hux actually has an entire family working for him.

There’s one major difference.

“None of them are a Hayes.”

It’s a simple statement of fact. One that they can’t refute. Like it or not, the rules are different for us. That’s something that Auggie taught us from a young age. We are held to a different—often times higher—standard, all because of our last name. It means something. People expect things from us.

Like not dating our employees.

“Me and Brenna?” Milo snarks, throwing his arms out wide as he sits back in his seat. He looks smug, like he just threw down a full house of kings and aces in a game of poker, wiping the table clean.

“Brenna’s not a Hayes employee. Although did you bring that paperwork to legal? Are we bringing the drugstore under the Hayes umbrella?”

Milo waves me off, as if my legitimate work question has no place here. Sorry for being logical.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Gus.” He shakes his head. “Brenna Heidi Rawlins is too on the Hayes payroll. I woulda thought you’d know this.” He chuckles, clearly enjoying that he has one up on me. “Patrick insisted she fill out all the paperwork and be an on-the-books employee before he would let her help out behind the bar. That way even if we weren’t paying her and she was just volunteering, we were covered. Workman’s comp and all that bullshit.”

I bite my tongue, having to stop myself from making a comment about how it’s good to know he was not only screwing the little sister of his best friend and business partner, but his employee. Because as epically a bad decision as that was, I know he’s only going to tell me it’s the best one he’s ever made.

So I keep quiet.

Instead, I look back down at my phone. The Hayes logo glares back at me, my screensaver muted from the lack of notifications. The itch to text Margeaux is even stronger now, but I need to resist. I don’t even know that she’d want to date me. Not after I didn’t call. She was able to walk away and never talk to me again. And I can’t blame her there. So it would be a lot to assume that she would agree to go out with me. Frankly, I’m lucky she agreed to be friends.

“It’s not like she works directly for you,” Anton says. “So, what’s the worry?”

What is the worry? How do I explain this? I know that no matter what I say, they won’t understand. They’ll think that I’m being too uptight and hardheaded. Maybe I am. Still, there is something inside me that is telling me that as the executive vice president of this company, it’s not right to date our newest hire. Even if I can’t stop thinking about her.

“She’s focused on the job. And I respect that.”

It's an excuse. I know it. They know it. But it’s better than admitting the truth—that I’m too afraid to find out if she’s even still interested in me.

“Just go talk to Carl in HR. As long as he knows about it, you’re fine,” Jace says, his attention turned back to the door. “That her?”

“No,” I answer, not looking up. Just go talk to Carl. Maybe I should. At least find out my options. Just in case there’s a chance that more than friends could be on the table.