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And then, like a villain in a melodrama about some poor sap getting their dreams trampled on, he cackled manically. “No, Ms. Hansen, there will be no piece about Vanir.” Narrowing his eyes, he added, “No today, not ever!”

As he started stomping for the stairs, I pleaded, “Please give me another chance.”

Ignoring me, he rushed up the stairs. I’m not sure what happened after that because I slipped into a kinda catatonic state where you’re frozen as a reel replays what just happened over and over in your mind.

I barely remembered Mom and Rory helping me out of my soaked dirndl and into a new one. Despite their best efforts to get me to talk, I’d lumbered over to my desk and plopped down in my chair. Thankfully, they left me alone.

After faceplanting on the desktop, I’d remained frozen. Because of the cuckoo clock in my office, I knew thirty minutes had passed. It was then I heard heels clicking across the mahogany floor. Even though I heard someone to the right of me, I didn’t lift my head. I also ignored the unmistakable clink of a glass being set on my glass-top desk.

“Drink up,” Annie instructed.

Fuck me. The news must’ve traveled fast for her to take her lunchtime at the bookstore to come check in on me.

“Just leave me,” I mumbled against the desk.

“What kind of self-respecting younger sister would I be if I left you alone?”

“The kind that recognizes someone in the first stages of a nervous breakdown.”

“Fuck that, and fuck him!” At my groan, she took me by the shoulders and jerked me upright. “Like I said earlier today, you don’t need a man to do this, Mina.”

“I needed the publicity to sell more beer to get the capital I needed to open a larger brewing plant,” I argued.

“We can still find a way for that to happen.”

With a venomous smirk, I countered, “Says the same woman who is too scared of her own writing dreams to send her book out to agents.”

My chest clenched when her eyes sparked with hurt instead of sarcasm. As she stepped back from the desk, I rose out of my chair. “Fuck, Annie, I’m sorry.”

And then her mask slid into place. With a mirthless laugh, she replied, “Why are you apologizing? It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

Shaking my head, I replied, “It was a low blow.”

“Maybe it’s just a sign that both of us need to get our heads out of our asses and get seriously in the game.”

“I like that idea.”

Nodding, she replied, “Good. First place you can start is by getting your mind off of things.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?”

“By taking the fucking shot, and then go outside for some Vitamin D.”

With a resigned sigh, I replied, “I guess you’re right. Sulking in here isn’t helping. Besides, I really should be supportive and go out and watch the parade.”

Annie wagged her brows. “I was thinking more about finding you a man to get your mind off things.”

My eyes bulged in horror. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m dead serious.” Cocking her brows at me, she asked, “Just how long has it been?”

Considering I’d been so focused on the brewery business, it had been a long time. Like coochie cobwebs kinda long time. “A while,” I admitted.

“Then get out there and get you some!”

“I think you’re forgetting our pact.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I countered, “No tourists, remember?”

“I think even Rory would agree to forgo our pact if it would put a smile on your face,” Annie grinned.