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But Eric would always try to push his salad aside with his fork, wanting to be just as Irish as Michael Donovan. Then his dad would wink and take a big bite of salad. “We’d better do what she wants, son. We’ve got to teach your baby brother to eat healthy, even if it makes us feel like rabbits.”
Christ, Michael Donovan had been a good man. The best. And when he’d died, Eric had tried his damnedest to step into those shoes. Apparently, he’d failed miserably.
Eric cleared his throat and wiped his hands on a towel. “Jamie,” he said, tossing the towel on the counter and turning toward his brother. “I’ve been thinking.”
Jamie’s eyes narrowed as if that were a threat.
“You’re busy now with all the restaurant planning. You’ve got your hands full. So why don’t I take over the trade show circuit?”
“What do you mean?” he growled.
“I mean you won’t have the time to travel for a while. With all the hiring and training and the marketing push. It’s going to be crazy.”
“You hate the shows,” Jamie said.
Yeah, he did. But he’d do it for his little brother. Eric shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I know you’re sort of the face of the company, but—”
“But you’d be happy to take that over?”
Eric frowned at the edge in his brother’s voice. “I wouldn’t say happy, but we obviously need to shift—”
Jamie laughed. “I can’t believe this. I finally get a little more responsibility, and now you want to start chipping away at my public role?”
“That’s not it at all. I’m trying to help. I’m trying to be supportive.” He sneered the word even though he didn’t mean to, but Jamie was starting to piss him off.
“Oh, yeah?” Jamie scoffed. “Since when?”
“Guys,” Tessa warned.
Eric ignored her and took a step forward. “Since when? Since I got behind this restaurant idea in the first place. Since I told you to go ahead and turn our brewery into something else.”
Tessa held up both hands. “We are not supposed to talk about work on Sundays. That’s the rule.”
Jamie ignored her, just as Eric had. He crossed his arms and offered that tight smile again. “Something else, huh? Something not as good as your ideas for the brewery, is that what you’re saying? Is that what you’ve been thinking this whole time?”
“Something just like every other goddamned brewpub in the state!” Eric shouted.
Now even Olivia seemed alarmed. She got up from her chair and put her hand on Jamie’s arm. “Why don’t we go watch TV? Is it still baseball season?”
“Don’t worry,” Jamie said. “This is nothing unusual. I’m used to always being the one in the wrong.”
“That’s not what I said,” Eric interrupted. “I’m trying to help.”
“Really? Because you seem to manage just fine with balancing all your work at the brewery and still making the trade show trips.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” Eric snapped. “This is all new for you. It’ll take you time to adjust.”
“I think it’s taking you time to adjust, Eric. And I think you don’t want me at trade shows, talking up all the changes we’re making, because you don’t approve.”
“Screw you,” Eric responded. “This discussion is over.”
“Good!” Tessa yelped.
But Jamie shook his head. “No, you don’t get to start a fight and pretend you didn’t. Not after this week.”
“Don’t,” Eric warned.
“Don’t what? Don’t bring up what you did?”
