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Bec nodded. “Okay. You get the malt. I’m thinking pilsner and maybe some pale crystal.”
“I can do that.” Schlepping bags of grain around the brewery floor should help take his mind off Ruth and her rat bastard ex if anything could.
Of course, it was always possible that nothing could do that.
…
Ruth worked steadily in the cheese room until ten. Brett showed up a little after eleven with the morning’s milk. He wasn’t overjoyed to hear about the return of his former brother-in-law.
“What did the prick want?”
“He wants to visit Carol, so I guess I’ll bring her home. Don’t tell her what’s happening, though. I’ll explain it when I pick her up.”
Brett looked like he’d bitten into a sour apple. “Too bad. Ginger’s been enjoying having her around. They’re both going to be disappointed. You want to pick her up tonight?”
Tonight. She thought of Liam showing up at midnight to find a sullen twelve-year-old ensconced upstairs. She thought of how much she’d been looking forward to their sort-of date. “Make it tomorrow. That way she can have another night.”
Brett nodded. “Sounds good. Make the prick wait. No reason Ginger and Carol have to do what he wants.”
“No reason at all.” And this way Ruth got to have one more night with her dashing bartender before reality intruded once again.
Chapter Sixteen
Liam wasn’t sure if McCullough was being more obnoxious than usual or if his own desire to head for Ruth’s place had weakened his tolerance for bullshit. He found himself gritting his teeth and trying to avoid the kitchen as much as possible. It was hard enough to be polite to the customers at the bar when he was feeling impatient with the universe. Having to also be relaxed about McCullough’s rants was almost more than he could manage.
He was fairly sure McCullough was drinking in the kitchen. He still managed to get the orders out, but the difference between his cooking skills and Peaches’s was becoming more obvious every day. Liam supposed there were worse restaurants in town, and they were still pulling in tourists. But nobody was happy, not McCullough, not the waitresses, and certainly not Liam.
Why was Stanton letting the tavern go downhill? It pissed Liam off. Black Mountain Tavern had been a class act once upon a time, before Stanton took over the lease. The previous operator, Garrett Wilhelm, had had a heart attack and pulled out last year. When Wilhelm had been in charge, it had been one of the best bars in Antero. Now it was turning into a dive because Stanton was too cheap to make it work.
After he managed to serve enough beer to keep the crowds at least slightly happy, he saw Stanton enter from the street, frowning as he counted the house. A few drinkers still hung around the bar, and there were others at the pinball machine at the back. The tourists held down the front tables, but the locals were no longer coming in the way they had in the past.
“This place is a fucking money sink,” Stanton grumbled.
“Yeah?” Liam took a quick survey of the tavern interior. He couldn’t see anything that showed Stanton had invested much money in the place during the last six months.
“We’re going to need to find some way to cut back on the food and liquor budget. We’re barely making a profit.”
Liam kept quiet about the difference in customer numbers when Peaches had been in the kitchen versus the current situation. Stanton wasn’t interested in hearing more criticism of McCullough. “It’s the slow season. We’re still pulling in the tourists, but they’ve started to head back to put their kids in school. Business will pick up again when the skiers hit the slopes. It always does.”
Stanton gave him a jaundiced look. “That’s assuming we’re still open then.”
Liam narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t sure what Stanton was working up to, but he didn’t think it was good. “Yeah, always assuming that. But this place has a good rep. And the number of beer drinkers has stayed pretty steady.”
Stanton narrowed his eyes. “I suppose that’s good from your point of view.”
“I’d say it’s good from everybody’s point of view. Money spent on beer is as good as money spent on food.”
