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Declan was right, I was good at event planning, but the idea of being the sole person responsible for marketing for the brewery gave me hives. Anxiety built up inside me, just thinking about all the pressure that would be on me. I didn’t want to have another mental breakdown like I did with my last marketing position. I’d rather stay behind the bar and give Declan my input when he asked.
“I like serving beer and engaging with the customers,” I said.
All true. But still not the real reason I didn’t want the job.
“When was the last time you went on vacation?” he asked.
I gave him a quizzical look. What did that have to do with the marketing director position?
I hadn’t taken a vacation in several years. Since Declan hired me at the brewery, all I did was work and pick up extra shifts because I always needed the money. When I lived on South Street, I was barely getting by because my rent had been so expensive on top of the gas for my commute. That was why I jumped at moving into Avery’s apartment when she moved in with Nolan.
“Not for a while. Why?” I asked.
“Look, take time off. I hired more help to free up the schedule. I want you to think hard about your future. Being a bartender’s fun and all, but if you’re not thinking of your five-year-plan, your career isn't going anywhere.”
I didn’t want to go anywhere. I loved working for the brewery.
He held up a hand before I could argue. “I want you to think about your career here at the brewery. It’s unfair for me to ask so much of you when it’s not in your job description. I want you as my right hand. Nolan’s shit at business. I need someone who likes to do stuff I don’t give a fuck about.”
“Fine,” I spat and glared at him. “It was a real dick move taking me off the schedule.”
“It was the only way I’d get you to listen. I’m serious about you spending time away from the brewery and thinking about it. You could use a vacation. Go down the shore or something. Okay?”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Fine.”
I left the office in a huff, pissed that I was losing my hours because my boss thought he knew what I wanted out of my career better than I did.
I walked behind the bar, tore off my apron, and clocked myself out. Declan would pay me for the time I spent dealing with his bullshit meddling.
Felix gave me a curious glance while he filled a beer from the tap. “Everything okay?” he asked.
I glared at him. “Like you care.”
“Gemma, I’m—”
“Save it. I’m outta here.”
Was I being a dick to him? Yes. Did he deserve it? Absolutely.
I wanted a beer, but if I stayed at the brewery to drink one, we’d get into another screaming match. Instead, I stormed out and walked over to my sister’s house. I was seeing red, but I needed her to help me be rational about this. Maybe I should quit. That would really show Declan.
Avery opened the door, and as soon as she saw the anguish on my face, she pulled me into a big hug. I leaned into the hug, bending down because my sister was short. I got Dad’s height and lanky frame, while Avery was a little curvy and petite like Mom had been. I only knew that from photographs because I didn’t remember Mom. I only thought about Mom when I made her lasagna or when it rained. When it stormed so hard, lightning shone through the entire night sky; it reminded me of the worst day of my life.
Avery sat me down at her kitchen table, and then I burst into tears.
“Oh, sis, what’s wrong?” she asked.
I wiped my eyes. “Shit. Avs, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come crying to you like I always do.”
She reached across the table, grabbed a box of tissues, and handed it to me. “I know, but I’m always here for you. What’s going on?”
I dabbed at my eyes. “Declan wants me to go on vacation.”
She squinted at me, her gaze clouding with confusion. “Okay. That’s good, right?”
“No. He cut all my hours for the next two weeks. He wants me to be the marketing director, but I don’t want to!”
I cringed when I realized how loud my voice got toward the end of my sentence. Especially when a loud cry sounded from the other room.
