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Do her best? He finished lacing the tubing for the Westcoast IPA into the growler and slowly began the fill. What sort of party were they headed to? Was bringing beer such a good idea? He shook off the question. She was a grown woman and didn’t need him butting into her business.
After he finished filling the second growler, he wiped them both with a wet cloth, then brought them to her. She had finished her call and was scrolling through her phone when he approached.
“Okay. All set.” He placed the growlers on the counter beside her phone.
“Great.” She clicked her phone off and scooped it from the bar with her hand covering the screen before shoving it into her purse. The pink tint to her cheeks renewed. What had she been looking at?
He tapped the charges into the iPad. “That’s thirty-five seventy-five.”
She pulled out her wallet and dug out a few bills. “Here you go.”
While making change, her phone went off again, and she dug it out again, groaning at whatever message came through.
He handed her the change. “Need a receipt?”
“No. That’s fine. Thanks.” After she tucked her phone into her purse once again, she slung it over her shoulder, then grabbed the growlers from the counter.
He followed her to the door and opened it for her. “Have fun at your party.” He tried to smile, but something about that phone call of hers bothered him.
She gave a weak smile. “I’ll try. Thanks.”
“It’s a party. Having fun shouldn’t take work.”
“Yeah, you’d think. But I don’t know many people yet and the rules and stuff—” She cut herself off, her eyes going wide. It was clear she’d said more than she’d meant to.
“Rules?” The cool night air from the parking lot brushed past him as he continued to hold the door open.
“I mean… it’s just… you know… it’s L.A.” She laughed awkwardly, the comment clearly meant as a distraction.
“New to the city, then?”
Her lips twisted again. “No, not really. Just new to… well, these people.”
He was getting a clearer picture about this party. It wasn’t a pleasant picture.
“Thanks for the beer.” She gave him another smile, then walked through the door into the parking lot.
He let the door close but watched her through the window until she got to her car. The parking lot lamp spotlighted her in a halo while she loaded the growlers into the back seat of the sedan she’d parked next to his Harley. He didn’t take his eyes off her car until she pulled out of the lot and he couldn’t see her anymore.
Stop.None of what was going on with her was his business. If she was going to a play party or munch or whatever the hell it might be, it was none of his concern. If he hadn’t already decided to give up looking in all the wrong places for all the wrong things, he’d make it his business.
But he had decided.
And if a woman wanted to go to a party where she needed to address men she didn’t know as Sir and worry about embarrassing her roommate because she broke rules she didn’t know—that was her right. Besides, she was probably like all the women he knew in that scene, and he’d had enough of them.
A few months ago, he might have asked more questions. But this wasn’t then. This was now.
And he had a tasting room to shut down for the night.
He locked the door and flipped on the neon ‘CLOSED’ sign. The bright red spilled out across the glass, the reflection of the neon glow tinting his hands. Red, a color demanding his actions come to an immediate stop. A universal directive from a previous lifestyle he was in the process of navigating away from. Play dates, party scenes, one-night stands—all part of a past life he was no longer interested in.
Cute L.A. party girl or not, James was done with all of that. Right now, it was time to push those thoughts out of his head and get his ass back to work.
