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I wanted to be Team Honeybridge now. I wanted to be Team Flynn.
As I’d packed and stacked boxes earlier, I’d realized that I needed to take the advice I’d handed Reagan the other day—to stop worrying about how other people measured success and decide whatIwanted… then get it.
Flynn would probably tell me that was the most Wellbridge idea he’d ever heard… and he’d be right. But I was finally ready to embrace my inner Wellbridge.
“I’m not sureexactlywhat the future is going to look like,” I told Alice finally. “But I’ve got an idea.”
“I’d back your ideas any day of the week, Rainmaker,” Alice said promptly.
I laughed. “It’s really great to hear you say that because I’m going to need your help. How would you feel about hopping a flight to Brew Fest after all so we can discuss some things in person?”
“Hot damn! Will I get to meet your mysterious mead maker?”
“I fucking hope so,” I said fervently. More than that, I really hoped Flynn was still mine.
“Are we planning to pillage the prospective clients at Brew Fest and sign Fortress so much new business that you’ll be Conrad Schaeffer’s new boss?” she demanded eagerly.
“No. Not at all. Here’s what I’m thinking…”
* * *
Several hours later, I fell into a booth at the hotel bar. My shoulders and back ached from all the heavy lifting and carrying, but I was proud of the work we’d done getting Honeybridge Mead’s booth set up. It looked amazing.
“I’ll take a glass of Chablis, thanks,” my mother murmured at the server who stopped to take our order. “Oh, and might you offer any kind of… amuse-bouche while we’re perusing the menu? I passed peckish quite a while ago.”
The guy blinked at her before flicking his eyes to me. “We’ve got potato skins. Is that what you mean?”
Mother’s mouth opened, but I cut her off before she could offend anyone else today. “Yes, perfect. Thanks. I’ll take a giant glass of ice water and an Allagash White if you have it. If not, surprise me with another local brew.”
Once he was gone, my mother smoothed her hair down and sighed. “Must you be so… plebeian? Beer? How gauche.”
I shot her a look. “I’m surprised that guy knew what Chablis even was. No one has used that term since the last century. You might try ordering a chardonnay next time.”
She sniffed and pointed her nose at the large, laminated menu. “And risk getting served a California wine? I don’t think so.”
I studied her unruly hair. After blowing it dry herself while I was busy loading the final truck at the Tavern, she’d looked like her usual self. But then the long drive in the convertible, followed by hours of ordering the rest of us around in a stuffy expo hall, had turned her perfect coif into a mess of curls.
“I like your hair like that,” I said. “You should wear it curly more often.”
Her sculpted eyebrows lifted, and her hand went to her hair again. “Really? You think so? Your father always preferred it straight.”
It was strange to think of my father even noticing my mother’s looks. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d paid attention to anything other than his political ambitions. To be fair, those political ambitions were as much my mother’s as his own. Still, it made me sad to think she’d been keeping herself a certain way all these years for someone who didn’t seem to notice or care.
I thought of Flynn sitting across the breakfast table from me in thirty or forty years. Would I still notice him? Would I care what his hair looked like or what clothes he wore? Would I still want him?
I snorted softly at my menu.
Was it possible to be in the same room, the same state, the same universe and not notice Flynn?
Not crave his attention?
Not feel like he was the sun in the center of my personal solar system?
And not feel that jittery, heart-thundering sense of deep, deepneed?
“Darling?”A little frown line appeared between my mother’s eyebrows as she peered at me over my menu. “Are you alright? You’re still breathing heavily even though the physical labor ended an hour ago. I think we need to get you in for a cardiac workup with Dr. Aldridge.”
“I… no… I’m not alright. I want to marry Flynn Honeycutt.” I grinned widely and felt the stress fall off my shoulders. “I’m in love with him, and I want tomarry him.”
