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Hudson gulped. “In that case, bring that box of pastries quick, or I’ll never get out of here.”
“See?” I said. “If you were a grumpy bastard like me, you wouldn’t have this problem.” Hudson was too charming for his own good, and the local little old ladies had been known to clog their own sinks just so they’d have a reason to call him to come over.
Hudson peered out the window. “Oh shit. Is that a town car pulling into the lot?” He motioned frantically. “Hurry up, Carmen, or you’re on your own.”
She rushed into the back and returned seconds later, holding one large box and another smaller one on top, tied with a ribbon.
“Aww… is that one for me?” Hudson took the boxes.
“No, and you’d better not touch it. It’s for Wes. Last time I sent treats, he was in court and didn’t get any pastries.” Wes was my and Hudson’s friend and an honorary member of the family.
Hudson stopped midstride on his way to the door and turned around slowly with a grin. “So, what you’re saying is the pigs were pigs?”
I hung my head. “That is so wrong, man.” Despite that, I chuckled.
Carmen gazed past Hudson to the parking lot. “Oh, look. It’s Mrs. Sullivan.”
“I’m out.” Hudson scrambled out the front door and into his truck then peeled out of the parking lot in record time.
“Do you want coffee?” Carmen asked.
I considered. “Yeah, might as well. I’m not going back to sleep. If you see Declan before I do, tell him he’s on my shit list.”
“So, what else is new?” Carmen dumped two heaping spoonfuls of sugar into a cup before dousing it with coffee, just the way I liked it. “Next time, call me. I can run over and sign the paperwork for you.”
I shook my head. “Thanks for the offer, but you’re running a business. Like you told Hudson, you can’t just step out. Anyway, I’m hoping there won’t be a next time.”
She laughed. “Are you planning to hire someone else?”
“Is Maddie available?”
She leaned close. “That’s a hell no,” she said, keeping her voice low so the old ladies who were walking through the door wouldn’t have to clutch their pearls on account of her language. “Don’t you dare try to steal her from me.”
I held my coffee and stood. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” But I might have tried it if I thought craft beer would lure any of my sisters away from their beloved coffee. Good help was hard to find, especially considering the seasonal nature of the business.
I turned to leave. One of the book clubber’s faces lit up when she saw me then dimmed a little as I got closer and she realized I wasn’t Hudson.
“Good morning, ma’am.”
She smiled thinly, not impressed by my attempt at niceties. I might be the town grump, but at least that meant I didn’t get stuck pulling God-knows-what out of old ladies’ drains.
***
Claire
I HEFTED Asecond massive suitcase into the back of my sister’s Land Rover. She glanced back at me in the rearview mirror. “Is that all?”
If anyone else had asked that question, I would have thought they were being facetious. Still, her question made me have a moment of panic that I’d forgotten something important. I didn’t used to get anxiety when deciding what to bring on a work trip, but I also had no experience being a representative for my brother-in-law’s company. He’d given me the position out of pity, and I was determined to prove I was more than capable.
I climbed into the passenger seat and buckled in. “I hope so.”
Ten minutes later, my heart rate had spiked into the aerobic zone from the stress of several narrowly avoided collisions. I gripped the armrest as my sister nearly drove another car off the road.
“Oops, my bad.” She waved at the other driver, who gave her a much different kind of wave back. Stephanie frowned. “That was rude.”
Barely five minutes into the trip, I was already wondering if I’d made a mistake taking my sister up on her offer to drive. I was broke, in debt up to my eyeballs, and living in her and her husband’s guesthouse, so I hadn’t felt like I had the right to object when Stephanie wanted to turn the work trip into a road trip for the two of us. Too bad I’d forgotten Stephanie drove like a socialite housewife tanked up on mimosas, which was what she was most mornings.
I eyed her. “Did you have breakfast?”
