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“You didn’t seem to mind yesterday.”
“Puh-lease.” She rolled her eyes, but I knew better.
“So seriously, what do we do, just walk around?”
She shook her head. “No, we are waiting for the event coordinator to give us her spiel about cost, capacity, etcetera.” Whitney checked to see if anyone was coming. “But honestly, I don’t think this place is going to work,” she said under her breath.
I took my first look around since I arrived. Cement flooring, long wooden tables with bench seating, the smell of hops in the air. The brewery seemed like a fun place to go and grab a beer, but it didn’t exactly scream gala.
“I see what you mean.” I nodded as an ebony-skinned woman with long blond hair emerged from the back somewhere.
“You must be Whitney,” she said as she approached, hand extended.
After they shook hands, I reached mine out in greeting. “And I’m Jack.”
The young woman bit her lip. “Yes, I know who you are.”
I tried not to grimace. My local celebrity status was more embarrassing than anything.
“I’m Kourtney.” She smiled again.
Whitney looked between us, jaw clenched. “Let’s get started.”
Kourtney immediately snapped to attention and began showing us around. The patio proved to be a great space and I could really imagine hosting an event out there.
“Wouldn’t it be neat if we did something outdoors?” Glancing at the string lights, I could really imagine it looking amazing.
“Jack, this is Ohio. It’s cold AF in November. Sure, it’s fine now that we are in the sun and bundled up, but in a few weeks, it will be even colder. Plus, the event is at night.”
“We could get heaters. Make it a little winter wonderland,” I countered, liking the idea more and more.
“Trust me on this, I’ve coordinated thousands of events. I know what I am doing.” She pushed past me to walk back inside where Kourtney waited for us.
“If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask,” Kourtney said as we made our goodbyes. Then she slipped me her card. When I turned it over, I found her cell phone number written down with a note asking to call her.
I’d be throwing that in the trash immediately after we left. Didn’t want Whitney to get the wrong impression of me.
Whitney and I walked out of the brewery together, huddling between our cars.
“You going to call her?” Whitney asked, nodding at the card.
I flipped it over in my hand.
“I don’t know, should I?” I implored, looking deep into her gorgeous bright brown eyes. They appeared green today, reflecting the color of her fitted blouse.
“Do what you want, Montgomery. You always have.” Whitney opened her car door and made to get in.
I blocked her with my arm. “What do you mean by that?”
Her lips twisted, and I waited for a response.
Realizing I wasn’t going to get one, I sighed. “What’s next?”
Whitney’s brows pulled together.
“I know this isn’t your only stop on the gala venue tour today. Care to tell me where we are going next? Otherwise, I’ll just throw you in the back of the cop car and make you direct me from there.”
Something like heat—or possibly hatred—burned in Whitney’s eyes.
