Page 45 of Don't Fall For Your Best Friend

“Let’s get started.” I nod for them to follow me. “This is our bartender, Trudi.”

After introductions, Trudi tells them she’ll send over samples after the tour. We continue on and I explain the history of Atta Boy and how it’s a family-run brewery. We make our way downstairs, as I show them how the walls of the building were finished with old beer barrels. Giving the place a nice rustic-woodsy vibe.

Once downstairs, I show them the whole process of how we make the beer.

“This here is the malted barley we use to start the brewing process,” I say, showing them the small grain. “There’s many steps to brewing beer, and I’ll show you around. If you have any questions you can always ask.” I continue showing them around, telling them the process of how we brew our beer.

“This room is the freezer,” I say, leading them toward a big door in the back. “We’ve named it Hercules.”

“How cool,” Tara says as we step inside.

“Beer ferments here for roughly six-to-eight weeks, give or take. Did you want to try some of the beer right from the tank?” I ask them both.

They both shrug and look at each other until Mark speaks up and says, “Sure.”

I grab a pigtail, which is a device that lets me basically tap the ‘keg’ and pull beer right from the tank. I get some clear cups nearby, and pour all three of us a taste. “This is the Puppy Politics Pilsner,” I say, thinking about how it’s Hartford’s favorite.

“That’s really good,” Tara says, drinking the rest of her beer in her cup. “What are the names on each tank?”

I smile as I read the name, ‘Sanders.’ “They’re the Minor League baseball players from the Magnolia Beetles.”

“How interesting,” Mark says, finishing off his sample.

“I’m freezing,” Tara says, walking toward the door, and I open it for them so we can head back out into the main area.

I give them the background on the building, our family, and the way things are run.

Mark seems more than impressed, and his wife is loving everything she sees and hears. It makes me feel proud.

For the first time in a while, I feel like myself. I’m focused on work and not my best friend and her incredible body. I feel in control and ready to land this important deal.

Chapter Fifteen

Hartford

Sleeping in Paxton’s bed last night was a nightmare. A complete nightmare. Even though I was exhausted, I kept waking up every hour, practically on the hour. I felt like I couldn’t breathe because Paxton was sucking all the air out of the room. I felt like I needed to tell him the exact reason I set my house on fire.

My cheeks blush. I could never do that.

I rush down the hall at work, trying my best to go unnoticed by my boss. I zip past his door, but hear him call my name.

Ugh.

I backtrack and stand in his doorway.

“Mr. Charleston, what’s up?” I try my best to look casual. Like a woman who has her shit together, even though I don’t.

“I’d like to see your notes for your article.”

“Sure thing.” I force a smile. Keep the confidence up. Don’t let the mask of confidence slip.

“Email me them this afternoon.”

“Yes, sir,” I say, giving a firm nod.

He twists his face as he studies me. “Everything okay?”

I slump against the doorframe and tell him about the fire. He’s genuinely concerned and offers to help in any way he can.