And Then He Kissed Me (27 page)

“But it’s so good,” Audrey said, draining the rest of her glass.

“I just wish I could do it more often. Make craft beer, I mean. I’d make all kinds of seasonal ales. A White Pine winter ale with nutmeg and cloves, for example. Or a summer shandy with lemons and maybe a hint of lavender from Cleve Ferber’s farm. That is, if the lavender worked. I’m not sure it would.”

Audrey smiled at Dave’s excitement. Even in the dimly lit space, she could see warm color on his cheeks and happiness crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“All I’m saying,” Dave continued, “is that I went with the crowds, partied my ass off, barely graduated high school, and now look at me. Bartender at the Wheelhouse. But you figured out how to go your own way early on. Or, at least, you stayed true to you.”

Audrey caught a glimpse of herself in the bar’s mirror. “I don’t know if that’s exactly right. I think maybe I’m evolving. Like maybe I was one thing for a while, and now I’m ready to try something different.”

Dave got up and went back around the bar to pour Audrey another glass. He set it in front of her.

“You have the guts to try and figure it out, Audrey. And that’s what’s so amazing. How many people in this town would have the courage to even attempt something like a gig at a Harley dealership after their career imploded? That’s what I noticed when you came in the other night. It wasn’t just that you looked good—I mean, you did, you
do
—but the more impressive thing was that you’d been brave enough to try something new, to do your own thing yet again. It’s admirable.”

Audrey stared at the bubbles in her beer. “Thank you,” she said, feeling completely overwhelmed by Dave’s words.

“I’m saying all this hoping we can be friends,” Dave said, wiping the bar distractedly. “I know you like that guy you were with the other night. Obviously you do, or you wouldn’t be in here. I just didn’t want you thinking any of what I was saying was connected to an ulterior motive. It’s not.”

“I appreciate that,” Audrey replied. “I could use more friends.” She said it thinking about Casey, and what she’d do if her sister had been lying to her for the past five years. Would she still want Casey in her life? And if not, how would she fill the gap? Her head ached at the thought.

“For what it’s worth,” she pressed on, lifting her beer and staring at the glass, “I think this town could use a craft brewery. This stuff is good, Dave. Really good. Betty Sondheim could help you if you wanted to talk about a possible business plan. She’s really amazing with that kind of thing.”

“Isn’t that Betty Lindholm, from high school?” When Audrey nodded, Dave shuddered. “No way. She scares me.”

Audrey laughed. “She scares all of us a little. But she’s solid. A real friend.”

Just then, the door to the bar opened, letting in a sliver of light and a blast of fresh air. A cluster of well-dressed men entered, seating themselves in a booth by the jukebox.

“Ah, the lunch rush,” Dave said, grabbing a handful of menus. “And by rush I mean trickle. More of a drip, really.”

Audrey giggled. Dave placed one of the menus in front of her. “You eat something, too,” he said. “And when you’re ready, I’ll call you a cab.”

“But—”

“It’s nonnegotiable. Sorry. I can’t have my asparagus beer get you in any trouble.”

Audrey thought about Kieran, about Casey, about tomorrow’s Asparagus Queen pageant. “I feel like I’m already in trouble.”

“
More
trouble, then,” Dave said, winking. He walked over to wait on the lunch table while Audrey studied the menu. She decided on cheese curds and another beer.

She fully expected her pants to pop wide open before the end of it, and she barely even cared.

*  *  *

She was dying.

No, Audrey realized, she was dead. She was deceased and this was hell, and for all of eternity she’d be punished with this sour taste in her mouth and this sound of six fire trucks blaring through her head.

Where were all these engines coming from, anyway? She struggled to think, struggled to remember where she was. Her brain was sludge-filled and her whole body was rejecting every single movement.

She unstuck one eye. Daylight scorched her vision and she groaned. Slowly, she tried again, opening her eyes a millimeter at a time, until she could see without so much pain. Eventually, she began to glimpse her own curtains. Which meant the engine noises reverberating everywhere were probably her alarm clock.

She reached out, fumbling for the damn thing, trying to find the snooze button. When silence fell, she sighed, relieved.

Until her eyes were fully open and she grasped what time it was.

She sat bolt upright.
Cripes, how many times had she hit snooze?

It was after eleven o’clock, and she was due at the Paul Bunyan Diner by noon. And she still had to get ready for the pageant.

“Shit,” Audrey muttered, stumbling out of bed to the bathroom. Aspirin first. Water second.

I will never drink asparagus beer again,
she thought as she uncapped her bottle of aspirin and tapped out three. Dimly she could remember hanging out at the Wheelhouse for hours—drinking, eating cheese curds, talking with Dave, and chatting with random folks, some strangers, some acquaintances, who peppered the bar throughout the day.

Sometime in the evening, Dave had called her a taxi (or
the
taxi, more accurately, since White Pine only had one) and she’d been shuttled home. She figured she went to bed at that point, and had sunk into a drunken oblivion.

Audrey padded from her bathroom to her kitchen, then stopped short. There was an empty wine bottle on the counter and one glass. She closed her eyes.

She hadn’t gone to bed. She’d kept drinking.

She cringed when she noticed there were cookbooks scattered everywhere, open to random pages. She could dimly recall wanting to help Dave find new beer recipes. She flushed with embarrassment as she realized she’d scribbled down new ale ideas. They were scrawled on a notepad next to the empty wine bottle:

APpLe CHesTNuT

CUcuMbeR TUrMeriC oAtMeAL

FrIEd OrEo cHeDDaR

Audrey swallowed back both nausea and mortification.
Fried Oreo cheddar?
For a beer? Good God, she
had
been hammered.

Suddenly, her body flushed with adrenaline and her mind sharpened to an uncomfortable point. Had she texted Dave any of this? Her head still pounding, she groped for her phone, eventually finding it in the bottom of her purse. It had been shut off, thankfully.

Dave,
she thought. He’d saved her from herself.

He really was a friend.

She turned the phone back on, swallowed the aspirin, and began the painful process of getting ready for the pageant with a massive hangover. At eleven fifty-five, she had squeezed her bloated, aching self into Willa’s dress, donned her shabby (albeit recently repaired) heels, and teetered down her sidewalk wearing sunglasses that barely helped dim the glare in her eyes and head. She pulled out the keys to her car, only to stop short.

She
had
no car. It was still at the Wheelhouse.

“Shit!” she cried. Then she clasped her hand over her mouth. The neighbor’s kids were out in their front yard. They’d stopped playing to gape at her, their eyes round with surprise.

She didn’t even bother saying sorry. Reaching into her purse, she grabbed her phone yet again and dialed the other person she knew was headed exactly where she was going.

Kieran answered on the third ring.

“Can you pick me up?” Audrey asked. “I need a ride to the diner.”

Ten minutes later, with chaps on under her dress (it was the only thing Audrey could think of to satisfy Kieran’s demand that she wear long pants) and Kieran’s helmet crushing what little volume she’d been able to tease into her hair, the two roared over the Birch River and down Main Street, on their way to meet Casey.

*  *  *

“Wait, Audrey—please,” Kieran begged as they walked from the parking lot to the front entrance of the Paul Bunyan Diner. Kieran reached out and grabbed Audrey’s arm, even though the last thing she looked like she wanted was for anyone, especially him, to touch her. “Just…
take
a second.”

To his relief, Audrey stopped. Kieran wanted to straighten the crumpled, sparkling dress clinging to her body at odd angles. He wanted to wipe away the errant mascara underneath her eyes, and smooth the ends of her wind-blown hair. She’d taken off her sunglasses and now her brown eyes were roving with a manic exhaustion.

She was hungover, there was no doubt. But there was something else, too. Kieran’s jaw clenched with the realization that Audrey Tanner was afraid. The strongest woman he knew was barely holding it together as she prepared to face her sister—and him. Together.

He wanted to pull her to him and kiss away her fears. He wanted to reassure her that it would be all right, that he would always be there for her. It was of no comfort to him that the woman he cared for most in the world was about to find out the truth about what he and her sister had done. It would hardly acquit him, and it might crush Audrey.

Frankly, she looked half crushed already.

He saw Audrey take a deep breath. She smoothed down her dress, which helped a bit, but not much. “All right,” she said, and more light came into her eyes. Kieran was relieved to see it, even if it was a small victory. “We’re already late. Let’s go.”

She walked ahead of him and he followed, clenching his fists. He felt like he was going into the ring and this was going to be the fight of his life.

C
HAPTER
TWENTY
-
ONE

H
er stomach roiling, Audrey reached out and grasped Kieran’s arm for support. She didn’t want to enter the diner like this—unsteady in her glittering dress and clutching Kieran Callaghan—but in this case she had no choice. It was either that or topple over.

As the pair entered the diner, Audrey hoped it was her imagination that the clank of silverware and the murmur of conversation dropped off. What wasn’t her imagination, however, was the picture of Casey’s mortified face from a nearby booth—her open “O” of a mouth, and her eyes glazed with shock.

Lifting her chin, Audrey forced a smile and headed over. Kieran followed next to her, propping her up.

Audrey’s smile vanished when she realized Casey wasn’t alone. There was a man in the booth with her, wearing a smart charcoal suit and an asparagus-green tie. He looked up and his eyes visibly widened. Nevertheless, he stood to greet her.

Audrey glanced quizzically at her sister. Casey’s face had gone bleach white and her hands were trembling. “Audrey,” she managed to croak, “this is Kyle Williams, the principal at Eagan High School. Kyle, this is my sister, Audrey Tanner.”

“Hello, Audrey,” Kyle said politely. Nausea crested in the back of her throat. Audrey reached out to take Kyle’s hand.

“P—pleased to meet you,” she managed.

Casey looked like she was either going to faint or erupt. “I told Audrey you were coming
when we chatted on the phone last Thursday
,” Casey said through clenched teeth. “Perhaps she forgot.”

Audrey’s stomach sank. Last Thursday. The conversation at the county offices. The one where she’d barely been listening.

“I’m Kieran Callaghan,” came the deep voice from beside her. Audrey turned, grateful for the distraction. The two men shook hands.

“He’s a friend,” Audrey said quickly. “He’s…ah, helping me today. I’m entering the Asparagus Queen pageant. Thus, the dress.”

“Oh, I see,” Kyle said. Audrey noted he was in his fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair and kind, pale blue eyes. Guilt washed over her.

“I didn’t realize you…that this…” Audrey trailed off. Her foggy, asparagus-beer-coated brain didn’t know what other words to form.

“There’s clearly been a mix-up,” Kieran offered, somewhat unhelpfully. Casey narrowed her eyes at him.

“It’s no problem,” Kyle said graciously. “Perhaps we should just chat a different day then.”

Chat about what?
Audrey wanted to ask. But of course she knew already. Casey had no doubt set up a pre-interview with Kyle to try to lure Audrey away to Eagan, to be their track coach. Never mind that Audrey didn’t know if she wanted the job. Never mind that she’d said as much. It was what
Casey
wanted, so she was pulling strings again.

Just like she did with Kieran.

Audrey fought the idea. She would
not
jump to conclusions.

“Kyle, I’m so sorry,” she said. “My sister had the best of intentions, but I clearly wasn’t tracking on them. I guess I got pretty wrapped up in the Asparagus Queen pageant.”

And I don’t want this job,
she thought, but held her tongue.