Finding Sunshine (26 page)

Father O’Neill, on the other hand, has honey colored blond hair, watery blue eyes, a stockier build than Franklin, and his oval-shaped face is full of lightness. He’s wearing black pants and a black short-sleeved dress shirt with the white cardboard collar around his throat. If I hadn’t already known he was priest, that was a dead giveaway.

“Franklin,” Aaron greets him, standing and shaking hands with both. “You remember my Nina?”

“How could we forget?” Franklin gives me a warm half-smile.

“It’s good to see you again,” Father O’Neill says brightly, coming forward and shaking my hand.

“Hi,” I manage to squeak out in embarrassment, standing up and leaning into Aaron’s side.

“Joey, why don’t you grab us our coffee?” Franklin addresses Father O’Neill, reaching into his pocket and handing him several bills. “Do you two want anything else?”

“Do you want more cookies, Sunshine?”

“No, thank you.” I sit back down and reach for my own coffee.

“I’ll be right back.” Father O’Neill smiles brightly at Franklin. For the first time I notice the dimple on his left cheek.

As Father O’Neill joins the line, I watch as he begins to chat animatedly with the woman in front of him.

“I didn’t know you were coming to town,” Franklin says, making himself comfortable in a chair opposite us.

“We just arrived last night,” Aaron answers, wrapping his arm around the back of my chair.

“Franklin,” says an authoritative voice, making us all look up and over towards a uniformed cop who is just entering the coffee shop.

“Tommy. Are you and your family coming tonight?”

“And miss the free beer?” The cop smiles, his blue eyes sparkling and his entire face brightening, making him extremely handsome—
if you like that sort of thing
. “I’ll be over once my shift ends. Good craft beer is one thing I’ll miss when I leave for Orlando next month.”

“I’m sorry, Aaron and Nina, this is Tom Allen,” Franklin says, turning to introduce us. “We’re trying to convince Aaron that he should come up from Boston and manage the new pub for us.”

Just then Father O’Neill rejoins the table, setting Franklin’s coffee in front of him, along with a small paper bag and his change.

“Tom, how are you?” Father O’Neill asks him, taking a seat next to Franklin.

“Good. Well, I’d better grab my coffee and donut quickly so I can get back to patrolling the mean streets of Pinetree,” he says with a teasing grin. Then turning more seriously says, “Joey, try to keep Franklin out of trouble.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Nice meeting you both. Enjoy your visit,” Officer Allen says to Aaron and I with a smile, lifting his chin to us as he turns and heads towards the counter.

“My brother’s having a tasting this afternoon. You two should come over to the pub and I can show you around,” Franklin addresses us, opening his paper bag and pulling out a cinnamon roll. “My favorite, thank you.”

“I was going to call you tonight and set up a meeting with your father tomorrow,” Aaron says, sipping his coffee.

“But tomorrow’s Sunday,” Franklin says, looking confused. “We don’t do business on Sundays.”

“It’s the day of rest,” Father O’Neill agrees, reaching over and stealing a piece of Franklin’s cinnamon roll.

“Oh.” Aaron mutters, shifting uncomfortably next to me. “We had planned to leave tomorrow night. But maybe we can stay, and I could meet with your father on Monday morning?”

“Why don’t you two just come to the brewery later this afternoon. I’m sure my father would be willing to talk to you then.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Franklin says, breaking off a piece of his cinnamon roll and sipping his coffee. “I’ll give you a tour of the brewery and pub while you’re there. And I’ll be able to introduce you to some of the locals.”

“That sounds great,” Aaron agrees with a smile as he tugs gently on several of my curls.

“Here, Mrs. Dean, let me help you,” Father O’Neill says, popping up from his chair and opening the door for a woman who’s juggling several drinks and bags.

“Thank you, Father. Have a great day.”

“I will, and you do the same.”

“Do you know everyone in town?” I ask, when he sits back down. Everyone seems so friendly here—
it’s almost a little creepy
.

“Not everyone,” he says with a smile, gifting me another look at his adorable dimple. He reaches over and nabs another bite of Franklin’s cinnamon roll.

“Well, we’d best get going,” Franklin announces, standing up. Father O’Neill quickly follows suit. “I’ll tell my father you’ll be by the brewery later.”

“Thank you.”

“It was great seeing you again,” Father O’Neill smiles down at me.

“You too. Bye,” I say brightly, giving them both a small wave.

Once we have finished our coffee and plotted a route out on the map, Aaron and I’s next stop is a store that only sells products made in Vermont. Walking in, the first display case we see has several shelves of bottles of maple syrup, all in various sizes and shapes. From plastic jugs, to metal tins, and small glass bottles shaped like maple leaves, they all look delicious.

“I’m going to get some for my parents,” I state, picking up a jug off the shelf, then after noticing the price, put it back down and pick up an even smaller one.

“We should get some for Sarah, too.” Aaron says, picking up a similar sized jug and adding it to the basket I’d grabbed when we entered. “I’ll never hear the end of it if we don’t bring her back something.”

“Do you want to get one for Richard and Becca?” I ask, picking up a leaf-shaped bottle.

“You’ve forgiven her?”

“Of course. She was just looking out for you. How can I blame her for being a loyal friend?” I ask, running my hand along his arm.

As angry as I had been by my friend’s betrayal, her decision to keep me in the dark about her and Aaron’s past had nothing to do with me or our friendship.

“I’ve decided, to make it even, Richard and I should sleep together,” I say blandly.

“
Don’t even joke about that
,” Aaron growls in my ear, slapping my bottom. I turn and melt into his body with a soft moan.

“It’s only fair,” I giggle, smiling up into his scowling face.

“You’re
mine
, Sunshine.” He states firmly, taking the now heavy basket from my arms with one hand and capturing my hand with the other. Bringing it to his lips, he kisses is gently.

“And you’re mine,” I affirm, squeezing his hand. Then I stretch up and nip at his jaw playfully.

“Should we get some for Jordan, too?”

I don’t bother responding and just scowl up at him, which only makes him chuckle and kiss my forehead, before leading us further into the store.

I’ve realized that the real blame lies with both Jordan and Aaron. Though I can forgive Aaron, because I truly believe he had every intention of telling me eventually, Jordan acted with malicious jealousy. She had no reason to suspect that he had a dark past, as she barely spent any time with him. Regardless of that, she went looking for something to try and separate us.
That I cannot forgive
.

Once we’re at the counter to make our purchases, I see a display of homemade dog treats and insist that we buy something for Russell.

“He’ll probably eat it in one bite,” Aaron argues, adding it to our pile.

“But he’ll enjoy it.”

Our last stop is a cute little gift shop, which is jam-packed with anything and everything Vermont related—mugs, calendars, key chains, and shot glasses—as well as an impressive collection of John Deere merchandise.
Who knew they sold more than tractors!
After purchasing Harry a stuffed John Deer tractor, we decide to have lunch at the diner,
Champ’s
, that we had seen on the map.

Champ’s
is your typical, 1950’s-style diner, although it appears very well kept. There are blue Naugahyde booths, chrome tabletops, and a long Formica counter. A large cartooned sea monster is painted as a border along the top of one wall. We take our time having a leisurely lunch. Once we’re stuffed full of locally sourced buffalo burgers and French fries, we decide to walk back to the inn and drop off our multitude of purchases before heading over to the brewery.

It has been wonderful spending the day with Aaron, exploring the town and enjoying the beautiful weather. So far, I love what I’ve seen of Pinetree, and am looking forward to driving around the area tomorrow. The views are picturesque, the people are friendly—
almost creepily so
—and there is an artsy vibe I’m really enjoying. I could definitely see myself being happy here.

With Aaron
.

~ Aaron ~

“Masters. Frankie said you were stopping by.” I hear a voice address me not long after Nina and I enter the pub. Looking up, I see Teddy striding over to us. “The party’s just about to get started.”

“Teddy, you remember my Nina?” I greet, shaking his hand.

“Of course. How are you, little mama?”

“Hi,” she says, blushing—no doubt remembering the first time they met. When she was adorably drunk and wanting to be spanked.
I don’t think she or I will ever live that down.

“Teddy Bear, go help Dad empty the car,” an older, African-American woman calls out from the door, carrying a plate over to a makeshift table in the corner. Her voice is slightly accented and carries a pleasant singsong quality—almost Caribbean.

“Teddy Bear?
” I chuckle under my breath. Looking down, I see that Nina has a similar smirk on her face at the surprisingly tender endearment.

“Mama, come meet some friends of Frankie and I from Boston,” he says, waving her over and draping his arm around her shoulders once she is standing next to him. “This is Aaron, and Nina.”

“Hello. I’m Teddy’s mama, Tara,” she says, smiling brightly at us. Teddy’s mom has a tall, slim figure, and her short, gray buzz cut accentuates her long neck. She seems elegant now, but I can tell that she had to have been really attractive when she was younger.

“A little help here, son,” a booming voice calls from the doorway. Standing there, juggling several boxes, is a replica of Teddy—except that he is fair-skinned, freckled, and a ginger.

Teddy kisses his mom’s temple and gives her a squeeze before heading over to take one of the boxes from his father. I chuckle inwardly at the image of an enforcer who loves his mom so much. The more I get to know Franklin and Teddy, the more I actually like them.

“Excuse me, I need to go make sure my boys don’t ruin my pies.” Tara tells us with a smile, joining Teddy and his father after instructing them where to place the boxes.

Looking around for the first time, I notice that the entire pub has been gutted from floor to ceiling. A lot of work would need to be done here, but it’s potential is clear for all to see. I can imagine it having a relaxed yet cultured atmosphere, one reflecting the town itself. I’m jolted from my meandering thoughts when I spot Franklin on the other side of the room, walking towards us.

“Good you’re here,” Franklin says, greeting us enthusiastically. “Let’s get you two something to drink, and then I’ll take you on a quick tour before we find Dad.”

“Sounds good.” I take Nina’s hand, and we follow him.

“David’s really outdone himself. He’s got three different varieties on tap,” Franklin says, when we arrive at the makeshift bar.

Once we’re all holding small tasting glasses, we head outside to begin the tour at the latest addition to the property—the brewery. While walking us around the building, Franklin admits that this tour would be better coming from David, because he knows next to nothing about what all of the new, gleaming, and expensive-looking equipment does. His brother, however, is busy making the rounds and giving interviews to the local press.

“Solar power is really gaining popularity in the area. We’ve installed solar panels on all of the buildings, and hope to generate the majority of our power consumption,” Franklin says, pointing up to the roof, where the large panels can be prominently seen.
Impressive.

Next, we go back to the pub and are taken around the upstairs offices. Like the downstairs area, they have been gutted as well, and the smell of new paint and carpeting still hangs in the air. Franklin’s accounting firm has a sleek suite of offices here, complete with a waiting area containing leather couches, low tables, and a receptionist’s desk.

We make our way towards the dimly lit basement and see the storage area. There is a collection of file boxes, old furniture, and other antique-looking junk.

“We saved any of the old décor that was in good condition, in case we want to incorporate some of it into the new look.” Franklin explains, lifting up several dusty signs and showing them to Nina. One is an old and battered wooden plank that reads,
Sauvageaux Tavern
, no doubt a remnant of the building’s former life.

Our next and final stop is the completely empty kitchen and office, just off the pub’s main floor. The office has several folding chairs inside, but little else, aside from a large box of royal blue,
Royal’s Pub and Brewery
t-shirts. Franklin insists we each take one.

“Would you like anything to eat? We’ve got pizza, Chinese, and Tara brought over some of her delicious apple pies,” Franklin says as we make our way back out into the pub.

“That sounds like an interesting combination,” Nina giggles, mirroring my thoughts.

“My uncle, Leo, and his family own
The Fortunate Slice
, which is a hybrid pizza and Chinese restaurant,” Franklin explains. “Let me go find my father, so you can meet. I’ll be right back.”

Franklin turns and disappears into the growing crowd. The tasting seems to have a really good turnout so far.

“Are you having fun?” I turn and ask Nina, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her into my body. “We’ll leave once my meeting is over.”

Coming here on business isn’t exactly what I had planned for our romantic Saturday. I had really meant to meet up with Mr. Royal tomorrow, possibly leaving Nina at the inn’s spa so she wouldn’t be bored.

“Aaron,” she mutters, shaking her head and wrapping an arm around my waist. “It’s just as important for me to see where you’d be working, and to get to know the people we’d be spending time with. We’re in this together, right?”

“Of course we are, Sunshine.”

“Masters, this is my father, Paul Royal.” Franklin says suddenly, rejoining us with a silver haired and immaculately dressed man following him.

“Hello, sir. It's nice to meet you,” I say, reaching out to shake his hand.

“Mr. Masters, it's a pleasure to finally meet you,” he says brightly, returning the shake. “And who is this lovely young lady?”

“This is my girlfriend, Nina King.”

“Hello, sir,” Nina says. With a bright smile, she shakes his hand politely.

“Good afternoon, my dear. Is this your first time to Pinetree?”

“Yes, it is.”

“What do you think so far?”

“It's wonderful. We’ve only been here a day, but I love it so far, especially the covered bridges. For some reason,” Nina ends with a small laugh and a wink at me.

“Do you know the reason behind the covered bridges?” he asks her with a knowing smile.

“No, what is it?” Nina asks, intrigued. Her thirst for knowledge is one of the many things I love about her.

“They are relics from the old days, back when people used horse drawn carriages. Horses don’t like crossing over water, but with the bridge being covered, the horses wouldn’t be able to see the water they were walking over.”

“Really? I’m a photographer, and I just thought they were a very dynamic subject.”

“There are quite a few in the area—you’ll have to get
this
guy to take you on a driving tour of them.” Mr. Royal turns and gives me a fatherly look, telling me that I should do whatever it took to make Nina happy—w
hich I already would
. This entire weekend is about spoiling my woman and making her feel special.

“The inn has a map with a self-guided tour you could take—maybe I’ll be able to talk Aaron into doing that tomorrow when we drive around.” She looks up at me with a coy smile. I chuckle and pull her in closer, giving her temple a quick kiss.

All Nina has to do is smile and she gets her way—spoiled, just like my woman should be.

“I'm glad you’re enjoying your stay.” Mr. Royal says with a laugh, and then looking at me, says, “Shall we go into the back office for a quick chat?”

“Of course,” I answer. “You'll be okay on your own for a bit, Sunshine?”

“Joey!” Franklin calls out loudly. A man several yards away turns and then begins walking in our direction.

“Franklin, some manners, please,” his father admonishes.

“You bellowed?” the man asks, and I almost don’t recognize Father O’Neill. Like most everyone else here, he is now wearing a bright blue
Royal’s
t-shirt.

“Would you mind keeping Nina company and introducing her around while Dad and I have a quick chat with Aaron?” Franklin asks him.

“Not at all,” Father O’Neill replies brightly.

“Thank you,” I tell him, wondering for the second time today why he happily does Franklin’s bidding, like some obsessed groupie.
Weren’t priests only supposed to be fanboys for God?

“Son, please go find your brother and meet us in the office.”

“Sure, I’ll go tear him away from his fermenter,” Franklin intones. “Should I find Teddy, too?”

“No, this doesn’t concern him.”

Franklin scowls slightly, but then turns and walks away without further comment.

I quickly kiss Nina, before following Mr. Royal into the office. Once inside, we both take a seat on the rickety old folding chairs, which I’m afraid might collapse under my weight.

“You should get to know my son, David,” Mr. Royal begins. “I’ve given him the capital to start the brewery, and he’ll either succeed or fail—it is up to him. Although, he’s probably too stubborn to let the latter happen. David’s always been a creative and sensitive boy—like his mother was,” he says wistfully, reminding me that I’d heard his wife had died not long ago. “Now, I don’t want you thinking my boy’s a sissy. He’s spilled more than a few drops of blood for the family,” Mr. Royal states with fatherly pride. “I have just always known that Franklin would take over for me one day, with that damn analytical and cunning mind of his. It doesn’t hurt that people always underestimate him, which is usually their first and last mistake,” he says, ending on a humorless laugh.

“My dad always told me never to underestimate anyone,” I say with a smile.

“Sounds like he was a very smart man.”

“In most instances, he really was,” I reply.

When it came to personal finances, however, he sucked.

The door opens then and Franklin walks in, stating, “David’s coming, once he’s put out the new kegs.”

Taking a chair that’s resting against the wall, he unfolds it, but before sitting down asks again, “Are you sure I shouldn’t drag Teddy away from Tara’s pies?”

“No, we both know that Ronin won’t be working for the family forever. He has his own concerns,” Mr. Royal states ominously.

Franklin, seemingly appeased by the answer, opens up his chair and sits down next to his father.

“Ronin?” I ask, confused.
Who the fuck is Ronin?

“Dad refuses to use Teddy’s nickname,” Franklin informs me, shaking his head in annoyance. “His real name is Ronin O’Connell the fourth.”

How the hell do you get ‘Teddy’ from that?

“His father, my cousin, continued the family tradition of naming his son Ronin, if only to spite his own father, who was a real son of a bitch. If it had been me, I would’ve burned down every last tree in that orchard the day his father died, but that’s a story for another time,” Mr. Royal informs me.

“If he had, there’d be no apples left for hard cider,” Franklin states. “Dad’s been trying to convince him to start pressing cider, so we can offer it at the pub as well.”

“Alas, we aren’t here to discuss my cousin or his stubborn family. Rather, Mr. Master’s role in our new enterprise,” Mr. Royal redirects the conversation.

“What would you expect me to do, exactly? I mean no disrespect, sir, but I stayed out of the business at
The Pint
for a reason. And now I’ve got an ever better reason not to end back up inside.”

I’m not fucking risking my relationship with Nina for anything!

“As I’m sure Franklin has told you, this venture is to be kept outside of the Sauvageaux Group’s activities. It will be strictly a family business for my sons. As we discussed earlier, David was given the capital for the brewery, and Franklin here will oversee this building, along with the pub.”

Good. This opportunity is sounding better and better.

“That’s where you come in,” Franklin says. “Renting out office space and managing that part of the business is one thing, but I know nothing about the food and beverage industry. The pub needs someone competent to set it all up, and we’re hoping will also stay on as manager.”

“So I would be working directly under you, Franklin, but also collaborating with David?” I ask for clarification, wanting to know exactly whom I would be working for and with. I don’t take kindly to surprises in the workplace.

“Yes. Franklin, for all intents and purposes, will own the pub. However, it is really meant as a showcase to help promote David’s beers. So, you would be working with him when it comes to tastings, brewery tours, and things of that nature,” Mr. Royal informs me.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” A man, who I assume is David, walks into the room. He’s shorter and stalkier than Franklin, with fairer skin and hair, but the green eyes are the same. “You must be Aaron, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’m David.”