“I can’t disagree,” I say. “I may be studying to be a sommelier, but I live pretty frugally back home in LA. Burgers are sometimes a luxury.”
“Oh?”
Crap. I’ve just opened the door into my life in Cali, including my childhood. Something I didn’t mean to do.
I choose to laugh it off. “Oh, you know. I’ve been a starving student for nearly eight years now.”
“I get it. When I first moved out of my parents’ house, I ate my share of ramen.”
“Haven’t you always had a job here?” I ask.
“Of course, but this is a small town. Tending bar isn’t exactly lucrative, and I didn’t do it full-time while my father was in charge. He and my mom couldn’t afford college, so I was on my own, and with student loan payments and all… You know the drill.”
Indeed I do. Except for the loan payments. Because my mother and I had basically nothing, I got most of my college paid for by grants, and I received full scholarships for all my grad school. I don’t want to invite any more inquiries about my past, though, so I simply nod.
Brendan puts the hamburgers on a platter and sets them on his small table, where the Latour already sits.
I gesture to it. “May I?”
“Of course.”
I pick up the bottle. The label is understated, with the red logo showing a lion atop a castle and the lettering in a slightly ornate serif font. “Where did you get this?” I ask.
“I appropriated it from a case my dad got about ten years ago.”
“You appropriated it?”
“Yeah.” He smiles. “But then Dad said I could have it.”
The mention of Brendan’s dad triggers a memory. “Jade told me that your dad had an uncle who died here in Snow Creek.”
“Yeah. At a wedding, of all things.”
I lift my brows. “A wedding?”
He nods. “A wedding at Steel Acres, actually.”
My heart plummets to my stomach. When Jade spoke of her beginnings with Talon, she kept mum about certain things.
What kind of secrets is she keeping?
“At the ranch?”
“Yeah. The wedding of Talon’s dad, Brad Steel.”
“Brad Steel. The name is familiar. Oh, yeah. One of Dale’s cousins is named Brad.”
He nods again. “Joe’s kid. Named after his grandpa, I guess.”
“So what happened at the grandfather’s wedding?”
“Man, that was long before my time, and no one talks about it anymore, but basically my great-uncle was Brad Steel’s best man. The way I hear it, he passed out while giving his toast, and he never woke back up.”
Icicles grab at the back of my neck. “What happened? I mean, how did it happen?”
“No one knows. For a while, there were rumors of a drug overdose or poisoning. Like I said, this happened over sixty years ago.”
“Surely there are records.”
“Weirdly enough, there aren’t. I only know what’s been passed down by my family.”
“How old was your uncle?”
“Great-uncle. He was young. Twenty-two or twenty-three.”
Acid churns in my gut. “That’s awful.”
“Yeah. I always wondered why my dad wanted to come here.”
“Why did he?”
“He was trying to figure out what happened. He hit dead end after dead end, but he loved this place, so he stayed and opened up the bar.”
“Did he even know his uncle?”
“That’s just it. He didn’t. But he was named after him, so I guess he felt close to the situation or something.”
I nod. “I guess I get it.”
“Then you’re ahead of me. I don’t get it at all. But I love Snow Creek. My mom’s a local. They met when Dad first got here, so she probably had a hand in why he stayed as well.”
“It is a charming little town.”
“It’s home.”
I nod once more. I could easily hang my hat here.
But I won’t.
I’ll see my internship to its end, but after that, I need to leave.
I need to get away from Dale Steel.
And then a lightbulb shines above me. Brendan and Dale went to school together. They’re the same age. Maybe Brendan has some insight.
I clear my throat. “Jade tells me you and Dale went to school together.”
“We did.”
“So…are you friends?”
He pauses a moment, wrinkling his forehead. “That’s an interesting question.”
“It’s a yes or no question,” I counter.
“For most people, yeah, it is. For Dale?” He sighs. “It’s kind of hard to answer.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not sure Dale has friends.”
“What do you mean by that? Is he not friendly?”
“No, he’s perfectly friendly. He’s a good guy. He’s just… I’m not sure I can describe it. We hung out sometimes. We had fun. But something doesn’t quite fit. It’s like he’s got a shield around him or something.”
“He doesn’t let people in,” I say, more to myself than to Brendan.
“Yeah. That’s it. And we were in high school, you know? And we were guys. It wasn’t like we had slumber parties and pillow fights.”
“I hate to rain on your parade, but not all high school girls have slumber parties and pillow fights. I think I went to one slumber party in my life, and I’ve never been in a pillow fight.”