Midlife Do Over

You broke her, a voice whispered to me.

“Well it can’t.”

I reached for the bottle and took a long swig, enough to choke on, but I pushed it down. “You really hate me?”

“Not anymore,” she answered honestly. “I spent a lot of time hating you, but it didn’t get me anywhere. So I stopped hating you and just accepted the lessons I’d learned.”

“The lesson being that you can’t trust me?”

“Not just you,” she added nonchalantly, as if that wasn’t the same thing. Pippa sat up and poured another drink before she shoved the bottle across the table to me. “People tell you all kinds of things, mostly things they think you want to hear. Because it’s easier than the truth, easier than saying the hard thing that will certainly hurt you, but that’s hard to face head on. So you’re left to deal with the truth, the real and unvarnished truth, on your own, and the other person never has to face those consequences.”

“You think it wasn’t hard on me too?”

She slammed her glass down so hard I though the whole table might shatter. “I don’t know Ryan, that’s the point. You made your choice, you left without a look back, so you didn’t have to face the consequences of anything. It’s all in the past now and just because you’re back home and bored doesn’t mean that I’m ready to excavate the past just to ease your guilt.” The words came out on a low, angry growl that was a little sexy too. She stood and yanked the bottle from my hands. “Hop my fence again and you’ll find that backside of yours full of buckshot.” With those parting words, Pippa marched inside her house, slammed the door at least twice as hard as was required to secure it shut, and locked it up nice and tight for good measure.

I sat out in her yard for a few minutes longer, and her words stuck with me for the entire night. Pippa didn’t dislike me, no it was much worse than that. She didn’t trust me. Didn’t trust anyone, it sounded like, and that was because of me.

I had even more to make up for than I realized. The problem was that the stubborn woman wouldn’t even give me the time of day, which meant I had to make her give me time.

Chapter 10

Pippa

“Levi, it’s Pippa from Dark Horse.” I smiled into the phone at the man’s deep voice and seemingly pleased chuckle.

“Pippa, I’d recognize that Tennessee twang with a blend of Chicago accent anywhere.” He punctuated the words by making an awful attempt at a so-called Chicago accent. “What can I do for you, ma’am?”

When Levi called me ma’am it didn’t make me feel old, and I smiled even wider. “Well, it seems that your amber and pale ales are quite the hit with our customers. Our stock needs to be replenished as soon as you can manage it.”

“No kidding?” As a new brewery, Levi & Bros was an unknown entity, and every success came as a shock. “That’s great news.”

“Excellent news. Congratulations.” A figure filled the doorway of my office and I didn’t need to look up to know it was Ryan, but my stupid curious brain looked up the moment his scent reached me. “We have a sort of upscale bachelor party at the end of next week. Steak and beer pairings. Think you can get us some stock by then?”

“Before then, if you like.”

I laughed into the phone. “Sooner is always better when it comes to alcohol, I find. As soon as you can get it, we can use it Levi.” I motioned for Ryan to step inside, ignoring the way my heartbeat kicked up a notch at the sight of him in loose fitting jeans and a black t-shirt that hugged him everywhere. Everywhere.

“Thank you, Pippa. Since your opening, interest in our beers has doubled. Anything you need, call me.”

“You’re sweet Levi and one of these days I just might take you up on that offer.” He was a sweetheart, even if he was barely thirty years old and a shameless flirt. “I’ll send over the order form in just a few minutes.”

“I’ll keep an eye out. You take care, Pippa.”

“Will do.” I ended the call and took a look at Ryan, standing in front of my desk with his arms folded, a scowl marring his otherwise handsome face. “What can I do for you, Mr. Gregory?” It was silly, ridiculous even, to keep calling him that, but it got under his skin just enough to make it worth it.

Ryan’s nostrils flared at my question, and he shoved his hands deep in his pocket, a telltale sign he was nervous about something. “We have some business to take care of today. Come on.”

Immediately I pulled up the restaurant calendar, because I’d have damn well remembered a meeting scheduled with Ryan. “What business? There’s nothing on the calendar.”