“I suppose not!” Wallace chuckled.
“Dude, it’s not that funny,” Jamie insisted.
“Oh, come on.” Another slap on the back, but this time, Jamie was ready for it and only had to take the barest step forward. He scowled down at his crossed arms.
“You know what?” Wallace said. “Thanks for cheering me up. But even if I was attracted to you, it wouldn’t be appropriate, since you’re my boss.”
“Well, sure—” Jamie started.
“Even more complicated than my normal love life. But thanks.”
He was all the way across the room before Jamie registered what he’d said. Thanks? “Hey—”
Wallace just gave a friendly wave before he disappeared into the tank room, still chuckling as the door closed behind him.
“What the hell?” Jamie muttered, his skin still hot with embarrassment, though half of his embarrassment was because he wasn’t sure what he was upset about: That he’d just been accused of inviting his brewmaster to come on to him, or that his brewmaster had rejected him out of hand? “Ridiculous,” he scoffed. He was not upset that his nonexistent come-on had been batted away. That was crazy. And he should be glad he wasn’t Wallace’s type. The man dated people who were petite and soft, regardless of gender. Jamie didn’t fall into either of those categories, thank God.
Totally thrown off by the conversation, Jamie turned in a slow circle, unsure, for a moment, why he was standing in the middle of the room with a pencil in his hand.
“Right. Measurements.” Still, he looked around in confusion one more time before turning his attention back to the numbers. He had what he’d come in for, anyway. Now he needed to make some calls about a pizza oven.
Olivia had given him homework, of all things, so he’d given her some, as well. She’d looked more than a little doubtful at the idea of being ready to go to dinner at nine.
“Nine?” she’d pressed. “That’s so…”
“Late?”
“Look, I’ve been out past ten before. You’re being silly.”
“All right. So it’ll be silly. Nine o’clock.”
Silly or not, she’d looked downright worried about it, and that made Jamie smile as he walked down the hallway that led to the brewery offices. He’d volunteered to take the smallest office, since he spent most of his time in the front, but he couldn’t help but feel that it represented his share of the responsibilities, too. Hopefully his office would soon be too small for him, and he could sit in there and complain righteously about the lack of space. Someday. But right now, his few papers and files didn’t come close to filling the available space.
“Jamie?”
Jamie froze in his tracks, then backed up a step to Eric’s open door.
“I heard you arguing with Wallace. What are you doing here? You’ve got Tuesdays off.”
“Just checking up on a few things.” The tape felt like a lead weight in his pocket.
“Did Wallace settle down?”
Jamie narrowed his eyes, looking for a hint of mockery on his brother’s face, but he didn’t find any. Maybe that part of the conversation had been too qui
et. “He’s fine.”
“Good. And you? You dealing with the rejection okay?”
“Fuck off.”
“Hey!” Eric called as Jamie stalked toward his own office. “Wait a sec. I wanted to talk to you.”
Gritting his teeth, he spun back toward his brother’s door.
“I’m serious,” Eric said. “It’s about Tessa.”
That wiped away all of Jamie’s outrage. “Why? What’s wrong?”