He hung up and raised his eyebrows at Eric. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I can hear you working in here and it’s distracting.”
“Oh. The door’s closed. Do you—?”
“I’m just kidding, man.” Eric dropped into the chair and leaned back as if he were settling in.
“Are you gonna watch me like a movie or something?”
“Maybe. I’m on the edge of my seat waiting to see what you do next.”
Jamie finally smiled. “The cliffhanger of the season?”
“Yeah.” Eric’s mouth turned up the tiniest bit. “I’m glad you’re back. No one wants to be alone with me sixty hours a week. Not even me. I think my arm is bruised from Tessa punching me in the same spot a thousand times.”
“That bad, were you?”
“I was pretty fucking grumpy.”
“Yeah?” Jamie asked. “Just because you missed me?”
Now Eric really smiled. “Something like that. And Tessa didn’t let me forget for one second that it was my fault.”
“I’m pretty clear on what that’s like.”
Eric nodded and reached idly for the catalog of restaurant supplies on the corner of Jamie’s desk. He paged through, his eyes sweeping over the marked pages.
Jamie took a deep breath and braced himself for suggestions, critiques, helpful pointers about what he was doing wrong. That was fine. He could handle it.
When Eric set the catalog down, he cleared his throat and met Jamie’s gaze. “You’re doing a good job,” he said, his mouth stiff around the strange words. “Thanks.”
“I’m a little worried you two won’t need me anymore.”
Jamie laughed, but Eric wasn’t laughing.
His eyes tightened. “I don’t really have any sort of gift, you know. I don’t bring any specific skills. It’s all just hard work.”
“That’s a skill in itself,” Jamie answered.
“I suppose. But what I’m trying to say is…you can do this. All of it. You’ve got that same special thing Dad had. You put people at ease. You make them smile. And if you add in working your ass off, you’ve got it all.”
“That’s not true, man. I can do the front room stuff, sure. But I can’t do what Tessa does with numbers and schedules. And I could never do what you do, day in and day out.”
“Sure you could.”
He seemed serious, but Jamie couldn’t figure out what the hell was weighing on him. “Eric, the big picture means nothing to me. I can’t see it. You’re the only one here who can do that. And all my hard work is done on things I enjoy. You can’t convince me that you enjoy dealing with those beer show guys all the time. And I know you hate managing the bottling and shipping. So spare me the pity party.”
That seemed to snap Eric out of it. He managed another smile and slapped his hand down on Jamie’s desk. “All right. I just wanted you to know I’m proud of you. And Dad would be, too. Not just today, either. I should’ve said it before.”
Jamie didn’t like the heat rushing to his face, so he just muttered a foul word and ordered Eric out of his office. “I’ve got work to do. God knows you’d better not take a chance of interrupting my rhythm.”
“Good point.” Eric was halfway out the door when he stopped and turned back. “Um, listen. I may have screwed something up.”
“You?” Jamie scoffed.
“When Olivia Bishop came to see me, she said she was with the college. You’d said you were taking a class, and…”
“Don’t worry, man. She was my teacher, but it was all on the up-and-up.” Jamie winked, still a little thrilled with the idea. Or a lot.