Chapter 14: Counting Kegs

Hollander Brewing at ten on a Monday had chairs upside down on every table and the smell of last Friday's beer.

Dean let me in through the kitchen door.

The head server and the dishwasher came in behind me, because it was their prep morning and they weren't going to miss this.

My phone buzzed with two messages from Elias.

The first said: Eat something.

The second said: I'm not asking as your boss.

I read them twice and put the phone face down.

My mouth still remembered his, and I had a room to get through first.

The investor came in at exactly ten.

She was about sixty-five, in a gray wool coat, with silver hair cut short and a clipboard under her arm.

She walked straight past us to the walk-in cooler and counted kegs out loud.

Dean followed her with a pen.

"Short two," she said, coming out. "Again."

"The supplier," said a voice from the back.

Troy stood in the office doorway with his sleeves rolled and his best smile on.

He had clearly been hiding there since eight.

He saw me, and the smile stopped.

"Marin. What are you doing here?"

"She's with me," said the investor, without looking up from the clipboard.

I had never met her. I had no idea why she said it.

Dean cleared his throat. "I sent her the pages."

"I know you did. I got a copy at six this morning." She turned to face me. "You're the girlfriend."

"I was."

"The books say your forty-eight thousand dollars is a gift."

"It's a loan," I said.

I took the folder out of my bag and laid it on the bar.

The original note was on top, with Troy's signature and the date, five years old.

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