Page 68 of Trusting You

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But as much as I could recognize that I was in the wrong, I was still angry. Why was she keeping stuff from me? We were a team, both inside the brewery and out. It would suck to lose her as an employee, but I’m not going to hold her back. She deserved to do whatever she wanted. I guess I was just hoping she would stay closer to home.

I also had to apologize to her. I knew that. She had been stomping around all night and avoiding me. She was chatting with the guests, making sure everyone got what they needed, and helping with crowd control. These seniors could get unruly. I had expected this to draw a modest crowd and end early. Now it looked like I would be here all night, and the cleanup would be brutal. I shot a look at Cecelia who was laughing with a group of ladies. I was so grateful to her, but why had she packed so many events in? I still had to brew and run this business. I couldn’t be here until one a.m. cleaning up from bingo. I was exhausted. We had been hosting a ton of events, and with Thanksgiving next week, we were headed into a packed holiday calendar. Add to that our brewing schedule—I had to actually make the beer after all—and my dad’s health issues, and I was completely spent. I was feeling overwhelmed and out of control and I was panicking.

Maybe the best thing would be to cut back on some of the events and get things under control. I was barely managing. I had to keep a lot of balls in the air and couldn’t afford to drop anything at the moment. And Cece was eventually going to leave and take another job. Maybe next week or maybe in a few months. But it would happen. Without her here to keep everything running smoothly, we would be screwed.I need to talk to her, get her to understand that the schedule is just too ambitious right now. Get her to slow down, focus, and talk about the future, talk about us. I don’t care if she works in Boston, but I need a minute to catch my breath and at least talk to her about it. That’s what I need. Just to slow things down.

* * *

“I don’t understand. You want me to cancel the band?” I had the bright idea to grab Cece and have a quick chat in my office during bingo. It was not going well.

“Yes. No. I’m not sure. There is a lot going on right now, and I’m struggling to keep up.”

“Well, the rest of the team is ready for this weekend. We’ll be fine.” She was completely brushing off my concerns.

“But the band is expensive, and I don’t want to do the music thing this weekend.”

She glared at me, and I took a step back. “Why not? They have a huge social media following and people are really excited about the show. I rented professional sound equipment and we are expecting huge crowds, including people from out of state. Also we signed a fucking contract.”

I sighed and cursed myself for even starting this conversation. I was not in the right headspace to have this fight with her right now. And her unwillingness to listen to me was really starting to piss me off. She clearly had not cooled down from our conversation this afternoon.

“I told you it’s a bad idea. We are not a music venue. We are a brewery. I don’t want a ton of hipsters buying one beer and sitting at my bar all night listening to shitty music. This isn’t what I want for my business.”

“Excuse me? The goal has always been to get more people in the door, make them customers, sell them beer, and then send them out into the world to buy your beer at liquor stores and restaurants. I am not following.”

Godammit, I forgot how smart and logical she was. “I didn’t approve this. You can’t go behind my back and just make these plans. I am the CEO. I need to be able to manage everything we do.”

“No, you don’t. You have employees for that, dumbass. I have worked here three months, and in that time you have trusted me enough to plan and execute many events. How is this different?”

I struggled to give her an adequate answer. Truth was, I didn’t know. My head was foggy from exhaustion, and I was mad, sad, and frustrated with the world. I wanted to tell her lots of things, but apparently the only words that could come out of my mouth were shitty ones.

She put her hands on her hips. Damn, she looked sexy when she was mad. “You are just pissed because I told you about the interview.”

No. I’m not mad about that. Was I? Of course not.I wasn’t happy about it. I wanted her to stay here forever, but this was a totally separate thing. This was my brewery. I needed to be kept up to speed and not blindsided by concerts and rental equipment. “No, this isn’t about that. This is about you being all up in my business. This is my brewery. I succeed alone and I fail alone. I gave you a chance, and you’ve done a good job.”

She stood there speechless. Logically, I knew I should stop talking, but the word vomit kept flowing. “But there is a reason I don’t take on investors or partners. I call the shots.”

The words hung in the air between us. I could see her shaking with rage.What did I do? God, I’m an idiot.

After a few minutes of tense silence she spoke. “Look around, Liam. You are so fucking lucky, and you don’t even realize it. You are surrounded by people who love and support you. People who want to help—who are desperate to help—and you won’t let them because you are too stubborn.”

I didn’t know how to respond. Her voice was eerily calm as she continued. “I don’t know why you have this obsession with doing everything yourself. It’s not working out for you. Wake up.”

“I would wake up if I wasn’t so exhausted. I work twenty hours a day, Cece. I can only do so much.”

There was a knock on the door. Trent popped his head in, and he looked sweaty and disheveled. “Sorry to interrupt, guys, but the IPA is tapped and I can’t leave the bar to change the keg. These old people are relentless. I can barely keep up.”

“You okay, Trent?”

“Yeah. It’s just busy and some of the ladies are making me uncomfortable.”

Cece laughed. “Yup. Give these folks some booze and they start getting inappropriate really fast.”

“Mrs. Goldman just told me she was going to ‘eat me like a snack’” Mrs. Goldman was in her eighties, widowed, and had been our elementary school crossing guard.

Cece intervened as I laughed. “Don’t worry, Trent. I’ll be right out. I will make sure no one sexually harasses you.”

“Thanks, Cecelia.” He ran back to the bar, leaving us at a standoff.

I wanted this conversation to be over. I wanted to take her in my arms and kiss her and forget about the past few days of weirdness and go back to the way things were. The friendship, the banter, the intimacy. What we had was incredible. So why was it slipping away?