Page 20 of Break My Heart
I’m not going to let Gina win. I’m determined to beat her. People are going to be lined up outside my door and it’s not going to be because of a $2 special. It’s going to be because my beer is so damn good people will wait in line for it.
The rest of the night I work on a new brew, a stout that’s smooth and dark and just the right balance of bitter and sweet. It’s going to be my best yet. But I’m not stopping there. I’m going toredo all of the fall brews. And I’m going to perfect my hard cider. The competition is just a few weeks away and I’m determined to win. There’s no way Gina is winning a contest hosted at my own family’s orchard.
I feel like I’m seven again, back at camp, competing against the annoying girl with the big brown eyes and messy long hair that was always flying in her face. I can still see her smug smile that showed up before every competition. She was so sure that she’d win. She didn’t even consider she might lose. And now she’s here in Haydon Falls with that same smug smile, assuming she’ll win again.
It’s not going to happen. She is not putting me out of business in my own hometown. She wants to own a brewery? She can do it somewhere else. She doesn’t need to do it here. She can sell that building she inherited and use it to start a place in a different town, because this town is mine.
* * *
The next morning, I go to the orchard to get a new crop of apples.
‘Hey, Mom,’ I say, giving her a quick hug on my way to the fields.
‘What’s the rush? Where are you going?’
I stop before I reach the door. ‘I need to pick some apples. I’m working on the hard cider today.’
‘I thought you were done with that,’ she says, meeting me at the door.
‘I thought I was too, but I think it needs more work. I have some ideas I want to try.’
‘Why don’t you just take the apples we already picked?’
We’re in the barn and she points to the crates of apples lined up against the wall. Not everyone wants to pick their own so weput apples in crates for people to bag up and buy. We also have bags that are already filled.
‘I want them fresh from the trees,’ I say. ‘The flavor will be better.’
‘Sawyer, that’s a myth. You know that. The picked ones taste just as good.’ She sighs and hands me a picking basket. ‘Be sure to say goodbye before you leave.’
‘I will. Thanks, Mom.’ I give her a smile as I go out the door.
‘Oh! Sawyer, there’s .?.?.’ Her voice gets lost in the rustling sound of the trees blowing in the breeze as I head to the orchard. It’s Friday morning and the orchard isn’t open to visitors until ten. I like having the place to myself. It’s calm and quiet and lets me focus on finding the perfect apples for the best batch of hard cider I’ve ever made.
‘What are you doing here?’ someone says from behind me.
I turn around and see Gina standing there, wearing a pair of tight jeans and an even tighter white tank top with a plaid flannel shirt over it, left open in front. My gaze immediately drops to her tits. Damn, they’re big, or maybe they just look big compared to her tiny waist and small frame.
‘Hello?’ she says, sounding annoyed. ‘I asked what you’re doing here.’
‘I’m picking apples, not that I owe you an explanation.’ I walk up to her. ‘My family owns the place. I can be here whenever I want. Why are YOU here? We’re not open until ten. Did you sneak on the property to steal our apples?’
Her jaw drops, then snaps shut. ‘I can’t believe you just said that! Do you really think I’m a thief?’
‘I don’t know.’ I take a step closer. ‘I don’t know anything about you, other than that you use cheap tactics like $2 beer to get customers.’
‘You mean the tactic you copied from me to get people to goback to your brewery? Is your beer that bad that you have to sell it below cost to get people to drink it?’
‘You did it first!’ I yell, my blood boiling. I am so damn angry, and not just because of what she said, but because she’s here, at my orchard, and looking so fucking hot I’m having a hard time concentrating.
‘I did it for the opening!’ she yells back. ‘So people would give me a chance! I don’t have it easy like the local golden boy with his Kanfield halo.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean? You really think my name is the only reason people come to my brewery?’
‘It’s definitely not hurting you.’ She steps up to me, practically in my face. ‘G’s is a long drive from town, I’m not a local, and I’m competing with the guy who everyone treats like a celebrity because of his last name!’
‘So you’re using that as an excuse for selling cheap beer?’
‘It was for the grand opening!’ She throws her hands up. ‘You’re not even listening!’ She stomps off. ‘Just leave me alone. I don’t have time for this.’
