Page 28 of Golden Touch
Connor chuckles. “Suit yourself. Nobody thinks of your family that way, though. Your dad rolls up his sleeves in the brewhouse every day. Cleans the tanks with the rest of us.”
“That’s not because he’s humble. It’s because he’s a control freak.”
Connor laughs, as if I were joking.
I’m not.
When every glass sparkles, I hang up my dish towel and see Connor off. The brewhouse is quiet, all the brewers having left for the day. There’s a light still on in the office, though, so I head back there. Somehow, it doesn’t surprise me that Livia is the first to arrive in the morning and the last to leave.
After stepping into the office, I don’t immediately see her. Then I crane my neck and spot her high on the library ladder, holding an open cigar box. “Oh. There you are.”
She startles violently, destabilizing her balance. She wisely chooses to grab the ladder to save herself, but this makes the box wobble, and suddenly it’s raining cash. Tens and twenties flutter down from above, and she lets out a startled noise, something like “yeep!” And then “fuck a duck,” a moment later.
I laugh. Who wouldn’t? Then I start to gather the bills from the floor. “Wasn’t trying to scare you. Awfully jumpy, aren’t you?”
She growls and hurries down the ladder. “I can pick those up.”
“I’m sure you can, but I’m a helpful kinda guy. Is this the petty cash? Wouldn’t a bank deposit be a better idea?”
Livia hesitates. “The deposit is already in the safe. Connor brought it to me a half hour ago. It’s locked up.”
Huh. “Then what is all this?” I wave a stack of money at her.
“It’s my money,” she says quietly. “I keep it in a box on the top shelf. It’s safe there. And today was payday.”
I did hear two of the brewers talking about picking up their paychecks. “No automatic deposit for you?”
Guiltily, she shakes her head. “Your father pays me in cash. I can show you the ledger entry. And I can show you the math on the bank deposit. You can count it before I take the money to the bank tomorrow morning.”
“I don’t need to check your math,” I say carefully. “Does everyone get paid in cash?” What a strange arrangement.
She shakes her head again. “Just me. By special agreement. I know it’s weird. He doesn’t check my math, either, which I think is awfully trusting. But I can’t exactly tell him I think so. It would seem…”
“Guilty?” I try.
“Well, yeah. And you know he doesn’t take advice very easily.”
I snort. “He’s an odd duck. Just tell me this—is he lucky to have you on his side?”
“Hell, yes,” she says immediately. “I’m a fantastic bookkeeper. I caught a bunch of mistakes during my first month here. The last guy’s work was garbage.”
“All right. How about you put this away, then?” I hand her the stack of bills I’d collected off the floor. “Seems like the bank would be safer, though.”
“I’ll take it under advisement,” she says in a voice that tells me she has no such plans. “He called, by the way.”
“Hmm?” I’m busy admiring her cute ass in those jeans as she climbs the ladder again.
“Your father called. He had me read out the inventory, so you two can plot your order.”
“Yeah, okay. And?”
“He asked me to put in an emergency order for hops. So I did. You’ll have it in the next few days.”
“Ah.” I guess that makes sense. “Thought you were going to say he had second thoughts about trusting me with the recipe. And meanwhile, he’s trusting you with all his material wealth.”
She gives me a tiny smile. “I guess we won’t know for sure until he actually shares the recipe with you, will we?”
“Nope. Guess not.” I jam my hands in my pockets. “Want to go out for dinner? My treat. You fed me lunch.”
