Page 7 of Break My Heart (The Haydon Falls #2)

Gina

Sawyer’s brewery makes mine look like a dump.

I tried to make mine look better by having windows put in and adding a fresh coat of paint, but it still looks like an old warehouse.

Sawyer’s brewery is in one of the many historic buildings that line the downtown.

It has that old time charm with a brick facade and the original building’s name and date carved into it.

Above the door is the Kanfield Brewery sign with Kanfield written in the same script font that’s used for the orchard.

The inside has been completely renovated but made to look like it’s old with reclaimed wood tables and stools, wood beams along the ceiling, scraped wood planks on the floor and an old time mirror behind the bar.

You’d never know this place almost burned down in a fire.

I’m guessing Sawyer got a deal when he bought it.

He was probably the only person who wanted it.

It’s in a great location, but the renovations had to have cost a fortune.

‘Come on in,’ a guy says.

Looking up, I see the bartender waving me over. I was so focused on checking the place out that I’m blocking the door .

‘Sorry,’ I say, stepping out of the way as two men go by. The place is busy for a weekday afternoon. Almost every table is full.

Walking up to the bar, I take the last open seat at the very end.

‘What can I get you?’ the bartender asks, smiling as he holds up a glass.

‘Something dark,’ I tell him.

‘Dark, huh?’ he says in a flirty tone. ‘Got it.’ He goes to the tap to fill the glass.

He’s cute, maybe mid-thirties with dark brown hair and a beard. He’s got a fish tat on his arm and a thick black leather cuff bracelet around his wrist.

‘Give it a try,’ he says, setting the glass in front of me. He waits for me to take a drink.

‘A coffee stout.’ I take another sip. ‘The balance is off. It’s a little too heavy on the malt and a tad too bitter, but other than that I like it.’

He tilts his head, eyeing me. ‘Let me guess. You’re the new brewery owner?’

‘How’d you know?’

He shrugs. ‘Never met anyone else around here besides Sawyer that knows that much about beer.’ He extends his hand to me. ‘Welcome to Haydon Falls.’

‘Thanks.’ I smile at him, wondering if he’s being sincere or only being nice to throw me off and trick me into letting my guard down.

I need to watch what I say here and make sure the alcohol doesn’t cause me to let something slip.

This is the competition, and anything I say can, and probably will, be used against me.

‘Speaking of Sawyer,’ I say, ‘Is he around?’

‘You just missed him. He went to run an errand. Is that why you’re here? To see Sawyer?’

‘No,’ I say, louder than I intended. I clear my throat. ‘I just thought I’d stop by and check the place out. ’

He nods. ‘Gotta check out the competition. I get it.’

‘I didn’t plan to. I mean, I planned to eventually, but I haven’t had time. And then I ran into Sawyer at my place last night and thought I should come to his.’

The guy’s staring at me like he’s trying to figure me out, probably because I’m rambling and talking way too fast.

‘If you need anything else, just let me know. My name’s Wade.’ He gives me a wink and a smile before taking off. If I hadn’t been a bartender myself, I might think he was flirting with me, but I know he’s only doing it for tips.

‘You should try the lager next,’ the old man beside me says before taking a big gulp of his beer.

‘I think one is enough,’ I tell him. ‘I have to drive.’

‘You should stay and have another. It’s a big saving from his usual price.’

I turn to the guy. ‘What do you mean?’

He holds up his glass. ‘Only $2 today. Sawyer’s having a sale to compete with that new place outside of town.’

‘G’s Brewhouse?’

‘Yeah, that’s the one. I went there last night with some buddies of mine.’ He leans over to me. ‘If you ask me, G’s has got better beer, but this one’s pretty good too.’

Why is he telling me this? He just heard Wade say I owned the brewery. Maybe the man wasn’t listening, or maybe he didn’t hear us talking. It’s loud in here and the man might have bad hearing. Or maybe he’s a spy and Sawyer put him up to this to get information from me.

What am I saying? I’m the one who sat next to this man. He’s not a spy. I’m being paranoid.

‘So you think you’ll go back?’ I ask, deciding to do some market research while I’m here .

‘To G’s?’ He shrugs. ‘Maybe. If I’m out that way. It’s a bit of a drive for a beer.’

‘But you just said how good it was. Doesn’t that mean it’s worth the drive?’

‘I’ll drink most any beer. I’m not picky. And I need to support a townie. The Kanfield boys were born and raised in Haydon Falls. This G person’s not even from here.’ He drinks the rest of his beer. ‘I gotta get home to the wife. She yells at me when I’m late for dinner.’

Dinner? It’s not even five o’clock.

‘What’s your name?’ he asks as he gets off the barstool.

‘Gina.’ I smile at him. ‘And yours?’

‘Sam. I work at the post office, just part-time. I’m heading into retirement.’

‘Nice to meet you.’

He eyes me. ‘You’re new here. Where you from?’

‘Green Bay.’

‘Go Packers!’ He grins. ‘You go to the games?’

‘Of course,’ I say, as if I go all the time, but I’ve actually only been to a few.

His phone dings. ‘That’s the wife. Well, hope to see you again sometime.’

‘Yeah, see ya.’ I turn back to the bar and take a drink of my beer. I’m starting to like it more than I did on my first sip. It doesn’t seem as bitter but still seems too malty.

‘You mind if I sit here?’ a guy asks.

I look over and see Sawyer taking the seat the old guy just left. My pulse quickens and my breaths speed up, either from how hot Sawyer looks or because I’m furious with him for copying my idea. I decide to go with furious.

‘It’s your place,’ I say, turning away from him. ‘Sit wherever you want. ’

‘So what brings you to Kanfield Brewery? Doing a little spying?’ He says it jokingly, but I don’t find it humorous.

I turn to him. ‘You’re accusing ME of spying? After you showed up at G’s last night and copied me?’

‘Copied you?’ he says, pretending to be clueless.

I huff. ‘You’re seriously trying to act like this was your idea? The $2 beers?’

‘You aren’t the first person to run a special,’ he says, meeting my gaze. He has nice eyes. They’re a rich chocolatey-brown color. I remember as a kid thinking his eyes looked like chocolate ice cream. ‘I’m pretty sure it’s been going on for centuries.’

‘And yet you only discounted your beers after seeing how much business I was getting from my $2 beer special.’

He leans in closer, his eyes locked on mine. ‘It’s called price matching, and it’s been done forever.’

‘It’s unoriginal and desperate.’

‘And yet it works.’ He glances at his crowded bar then looks back at me and smirks. ‘You really think I’m going to just sit by and watch you take all my customers?’

‘They’re not your customers. You don’t own them. They can drink wherever they want, and they’re going to choose my place because the beer is better.’

‘Says who? You and your employees?’

I want to kill him, or punch him, or scream at him. He can say all the bad things he wants about me, but I’m not letting him insult my beer. I’ve worked my ass off making it the best it can be, spent hours perfecting it, and I am not letting Sawyer even imply it’s not good.

‘For your information,’ I say, ‘the man who was sitting here before you told me my beer was better than yours.’

‘Yeah, okay,’ he says, like he doesn’t believe me.

I narrow my eyes at him. ‘I bought into your little nice act last night, but now I see you’re no different than you were when we were kids.’

‘So you do remember me.’

I pause, realizing I pretended not to know him last night. ‘It came to me later.’

‘Uh huh.’ He smirks. ‘So what exactly do you remember about me?’

‘That you were a whiny little kid who threw a tantrum when you didn’t win. And all these years later, nothing’s changed. You still can’t stand to lose to a girl. It’s really pathetic.’

‘I can’t stand to lose, period. It doesn’t matter that you’re a girl. And this time I’m not going to lose. I put my heart and soul into this place and every last dime I had. I’m not letting it fail.’

‘And I’m not letting G’s fail.’

He slowly sits back, the movement causing his cologne to drift my way.

The jerk smells really good. He looks good too, wearing a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

It’s got the brewery logo on it. It looks really good on him, and professional, and has me thinking I need to get more than just t-shirts for the uniforms at G’s.

Maybe I should get button-ups too, but then I’d be copying Sawyer, not that he’d know when I ordered them. I could say I got them weeks ago.

‘I guess it’s game on.’ He holds his hand out. ‘May the best man—or woman—win.’

‘Oh, I’m going to win. I have no doubts.’ I get off the barstool and search my purse for my wallet.

‘Don’t worry about the bill,’ Sawyer says. ‘It’s on me.’

‘I’d rather pay.’ I find my wallet and take out a ten, setting it on the bar. ‘Trust me, you’ll need it when everyone’s going to G’s instead of here.’

He laughs. ‘Keep dreaming. The Kanfield name alone will keep people coming back. ’

‘It’s really sad you have to use your family name to stay in business instead of making beer people actually want to drink.’

I march out of there, feeling happy I got the last word in, but regretting I made that comment about his beer. It’s actually pretty good, and knowing how hard it is to make, I shouldn’t insult it. But he implied mine wasn’t good so I guess we’re even.

On the drive back to G’s, I feel like every nerve in my body is fired up.

I feel jittery, like I just drank a pot of coffee.

Sawyer makes me so damn angry and it’s way worse now than when we were kids.

Back then, I just laughed when he’d taunt me before a competition.

I was always confident I’d win, and if I didn’t, it didn’t matter.

It was camp. Big deal. But now it’s my business.

I have everything riding on this. If I fail, I don’t know what I’ll do or where I’ll go.

Ryder would let me work for him again, but I don’t want to go back there and do what I’ve been doing for the last ten years.

I’m 30 years old. It’s time I step up and make something of myself.

I want to make my grandpa proud, even if he can’t see me.

I’m hoping he can. I’m hoping he’s up there in the clouds looking down and smiling when he sees what I’ve done with the place.

When I told him I wanted to open my own brewery, he said ‘Go do it, kid. What are you waiting for?’

That was two years ago, and I actually did it.

I opened my own brewery. Now I just have to make sure it doesn’t close down.

I’m not letting Sawyer win. He may have a fancy building and downtown location and well-known name, but I’m convinced my beer is better.

And as for the cider competition, if Sawyer thinks he’s winning that, he’s crazy.

My hard cider is going to win, and when it does, it’ll put G’s on the map and make it a destination for tourists.

I can do this. I can beat Sawyer just like I did when we were kids. I’m actually looking forward to it.