CHAPTER TWENTY.

"WE'VE GOT A PROBLEM," Tessa's voice said into his ear.

Phone clutched loosely in his hand, Jamie settled back into his mattress. "Hmm?" he asked sleepily. Tessa got upset about a lot of stuff, and an early-morning phone call from her wasn't exactly something to get worked up about.

"Jamie, are you awake?"

"Kind of," he grumbled, eyes still closed. "What time is it?"

"It's nine."

Nine o'clock on a Thursday morning. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. He'd only talked to Olivia once since Tuesday. Concentrating in class today would be challenging. He hoped she wore heels again. And maybe that innocent little button-down dress she'd worn the first day of- "Jamie! Wake up!"

He forced his eyes open. "I'm awake. I swear. What's wrong?"

"I know you normally come in late on Thursdays, but Chester just called and he can't make it."

"Are you kidding me? I already filled in on Tuesday, and I had to get in at eight yesterday to meet the plumber."

"I'm sorry. I'd do it myself, but I've got an appointment with the accountant and I have to stop in and do a press check at the printer for the new coasters. Eric's supposed to leave at two for-"

"Do not ask Eric. Crap. What the hell's wrong with Chester, anyway?"

"His girlfriend's really sick with the flu. He's taking her to the emergency room."

Great. Now Jamie couldn't even be grouchy about it. Well, not publicly. But privately he was going to be grouchy as hell about missing class. And Olivia. She'd gotten all caught up in her work on the brewery expansion, and she seemed to have forgotten the other side of the coin. She was supposed to be having fun. With him.

"All right," Jamie growled. "I'll be in before eleven."

"Okay. Great. Wear the kilt."

"No. I'm not in the mood."

"Just wear it. Come on. It's great for business."

"I don't want to wear the damn kilt, okay?" He heard a suspicious clicking sound in the background. "Tessa-"

"Too late. I already tweeted it."

"Goddamn it! You'd better-" The phone went dead in his ear. Jamie shot it an incredulous glare, then threw it as hard as he could into the mattress. It landed with an unsatisfying, soft plop and barely even bounced.

This damn social networking thing had gone far enough. Jamie stormed to his bathroom and turned on the shower. Not even the sight of the broken towel rack cheered him up today, and he showered as quickly as he could.

He didn't feel up to the kilt today. Didn't feel up to the flirtatious comments and outright ogling, but it would be worse if he didn't wear it after the announcement on Twitter. Fielding disappointment would take twice as much charm, even if most of the women were feigning it.

He pulled on his dark brown kilt, and added a plain black T-shirt as a protest. A damned ineffectual protest, but the black reflected his mood, at least.

Aside from his irritation with Tessa, he wasn't quite sure what was wrong with him. He felt restless. Impatient. He wanted to move forward with his plans, but he expected a fight and that weighed heavy on his shoulders. He was off balance. Uncertain. He didn't know what was coming with his family, his work. And he had no idea what the hell was happening with Olivia.

Jamie grabbed a bagel on the way out the door. He was tired already, and he had a twelve-hour day ahead.

Mist wet his skin as he walked to his truck, but it felt good, cooling him down a little. A little. But his neck was still tight as hell when he walked through the back door of the brewery. Ignoring the sounds of activity coming from the office area, Jamie grabbed an apron and started loading the stacks of dirty glasses into the dishwasher. Thank God the front room didn't open for another hour.

Henry came out of the tank room, rolling a bucket and a mop in front of him. "Oh, hey, Jamie. I'll get those. Next on my list."

Nodding, Jamie started up the wash he'd loaded, then headed to the front. The doors were still swinging behind him when Tessa pushed through. "Hey, Jamie."

"Give me the password to the Twitter account."

"What?" She stopped dead. "Why?"

"Because I'm taking it over."

"Jamie, no! I'm sorry about the kilt thing, all right? I shouldn't have done that."

He shook his head. "I'm done with it. Tomorrow morning I'll go buy a smartphone. Customer service is part of my job and I need to take care of it. The password, please."

"You don't even know how to use Twitter."

"Give me a little credit, will you? I can figure it out."

Tessa frowned down at the phone in her hand. "But I like it."

"Sorry."

Tessa stomped over and grabbed a slip of paper from under the register. She scrawled out the Twitter account name and the password and handed it over with no grace at all. "Gee, thanks."

"You have to be entertaining, all right? You can't just put dry stuff out there. You need to respond to people's messages and-"

"I can handle it," he interrupted. "I'm not a complete imbecile."

"Why are you so grumpy?"

"Because I'm supposed to be off until four!"

"So, what's so important?" she asked, now as irritated as he was.

"I-" Crap. Jamie shook his head and bit back the words he'd been about to say. "Nothing. I'm just tired."

"I don't know. I think you're up to something."

Jamie snarled. "Whatever it is, it can't be anything important, right?"

"You've got a chip on your shoulder. I'll be in my office if you cheer up, all right?"

Ignoring her, he started wiping down the taps. By the time the whole bar was shined to a polish, Jamie felt slightly calmer and almost sorry he'd snapped at his sister. But really, her little Twitter jokes were getting to be too much. He had a right to be pissed.

But when Henry brought in a crate of still-steaming glasses, Jamie forced himself to give a small smile. "Thanks, Henry."

"Hey, I can fill in for you for a couple of hours if you want. I helped Eric at that trade show a few weeks ago."

"Naw, I'm good. But thanks."

Henry nodded and headed back to the kitchen.

"Wait. If you want to start training, let's set up a schedule."

The back of the kid's neck reddened and he nodded eagerly. "That'd be great. I think I could be good at it."

Jamie wasn't so sure. Henry was twenty-one, but he looked sixteen and he was still as awkward and gangly as a teenager. Still, he deserved a shot, and his eagerness was a good sign. It actually went a long way toward cheering Jamie up, and he was whistling as he grabbed the vacuum and turned it on. He'd finished half the room when he realized the growl behind him wasn't the vacuum. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Eric standing there, arms crossed and mouth turned down in disapproval.

Goddamn it. Jamie did not need this now. He kept vacuuming.

"Jamie!"

Jamie took a deep breath and turned off the vacuum. "What?"

"I said, what are you doing here?"

"I'm filling in for Chester." He left off, What the heck does it look like? in an effort to be civil.

"Why?"

"He couldn't make it."

Eric's jaw ticced. "What the hell is wrong with your bartenders? This is the second time this week."

"Ease up, man. Chester had to take his girlfriend to the hospital. Did you want me to say no to that?"

"And what about Tuesday?"

Jamie's shoulders tightened to steel. "What about it?"

"New guy, right? Some friend of yours? Decided to drive to Las Vegas instead of come in to work?"

"That is not what happened. His car broke down. He-"

"I am sick and tired of these losers you keep hiring. I'm going to start sitting in on the interviews."

"The fuck you will," Jamie growled.

Eric growled right back. "You obviously need some help."

"I don't need help! When have I ever asked you to pick up the slack?"

"Boulder Business Expo a couple months ago? Sound familiar? Wait, maybe it doesn't it, because you never showed up. You were too busy filling in for a bartender who took off for Mexico for spring break!"

I'm not going to hit him, Jamie chanted in his head. I'm not going to punch him in his smug mouth. "Look," he ground out, trying to keep his tone reasonable. "Hiring servers and bartenders isn't like hiring an office person. The wages suck, and it's not the kind of job you take when you're ready to settle down. So, yeah, there's going to be some turnover, but Chester is a good-"

"This isn't up for discussion."

Jamie's patience snapped, and he slammed his hand into a table. "You don't get to decide that, damn it. We're all equal partners here."

"Yeah? You really think you're pulling your weight around here, Jamie?"

He'd said it. Eric had finally said exactly what he'd always thought. That unspoken sneer that lurked behind his words. Jamie heard a strange rushing sound and realized it was his blood surging through his veins. His pulse beat in his temples. Everything in his body tightened until he thought he'd either explode or simply snap in half.

Eric seemed to recognize that he'd gone too far. He dropped his head, and his shoulders rose on a breath. "Look-"

"I pull my fucking weight," Jamie ground out past clenched teeth. "I do my job, and it's a job you couldn't do in a million years."

"You-"

Jamie shoved away the arm that Eric reached toward him. "I'd love to see you try it, brother. I'd love to see you be charming and interesting and approachable. I'd love to see you make small talk with grumpy old men and washed-up sports stars who talk about themselves for two hours and women who think it's okay to touch your ass because you're nice to them."

"Listen-"

"I'd like to see you clean up a spilled pitcher of beer with a goddamn smile even though you're exhausted because you've already been on your feet for ten hours and you know you've got another hour to go, because if everything's not perfect in the morning your own brother will call you an irresponsible, idiot asshole who can't do anything right."

Eric's face paled as if Jamie had punched him right in the gut.

Good.

"Guys?" Tessa whispered. She stood in the doorway, her purse clutched in one hand, the doors to the kitchen still swinging behind her.

Jamie reached for the vacuum again.

"Jamie," Eric said. His hand touched Jamie's arm and it felt like an electric shock that connected directly to all his rage.

He shoved Eric. Hard. "Don't touch me."

"Hey!" Eric shouted, catching himself on a table.

"Jamie," Tessa said, rushing forward. "Stop it."

"Stop what? You're the one who told me to stand up to him."

"Not like this!"

"I was in here minding my own business. Doing my job. And he came in looking for a fight. Didn't you, Eric?"

"I just wanted to talk about-"

"You didn't want to talk about shit. You wanted to tell me what I was doing wrong. You wanted to let me know what a fuckup I am, just like always."