27

Liliana

Maddie and I entered the bustling taproom of Hard Rock Brewing a bit ahead of schedule. We were there for an informal meeting to review new marketing materials with Alistair and Benedict.

Taking advantage of our early arrival, we scoped out the customers and observed the regulars who frequented the place.

I glanced around, absorbing the lively atmosphere of the taproom. Groups of people laughed and chatted while enjoying pints of beer. Rock music played in the background, enhancing the energetic vibe.

Alistair noticed us and waved, though he seemed occupied with other tasks, stealing occasional glances in my direction. I made a point not to get caught staring at him.

I didn’t want to be alone with him, or even around him much at all. Because what he wanted, what I wanted, was too damn tempting. I didn’t like the guilty feelings creeping back in. I was still with Austin and feeling this way about Alistair wasn’t fair to him.

Carl, the general manager they’d hired, and Shayna and Aaron, the taproom servers, were all there and all busy. They had a bus of older people from some group doing a tour, so Alistair was talking to most of them and being friendly.

Maddie pushed some art mockups toward me so we could check the designs against the general ambiance of the place.

Shayna hustled by, and I waved her down. “What group is this?” I asked, motioning toward the throng of people surrounding Alistair.

“I can’t remember their official name. It’s kind of like Red Hats, you know, the group for older ladies, but it’s for everybody. They pride themselves on getting out and doing cultural things. Museums, breweries, theater, that kind of thing. And that group,” she said, pointing at some women walking into the taproom, “are just regulars. They come every couple of weeks.”

Then she hurried away to serve the other guests.

We focused on the designs until Carl stopped at our table, curious to see what we were working on.

Laughter rang out from the other side of the room, so we all looked. Two women stood in front of Alistair, both laughing louder than they needed to.

It was instantly obvious that they were flirting their asses off. They seemed to be in some sort of competition to get his attention, one trying to out-laugh the other and flirt harder.

Carl’s eyes flicked to the women he chuckled. "I see Alistair’s fan club is out in full force."

Fan club?

I glanced at Carl, confused. He just laughed good-naturedly.

“That’s just what I call them. I think they come here more for him than the beer. And that one,” he said, nodding in the direction of the one with the tightest pair of jeans, “is like the fan club president. She’s been trying to get with Alistair for months. We have to pry them off so he can actually get any work done some nights."

I watched her step closer to him.

“Those jeans have to be cutting off circulation to something,” I said, amazed that she could breathe at all.

Alistair seemed to be eating up all the attention.

He smiled and laughed, patted their shoulders and touched their arms. They touched him more, though, and a couple of times he seemed to lean into it when Miss Tight Pants stroked her hand down his arm.

I felt an odd pang in my stomach. I shook my head slightly, annoyed with myself.

None of my business if Alistair had admirers.

It shouldn't bother me at all.

I had a boyfriend.

“You should have seen her when she noticed Alistair’s tattoo below his collar and insisted that he show it to her.” Carl shook his head.

Aaron was rushing by and caught what he said. He stopped and leaned down.

“I thought we were gonna need a mop,” he said with a laugh before he hurried away.

Carl shook his head again and said, “I’ve got to get back to work, ladies.”

I watched Miss Tight Pants flirting with my—with Alistair—for a few more minutes until she and her friend went elsewhere, and Alistair headed our way.

We were still waiting for Benedict to join us before starting the meeting, so I focused on the art, ready to show it to them as tentative designs to see which they liked best.

After Maddie excused herself to use the ladies’ room, Alistair touched my shoulder.

“I’m sorry about the other night at the restaurant. I acted like an ass.”

“You sure did,” I said, but I couldn’t help but smile at the end of it.

He pleaded with me, his eyes asking for forgiveness.

"I'll consider it," I replied curtly.

Miss Tight Pants appeared behind Alistair, signaling she and her friend were leaving, clearly indicating her interest in him. I couldn't help but wonder how many of them he took home.

Once she was gone, Alistair turned back to me.

I grinned, trying to play it cool. "Wow, the attention is overwhelming."

Focus, Liliana. Don't let this bother you.

"What?" Alistair teased, well aware of the attention he received.

"Don't worry about them," he said softly. "It's just harmless fun, keeps things lively around here."

"Right, noted," I replied quickly. "None of my business."

Alistair held my gaze for a moment, his expression unreadable. I looked away, feeling my cheeks flush.

"They're just being friendly," he added casually, as if it was routine.

But clearly, it wasn't unusual for him to attract flirtatious attention while trying to work. Some things hadn't changed since the last time I saw him.

Maddie returned, scoffing at the situation and saving me from having to comment. "Friendly, right. She was flirting like it was closing time at a bar."

Alistair laughed and waved her off.

"Not my type," he assured us, turning his attention back to me. "Definitely not hers."

"Sorry I'm a bit late," Benedict interrupted. "Just finished up a call with a supplier. Ready to begin?"

"Yes, let's start," I said, pulling out a folder of materials. "We can review the new promotional flyers and branding guidelines first, then discuss upcoming events and partnerships."

Alistair and Benedict nodded, settling in to review the materials. We dove into a productive discussion, covering the marketing timeline and strategies.

"Well, it looks like we're all set for now," I concluded, maintaining professionalism. "We'll be in touch if anything else comes up. Thanks for your time."

Benedict shook my hand warmly. "Absolutely, let us know if you need anything else."

Alistair extended his hand to me with a charming smile and a wink.

"Feel free to reach out anytime," Alistair said smoothly. "Always happy to collaborate."

I cleared my throat, withdrawing my hand.

Turning away, I headed for the exit without looking back.

What was I doing?

I prided myself on being composed and professional, yet a simple work meeting had stirred up feelings of jealousy and guilt, emotions I didn't want to entertain.

I needed to focus on moving forward, not dwelling on the past.

At least, that's what I tried to convince myself. But deep down, a part of me questioned whether moving on from Alistair was truly what I wanted after all.