She laughed. “Really? You don’t care if I sit and read on my phone, in my own booth, and you’ll pay?”
“Whatever suits your disposition is all right by me.” Ben walked outside but held the door.
She followed and stopped in front of him. “I appreciate it, Ben. I’ll even sit with you. But I won’t bore you with stories about work or the years I spent at school. I want to hear about you and your life since high school.”
“Err… there’s not much to tell.”
“I doubt that. Even if your life seems boring to you, I want to hear everything.”
Ben shut the door and thought about how he could make his existence of being a teenaged parent while taking college courses and building a construction company over the last nine years sound interesting. He couldn’t. Had his life been that uneventful? His twenties were coming to an end, and he had a new start-up business and a camper to show for it. Nah. Maleah didn’t need to hear any of that noise. “Everything about me since high school can be summed up in one famous Groucho Marx quote: ‘Man is not in control of his own fate. The women in his life do that for him.’”
She fell into step next to him and laughed. “My father used to always say that we should go through life like a duck: ‘Majestic on top, but kicking like hell underneath.’”
Ben let that sink in for a second. He’d been paddling nonstop for months, years. “Yeah,” he said, giving the short reply.
They headed down the alley between the Columbine and Aspen buildings toward Main Street.
“So, where’s this new brewery?”
* * *
The sparse Tuesday night crowd gathered at the bar or occupied a few tables inside The Jackalope. Summer was coming to a close, and school had resumed, which meant the number of tourists in town was at a minimum. They had about a month before the leafers returned to the mountains for the annual turning of the aspen leaves. Ben was glad to be in the off season and not have to wait for a table as he led Maleah to a booth. He gave Dana, The Jack’s Tuesday night waitress, a wave as they crossed the dining room.
Dana’s hands were busy with a tray full of pint glasses, but she called over, “I’ll be right with you.”
Ben and Maleah slid into the booth.
“What’s good?” she asked.
“The Jackalope stout. If you want a lighter brew, try the summer wheat. The pale ale is strong and hoppy, but if you like the bitterness with some pine and citrus flavors, the Continental Divide IPA is the best in the county.”
“I meant the food, but drinking our dinner is another option to consider.”
“And a choice I can stand behind.” Ben winked and then added, “But not tonight. Real food is a must. Everything is good. What are you in the mood for?”
“Anything.”
“A girl with an open mind. I like that.”
“And I’m so hungry I could eat a plate of grubs and be happy,” she said.
Dana stepped up to the table and handed over some menus. “Grubs aren’t on the menu this week, but the salmon salad is top-notch. If you’re looking for something a little more local and exotic, try the Rocky Mountain oysters. What can I bring you to drink, loves?”
Ben looked at Maleah. “Do you want to sample what The Jackalope has to offer in the ever-expanding craft brew biz?”
“I do,” she said with a bright smile.
Ben refocused on Dana, a difficult task, since he was drawn to Maleah’s face and captivating mouth. “We’ll share a flight, and can you bring some water?”
“You got it.” Dana jotted down the drink order.
“Would you like anything else?” Ben asked Maleah.
“No, thank you.”
After Dana shimmied away toward the bar, Ben and Maleah opened their menus.
She said, “Grilled salmon on salad sounds perfect. I’m not so sure about eating Rocky Mountain oysters. Have you ever had them?”
Ben’s eyebrows stretched toward his hairline. Did Maleah know what Rocky Mountain oysters were? Her inquisitive expression suggested she didn’t know they were deep-fried bull testicles. Ben licked his lips, kept a straight face, and said, “I have a nut allergy.”
That broke her and she giggled. Maleah turned her head and lowered her lashes against rosy cheeks as her shoulders shook with laughter.
Apparently, she does know.
“I too have suddenly developed a nut allergy. Although I met a certain bull today who deserves such a fate.”
Ben grinned at her sharp wit and appreciation of his humor. “Harsh.”
She shrugged impishly as Dana returned with the sampler tray of seven different beers crafted at The Jackalope brewery. She took their food order, left the table, and Maleah’s phone started buzzing.
“It’s my cousin, Brielle. I need to answer. It’s about Aunt Kiki.” Maleah gave an apologetic look.
“Go ahead. It’s no problem.”
Maleah slid out of the booth and took the call outside. Ben drank half a glass of water before picking up one of the four-ounce beers from the taster tray.
As the light-bodied cream ale met its end, satisfying Ben’s thirst for beer, Gilbert Cantwell and William Johansson slid into the booth, sitting across from him.
“The two of you combined aren’t half as nice looking as Maleah, so get out,” he said, half joking but mostly serious. He’d known these two clowns most of his life, but that didn’t mean he had to put up with them. And seeing how Gilbert had already told half the town what he thought he saw on the side of the road, he knew a slaying was about to befall him.
“That’s hurtful,” William said. “Especially coming from a naked mole rat such as yourself.”
“Nice. I’ll take your naked mole rat, raise you a blobfish, and tell you two to beat it,” Ben threw back.
“That’s what she’s for.” Gilbert picked up a beer from the flight on the table.
Ben watched Gilbert help himself to his beer and said, “No. It’s not. She’s here visiting her aunt.”
Gilbert chugged the lager, nodding to himself, and then said, “I saw everything. Kiki had some kind of episode. I had just left the brewery when the ambulance arrived. She didn’t look too good to me. I hope she’s all right. Have you heard any news? It’d suck if she kicked the bucket. You’d lose all that work she’s hired you to do.”
William elbowed Gilbert in the ribs. “You were so wasted, man. I don’t know how you remembered anything from the other night. I had to drive your sorry ass home.”
Ben waited patiently and was glad the conversation had turned to other gossip that didn’t include himself or Maleah. “I was out at the ranch all weekend and today. I don’t know a thing about what happened.”
“You best find out if your employer is alive and kickin’, dude,” Gilbert said.
“Thanks for your concern,” Ben said with little patience for Gilbert’s lack of consideration and tact for the situation. He’d grown close to Kiki Brookhart, and she meant more to him than a steady paycheck.
“And I’m concerned about your new relationship status.”
William placed his meaty forearms on the table, interlaced his fingers, and shook his head in agreement.