All Night Long (Man of the Month 9) - Page 2

"I was poking around in Room Service," she told Elena now, referring to her favorite eclectic thrift store. "And I saw the pattern on some vintage dishes. I liked it, so I popped into True Blue Tattoo on Airport Boulevard and had it done on the way home."

She didn't mention that she'd bought the dishes, too. Nor did she mention that seeing them had sent little stabs straight into her heart. She didn't recall much about her early years, but she did remember eating grilled cheese sandwiches with her brother off of her grandmother's starburst pattern plates.

The memory had been lost until the moment she'd seen the dishes, and then it had all rushed back. The smell of the bread in the pan, the sizzle of cheese melting against the hot skillet as it drizzled from the edges. The way her grandmother hummed "My Darling Clementine" as she cooked. Matthew's incessant, stupid knock-knock jokes.

Those rare glimpses into a lost past were too precious to lose. And so Selma had done what Selma always did; she'd made a memory. This time, by marking it on her shoulder so that her grandmother would always be with her.

Elena, of course, knew none of that. Mostly because Selma had never even told her friend that she was adopted, much less that her birth mother had abandoned her ten-year-old daughter and eleven-year-old son in Lakeline Mall with nothing but a pair of matching backpacks with notes pinned to them.

No way would she share that. There were limits, after all. And getting too close only made things complicated. And painful.

"Is that why you popped in this morning? To show me?" Elena pushed the pile of napkins closer to Selma. "Or did you come to help?"

"Actually, I came to talk to your dad."

"Checking stock?"

"Partly." Selma had founded Austin Free-Tail Distillery on a wing and a prayer just over five years ago, and it had grown into a small batch distillery with a nationwide reputation. Named in honor of Austin's famous colony of Mexican Free-tail bats, the distillery's various small batch varieties included Bat Bourbon and Dusk Flight Rye.

Before Free-Tail had exploded onto the scene, though, The Fix and its owner, Tyree Johnson, had been consistently loyal and supportive, going so far as to host a tasting event for her and the company long before anyone in Austin--or the country--had a clue who she was.

"To be honest," Selma told Elena as she helped roll the silverware, "I wanted to tell him my news and ask his advice."

"News? Did Free-Tail win another award?"

"No, but thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Now I'm dying of curiosity. Hang on." She walked the length of the bar to the small section that opened. She didn't bother with that, though, just slipped under, then pulled down two highball glasses and held them up to Selma. "I have a plan to ply you with alcohol so you'll tell me before you tell my dad. Too early for bourbon?"

"Ply away. And you know how I pay my bills these days. As far as I'm concerned, it's never too early for bourbon."

Elena put a golf ball sized ice cube in each glass then poured them both a pre-lunch appropriate shot. Instead of sliding the glasses across the bar to Selma, though, she held onto them as she slipped back under the bar, then headed for one of the two-tops. She plunked the glasses down, then dropped into a seat. "Okay. Tell."

As a rule, Selma wasn't one for obeying orders, but she'd been wanting to share with Elena for days, and she'd been hoping that her friend would be at the bar this morning. "Well, the truth is, I'm moving to Scotland."

Elena had just lifted her glass, but now she put it back down without taking a sip. "You're what?"

Selma tilted her head and eyed her friend. There wasn't a thing wrong with Elena's hearing.

"Wow," Elena said, and now she really did take a sip. "When did this come about? Have you thought it all through? How are you going to run the distillery?"

Selma bristled, and for a second, she considered backing away from the topic altogether. But she knew Elena didn't mean anything bad, even if she did sound a little too much like Selma's adoptive mother. And for years Allison Herrington had been insisting that Selma was the best little girl in the world. Or, rather, she would be if she'd stop being so damned impulsive.

"Of course I've thought it through. I have a temporary gig lined up over there, and after that's done, I can use the cash to fund about a year of traveling around Europe. Maybe even tag on Asia or Australia."

"Yeah, but Scotland? Who's going to run Free-Tail? And where is this all coming from? I mean, it's one thing to decide to drive to Montana for a concert." Something Selma had recently done, to Elena's amusement. "But it's another thing altogether to up and move to another country."

Selma just shrugged. Her friend wasn't wrong. But Selma liked to keep moving. She wanted adventure. New scenery. And since it wasn't going to come to her, she had to go to it.

"How did this come about?" Elena asked.

"Do you remember me telling you about Sean O'Reilly?"

"Is he the one you met when you flew off to backpack around Scotland after college?"

"The same. Although it was more during college. Or, technically, it was after I dropped out."

Elena leaned back with an amused expression. "And? How does he fit into the picture now?"

Tags: J. Kenner Man of the Month Romance
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