I knew Michael wanted to talk business tonight. He would never so easily agree to going out unless it was to warm me up and talk shop. I’m surprised it took three bar stops to finally bring it up. He’s usually a straight shooter, which makes me think he really wants this.
“Are you sure you want to dive in like this? It’s going to be more than just summer and seasonal work,” I warn him.
“I’m coming back home to be a part of this. Build out more of what you and Everly have already started. I want the summer sports.” He leans back and holds up his hand, stopping me from saying what he knows is coming. “I know. I know. I earn this, but I’m telling you. Help me talk Dad into building out climbing with an indoor wall space and it’ll be a year-round money maker. Plus, it’ll allow anyone who’s local to really work out and hone in on strength and technique in the off season.”
While Riggs Outdoor is an all-season sports business, the winter sports are what I’ve been growing. From expanding into new equipment options, to types of guided adventures like heli-skiing and fat biking. It’s my role to stay in front of trends to pull in tourists, sell the experience, and ensure they have everything they need to have a good time and be safe while doing it. Michael’s interests lie in spring and summer sports; they always have. Hiking is a form of therapy beyond just a sport he loves. He also is naturally great at fishing and guided tours. You name a summer mountain sport, and Michael does it and does it well. It makes sense that he wants to take that aspect of our family business and move it forward.
“You know I’ll support anything you want. I trust you,” I tell him.
“Why isn’t it that easy with me?” Law asks, and I ignore.
“It’s not about you, man,” Michael says to him.
I’m not in the mood to unpack our drama tonight. I came out to enjoy some time with my brothers and not hash out heavy shit with them. Law and I can do surface level these days, but anything more than that, I avoid.
“I figured you’d talk about it if you wanted or needed to, but I need to make sure you’re okay,” Michael says. And I’ve been waiting for someone to. I’m surprised it hasn’t happened sooner. “So are you?”
I nod yes. “I’m okay, but I feel shitty for hurting her. Letting us get to this place where we were talking about marriage, announcing it to people, when I think I knew deep down it wasn’t right.” I look over at the bar again. At the person who keeps managing to turn my world on its axis. “The moment I thought about what I really wanted”—I take a deep breath, because this is as much of the truth I can share right now—“I knew it wasn’t a life with Denise. It’s not a clean break. I mean, I’m going to see her, because of Milo. She wants shared custody.”
Law barks a laugh. “That’s fucking stupid.”
I send him a glare. “It’s what has to happen. At least for right now.”
Michael claps my shoulder, gives it a squeeze, and says, “As long as you’re happy, that’s what matters to me.”
I polish off my beer. “I need another drink. You guys want another?”
“Let’s snag a nightcap at Dad’s,” Law shouts. “He just got that smoker. I want to try an Old Fashioned smoked.”
I nod, looking back. “I’ll close the tab.”
My father started the family business shortly before I was born. He met my mother, fell in love with her, and Strutt’s Peak, though I’m not sure which order is the most accurate, and then all of a sudden, I was on the way. He came here to try something on his own, to not be forced into being a bonafide cowboy with his family’s business, so failure here wasn’t an option. When he found a storefront, he just said, “I’m going to do this.” He was a kid, barely eighteen. The craziest part was that it was a brilliant move. At the time, there were no big chain stores, and ordering equipment online meant making a phone call, not pulling up a website on your phone, and having something delivered within the next two business days.
Tourists flock to Strutt’s for the mountains, snow, and every kind of adventure you can think of when those things combine. Everly and I have plans to make it an empire, and I’m fairly certain when Michael is folded into the mix, we may just be able to accomplish it.
I make my way to the front and a woman’s scream knocks me out of focus. I dart my attention over to the bar and, it is, of course, who I thought it was, but she’s not in distress. She’s flirting. That’s what she does. She’s either shit-talking or flirting. Those are her personalities: an epic bitch-slap or a charming smile. I’ve seen her a handful of times since I’ve known she was alive and well, and those are her two modes, both of which push my buttons.
“That’s absolutely the right type of lubricant,” she yells and laughs at the two men leaning against the bar top. Everyone around her laughing in chorus.
She flirts with everyone and, whether or not it means she takes them home, it doesn't matter. She has that ability to attract people. It’s magnetic. She’s new by Strutt’s Peak’s standards, and the rumor mill loves a precocious bad girl. Small towns are filled with big mouths and even bigger imaginations. So you add the beautiful tattooed transplant into the mix and it’s the gossip train’s aphrodisiac. And yet, people are drawn to her. When she’s not at her shop, she’s inadvertently helping someone.
“We’re heading out, Lou,” I say as I saddle up to the bar.
“Lou, baby!” I hear G croon from the other end.
He laughs. “Give me a minute, Henry. Let me help the girls out first.”
I nod and watch as Everly and G kick back a shot of tequila and then suck on limes. The only reason my sister would be doing shots right before last call is if she’s more than half in the bag.
I watch as Ev jumps down from the bar stool, moving away from G to chat with one of our distributors. I can see my sister flexing her negotiation muscles, which makes me proud. However, the loud blonde still sitting on the bar keeps my attention. I’m pretty sure that the two guys beside her only have one endgame of taking her home tonight, as most would. The problem is, they look like a couple of scumbags. Over-eager tourists looking to get laid. My guess is they're here for business, maybe a company excursion. I know these types; they likely have someone back at home, but while they’re away, they play. They keep touching her, and it’s pissing me off. The last squeeze of her thigh has me moving their way.
“I’d love to see where these tattoos lead. The flowers back here are hot. You’re a colorful little thing, aren’t you…” Such a douchey line. I can’t help but laugh to myself as I get closer. She better not go home with these two dipshits. She’s way out of their league.
The blonde guy steps away from Giselle and turns his head toward me. “Hey, man, something funny?”
Giselle leans back and hops off the bar. “Must have been your creative line, sweetie. Henry doesn’t laugh at much, so I’d take it as a compliment, Thor.” She pats him on the chest. “Isn’t that right, Hanky? You usually only grunt and grumble at people. That, just then, was a legitimate chuckle. You must be feelingreallygood this evening.”
She peers behind me, looking to see who I might be here with, and I can guess she hasn’t heard about Denise yet. News travels fast here, but only if you’re a townie. She’s too new to get the details from Lenny or anyone else that likes to circulate stories. I’m surprised Ev hasn’t said anything, but why would she? Everly doesn’t know who G is to me.