The Sit - N - Spill Chronicles: Brewing

Chapter 3

The next morning, Annie slipped out the door before dawn had fully broken, the sky bruised violet and gray along the horizon. Sleep hadn't come—just hours of watching shadows shift across her ceiling, her mind circling the same question: was trusting Kane Mercer a mistake or her only move? But the council's threats weren't waiting for her to feel certain. They were closing in whether she was ready or not.

The coffee shop in West Brook had the worn-in comfort of a place that knew its regulars. Scuffed wooden tables, mismatched chairs, the kind of corner booth where Annie could tuck herself away from view. At this hour, only a handful of early risers occupied the space, hunched over steaming mugs in that quiet, pre-dawn communion with caffeine. The espresso machine hissed and gurgled behind the counter, a steady rhythm beneath the low murmur of conversation.

She'd ordered tea — chamomile, the same blend she served at The Sit-N-Spill — hoping muscle memory might steady what logic couldn't. Her fingers traced the porcelain rim in restless circles, gaze snagging on the door every time movement flickered in her peripheral vision. Waiting felt like holding her breath underwater.

When Kane finally walked in, he looked calm and composed. Is the man ever nervous? Annie thought to herself. He wore a dark jacket over his button-down shirt, his hair slightly tousled from the wind outside. He spotted her immediately and gave her a small nod before making his way over.

"Morning," he greeted, sliding into the seat across from her. She tried to read him, searched for tells in the set of his jaw, the angle of his shoulders, but he was practiced at this. Practiced at projecting a steadiness that felt earned rather than performed.

"Morning," Annie replied, trying to sound more confident than she felt. She took a sip of her tea, using the moment to gather her thoughts. "You said you'd bring everything."

Kane reached into his bag without preamble and produced a folder thick enough to be intimidating. He set it between them with the kind of care you'd give something that might detonate. "I did. I've gone through the council's records, the bids, everything I could find that might help us get a clearer picture of what we're up against."

Annie stared at the folder. The weight of it felt physical even before she touched it. "What did you find?"

Kane opened the folder, flipping through pages of legal documents, council meeting notes, and land assessment reports. Each page seemed to reveal another layer of calculation, another deliberate move in a game she hadn't realized she was playing. "For starters, it looks like Councilman Davis has been pushing for new developments for months. Probably longer than anyone realized. The land your family owns is prime real estate for the type of expansion they're after. They've already started shifting funds to other projects nearby, setting the stage for a larger takeover."

Annie's stomach tightened as she listened, her fears confirmed in black and white. The documents didn't lie, even when the men behind them did. "So, they're going after my land to make room for more developments."

Kane nodded grimly. "It's not just your land, either. Several other properties in town are at risk. This isn't their first time targeting people who won't sell willingly." He paused, something darkening in his expression like a door closing. "I tried to find out what they're actually planning to build, but even my developer friend doesn't know. They're keeping it locked down tight, which tells me it's something they know will face opposition."

Annie felt a chill run down her spine despite the warmth of the cup between her palms. The secrecy made everything feel more ominous, like standing at the edge of a drop she couldn't see the bottom of. "So what's the strategy if we don't even know what we're fighting?"