He wrinkled his nose. “But we’d need to open early. So much work.”

I half expected him to stamp his feet like a petulant child. What a lazy son of a… “You can ask some of the townspeople to volunteer. I’m a barista. Not quite a bartender, but I can pour beer and deliver it to tables, and I know how to use a cash register.” I’d be back in the city by then but would come up for the day if it meant sealing this deal.

“I’d help too,” Jennifer said. “You can pay me in free beer.”

I beamed at my new friend. I loved her.

“What do you say?” I crossed my fingers behind my back.

Aaron glanced at his older cousin, who’d been quiet until now. “What do you think?”

Greg pulled his ponytail tighter. “We’re not even German.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, careful to keep my voice steady. “Not everyone who celebrates St. Patrick’s Day is Irish either. It’s an excuse to drink.” I looked to Jennifer, hoping she’d back me up.

She shrugged. “I’m out.”

I jerked my head back. “What do you mean ‘you’re out’?”

“We tried. They don’t want to do it. Want to share a pitcher while we’re here?”

My lips parted in confusion. “No!” I didn’t want to drink ass beer right now. One of Finn’s G&Ts would hit the spot, though. I suddenly missed him passionately, which was ridiculous, considering I’d just seen him the night before and had only known him for three days.

Jennifer glared at me.

Crap. I hadn’t meant to yell at her. I backpedaled. “I mean, not right now. Thanks.” What I wanted was to convince the cousins to sponsor a two-day event. I’d settle for one. Besides, it wasn’t five o’clock anywhere, except maybe Asia, but I didn’t have time to work out the time difference.

After Jennifer left us for a more willing drinking buddy, I yanked my phone out of my purse and searched #Oktoberfest on Instagram, hoping to show Aaron and Greg what they’d be missing out on. Pictures of attractive busty women in low-cut tops and traditional Bavarian skirts instantly filled the page. A lot of close-ups of cleavage. A guy holding a liter of beer. More cleavage shots. I scrolled faster, sensing the cousins losing interest. The images didn’t really represent the laid-back party atmosphere I was going for, and I couldn’t imagine anyone in Pleasant Hollow wearing those costumes. I was running out of ideas. More cleavage. Wait. Cleavage. I shoved my phone in Greg’s face. “See?”

His mouth fell open. There might have been drool.

“You like that, huh?” Of course you do, you pig. “The closest Oktoberfest is in Poughkeepsie. You’d make bank.”

Aaron peered over his shoulder and they continued to scroll. “Check her out!”