Page 15 of Intoxicating Pursuit

The Decision

S omething had to change. I couldn’t keep allowing anxiety to govern the boundaries of Meghan’s life. Or mine. I couldn’t bind us all so tightly to home.

Maybe this trip was my chance to break the shell of safety I had built around us the last few years. That carefully constructed protective layer was meant to keep us together, but it clearly wasn’t working.

I decided to pretend I’d made the choice, to trick my body into showing me its true colors. I told myself I was going to North Carolina and figured I’d tell a couple others, too. If I could make it a few days without panic, maybe I could pull this off.

***

T he next day, I caught Marco at the brewery.

He was dressed impeccably, as usual. His dark brown hair was swept back.

His olive skin, high cheekbones, and full lips were a sight for anyone to behold.

I buffed the bar with a wood conditioner, tested and wiped down the taps, laid out fresh napkins, and otherwise got the front of house ready, hoping it would settle him enough to talk.

He still moved around manically, though, setting out new table toppers, checking on the cook staff.

I kept talking, simply following him as he overworked the prep.

“It looks like a pretty cool town, Marco. It checks a lot of boxes. I know I haven’t scouted out a new place in a while, but this could be good for us.”

Business development used to be entirely my job, but that had stopped after the accident—then my own fears—had completely shut it down.

The new Madison and Charlotte locations had been in the works for some time, but Marco had been forced to manage their construction once they got under way. We had nothing in the pipeline.

“Sammy, why are you telling me this? We open in a half hour. I’ve got a million things to do.” His voice peevish, he brushed past me and hustled out of the kitchen.

I followed him anyway. “I thought you’d want to know. I thought you were interested in my life—and the business. What’s going on with you, Marco?”

“I have more to do than I can get done here, Sammy. Staff that constantly no-shows. A wedding to plan. I can’t think about anything else.

” After a minute, his irritation suddenly softened.

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask. We need a down payment for one of the venues.

Do you care if I take my next dividend early? ”

It had been several years since I’d seen him hunting down cash. I looked at him more closely. The whites of his eyes were clear, but were his cheeks a bit more gaunt? Were his pupils dilated? With his face in partial shadow, I couldn't tell. “Marco, are you in trouble?”

“What?” He looked startled. “No. God, no!”

He plunked down at a table.

“Crap. . . I’m sorry. I’ve been a piece of work lately, and I know it.

” He huffed a sigh and rubbed his neck. “The wedding has me really stressed out, and Ian’s not helping.

His work’s been slow, so his paychecks have been too, but he still wants everything to be a perfect—a huge surprise.

Which somehow I’m supposed to orchestrate.

” He clawed his hair back from his forehead.

“Listen, let me take the early dividend, get this payment made, and hopefully that will get the wedding off my mind for now, okay?”

He stopped fidgeting and looked up at me as though noticing my presence for the first time. “Actually, what’s wrong with me? I feel like I haven’t even been listening. Did you say you were going out of town? By yourself?”

Okay, this was more the Marco I knew. I sat down opposite him, leaning forward to rest my elbows on the table, propping my chin in my hands. “Yup. North Carolina. Miles and miles away. All alone.”

He stared at me for a while. I knew what he wanted to say. I’m sure he didn’t want to hurt my feelings or insult me, but history was what it was.

“Are you really ready, Sammy? The last time you tried, it didn’t go well. What if you’re driving when it happens?”

“It’s never happened when I'm driving, and if it happens at all, I'll simply have to pull myself together.” We both sat with that idea for a moment, and I quieted my voice. “I think I need to do this, Marco. I know I’m telling you because it might be good for business, but that’s not the real reason for the trip.

I think it’s important for Meghan’s sake.

If I can’t get more comfortable with a little distance, with being separated from my family, I think it’s gonna backfire.

She could ultimately just run off and never come back. She’s almost an adult.”

Marco sat up straighter, cracked his back. “I hear you, I guess.” He squirmed another moment. “But I don’t know if I can keep doing this. You start these projects, and then I have to step in and finish them. I’m worn thin, Sammy. The business is big enough already.”

“I know. I know. Look, let’s call it an exploratory trip for now, okay? No contracts. No purchases. Nothing like that. I just want to look around.”

That seemed to calm him down. “Fine. If you promise we’re not buying anything, I’ll support you.

I mean, I get the whole Meghan angle, but I can’t tell you that I love the idea of you being so far away, doing the very thing that kicks off these attacks, with no one nearby. It leaves me in a bad spot.”

“I'll be all right,” I promised, my resolve growing. I was already glad I’d decided to tell Marco. Maybe committing to this was what I needed.

But why am I only thinking about myself?

I wasn't the only one at the table with problems. Didn't Marco deserve my support? He wasn’t asking for more than he was owed, just a little in advance. After all, it was his company, too. I thought about it for a moment, but I knew it was right. “Marco, if you need to take the dividend early, it’s okay. I’ll transfer the cash to you when I get home. ”

He gave me a quick hug of thanks and got back to bustling around the tasting room. He watched me from the bar as I walked out to my bike, a look of concern on his face. I waved at him one final time for the morning and pedaled home.

***

W ork consumed the next few days, but I made time to do economic research on Creekside, checking on incomes, population, regulations, and taxes. I even sketched out a preliminary financial model. It felt good to think like this again.

The budget issues deserved a deeper dive too, so I sifted through the financial statements as well.

The new locations, Madison and Charlotte, were indeed driving the sales miss.

The expense surge, on the other hand, was caused solely by the cost of goods sold in Charlotte.

I quickly scanned the transactions but found no accidental charges—mostly hops, flavoring, and barley.

I compared production and input quantities, but no one seemed to be wasting product.

Finally, I dug into price, and that’s when it popped.

A single vendor, HopNBrew, was charging us an outrageous unit cost. Had I agreed to that?

I pushed aside my laptop and called my high school classmate, Debbie. She had grown into an exceptionally fine attorney, and she offered us a friends-and-family rate.

"Hey, mama, what's up?" The exploding popcorn sound of her keyboard clattered in the background.

"Hi Debbie. How are the kiddos?"

"Hormonal, growing like crazy. Devouring food faster than I can cook it." The noise of her typing died down. "How's Meghan? Is she still giving you grief?"

"I dunno. I think we're giving each other grief. But listen, this is actually a business call. I was hoping you could research something for me."

"What is it?"

"Can you check on our HopNBrew contract? I can't remember it at all, and I want to know the pricing and terms. Seems like they're overcharging us. I hope I'm not stuck purchasing any minimums."

"Yup. No problem." Her keyboard rattled to life again. "Is it urgent, though? I'm buried in briefs and research right now. Big corporate case."

Patience wasn't my strong suit, but I tried to cool my sense of urgency. After all, the dollars didn't quite merit an emergency. "It's not on fire, I guess."

"Okay. I'll get back to you as soon as I can. I promise."

I thanked her and hung up the phone, then put a reminder on my calendar to follow up.

A notification pinged—my bi-weekly “New Leaders” Zoom with Jesse and Bobby began in five minutes. I scrambled to the kitchen to top off my ice water, then hurried back to my laptop and logged in.

Jesse joined first, with a sly grin, his dark eyes glinting like anthracite. “Morning, Sammy.” While his thick beard, hemp necklace, and neatly ponytailed dreadlocks pegged Jesse as a Madison native, a surprisingly passionate, Type A personality lurked beneath his earthy exterior.

We chatted until Bobby arrived a few minutes late, flustered and apologetic.

“All okay?” I asked.

“No.” Bobby wiped sweat from his brow, tugging a shag of his tawny hair back in agitation. His brown eyes—normally round and soulful—looked drained today. “AC is out, and the heat’s making everyone nuts.”

“Let me ping Marco. He can—”

“Don’t bother.” Bobby interjected, rubbing his slender, clean-shaven jaw. “I’ve already called HVAC. I know it’s under warranty. Let’s just get this over with.”

Watching stress distort Bobby’s babyface into something more fractured stirred my maternal instincts.

We expected a lot from our leaders, but it was our job to provide the infrastructure.

If he was suffering through a Southern summer without AC, that was on us.

“Hang in there, Bobby. Crank up the fans, and eighty-six the oven-based dishes today. That will reduce heat in the kitchen. Comp cold drinks if you need to. Just keep track of it.”

“Okay, hold on. Let me have ’em kill the ovens.” When Bobby returned a few moments later, his anxiety still seemed piqued.

This felt all wrong. “Do you need to go? We can connect later. These meetings are supposed to help, not get in the way.”

He looked surprised. “Later would be much better.”

“Okay. Run, run.” I waved him away, and he logged off. “All right. Sorry for the delay, Jesse.”

I pulled up the agenda, shared my screen, and we got started.

We reviewed upcoming marketing, discussed online reviews, and began tackling the P&L problems. Jesse seemed annoyed about the sales miss, though.

He said most of the University of Wisconsin students had left for the summer.

“Sammy, didn’t you account for that in the budget? ”

The subtle dig stoked my temper, but I stayed even.

“Jesse, seasonality is considered, but we also plan for constant growth the first two years.” I reminded him that while I handled corporate media, we expected his team to serve as brand ambassadors in the community.

Summertime was perfect for this, and we discussed upcoming outdoor festivals as a great way to introduce Forbidden Brews’ high-quality beer and pub fare.

I tried to help him categorize the challenges and boil them down to actionable tasks. Business was always a puzzle, and as frustrating as challenges could be at the outset, conquering a complex issue with a team could actually be exhilarating.

When we ended the Zoom, I emailed all our local leaders, asking them to avoid ordering from HopNBrew and updating them on ads that would be hitting the Forbidden Brews social media pages over the next week.

My energy was waning, but as the tasks of the day wrapped up, I remembered the early dividend I’d promised Marco.

I logged into the company bank account, only to find our cash balance had plummeted further.

A dull ache began to radiate beneath my temples.

I scheduled the dividend transfer, then backfilled the account for both the dividend and the cash shortfall.

I fixated on the computer screen for another moment, something ominous hovering at the edge of my consciousness. When it came to working with Marco and running a company, difficulties were the norm, not the exception. But I was concerned this scattering of dark clouds might converge into a storm.