Page 21 of Intoxicating Pursuit

“You ready to climb that hill now?” Gabe asked.

I chuckled. “Not even close. Anything more mellow we can do first?”

“Actually, yeah. Come on.”

He righted his bike, climbed aboard, and I followed suit.

We pedaled further down the dirt lane as it veered inland from the creek.

Eventually, the trees opened up along a few hundred feet of frontage, revealing a badly neglected property.

Rusting structures and weeds seemed to wage a battle for dominance over the land.

Gabe stopped his bike, climbed off, and walked a few steps along the edge of the site.

“You take me to all the nicest places,” I joked.

“I know. It’s a mess, right?”

It truly was. Dry, shoulder-high weeds and fresh green overgrowth fell away from the road, overtaking the chain-link fence and “No Trespassing” signs that kept visitors out. The unkempt vegetation crowded the acreage around a collection of dilapidated buildings.

“Do you come here a lot? What’s your sign?” I asked.

“Yeah, okay, very funny.” He stepped toward me. “But look, can you see it?” He squinted and took a few steps left and right. “I guess it’s easier to make out when the leaves drop.”

Finally, he seemed to find what he was looking for.

“Here.” He planted his hands on my shoulders and nudged me over a few steps.

“Stand here and look to the far edge of the property.” He leaned in close and pointed a long arm over my shoulder, identifying a narrow viewpoint between the rusting structures.

“Can you see the water back there? I think this land sits on a wide portion of the creek, and if you look closely, you can make out hundreds of feet of waterfront where the tree line ends. I know it looks like hell right now, but it’s a decent bit of acreage, right on the creek, close to town.

Always seemed like a missed opportunity to me. ”

The proximity of his warm body and deep, husky voice was more than distracting, but I tried to stay focused on what he was saying, on what he was showing me.

In the distance, behind towering weeds and decaying metal, a line of scraggy trees marked a likely edge to the land. Beyond it, the colors shifted, revealing a gap in the greenery. If the creek ran along the tree line, then he was right. It would be a remarkable stretch of real estate.

I tried to imagine the land with the overgrowth cleared, the metal fencing removed, and the creek frontage revealed.

Could the buildings be miraculously renovated, or would it be better to construct new ones, to optimize the view and flow?

Could we salvage historic goods from the site?

As unlikely as it seemed now, the grounds could be a treasure trove.

“What was this place?” I finally asked.

He backed away from me a step. “I think it used to be a lumber mill, but I’m not sure. The old buildings look like they're falling apart, but I think it’s mostly cosmetic. If you drive by in the wintertime, you can see it’s really only the siding that’s a mess. The structures stand tall and true.”

“Hmm. Thinking about a way to get more yummy cider and wine to people?” I turned to flash a smile his way.

“Sometimes. I mean, this is so much closer to town, and tourists could bike here or stop in after a trip down the creek. Might be a good complement to what’s already here and to our business up the hill.”

“Have you run the numbers? Looked at it in earnest?” The gears turned in my head, and I thought about the seasonality, the likely sales, the cost of the property renovation and operations.

“No. That’s not really my side of things. It’s just something I like to ponder.”

“You know, I used to do the scouting for our new locations. Maybe I could help.” Why on earth am I offering this? I had too much on my plate already.

“That’s cool. You guys are all over, right?”

“Mostly the East Coast and Midwest. We started in Chestnut Hill, but we’re always aiming to get a foothold in new geographies.

In fact, we just opened two new locations, so we’re up to seven now.

” I grabbed a sip from my water bottle. “I had actually been planning to scout Creekside anyway. It’s exactly the kind of town we like to build in.

Decent population, pedestrian friendly, some disposable income—which you certainly get when you have tourists.

Plus, it seems like the business climate is good. ”

Gabe flashed a crooked smile. “So, I invited my competition to town to drive me out of business?”

I wrinkled my nose at him playfully. “Or maybe you consulted me to enhance the Creekside food and bar scene. Build the economy? Attract more travelers?”

“All right, all right. Touché.”

I thought of the July financials which would begin landing any day now.

I did not predict good news. I wrinkled my nose and sighed.

“Frankly, though, until I get the new stores straightened out, I really shouldn’t even think about this.

We invest a lot of capital when we start a new place, and it’s never gone poorly before. Numbers so far look sideways.”

“Have you put boots on the ground?”

“Not yet. I know I need to.”

“Well, trust but verify, right? I mean, I come to Creekside because I enjoy it, but I also like to keep tabs on operations. Make sure local management issues don’t fester unnoticed.”

“You’re so right.” I gave the property one last look, trying to decide, but delving into this site would truly be an easy add-on to any research I did for Forbidden Brews.

“You know, if you like, I could probably organize a preliminary site assessment and let you know what I find. We should be able to get some basic information about ownership, tax liens, environmental concerns—some of the first building blocks. Hopefully, that would all be public and easy to procure.”

“Well, that could be really cool. Thanks, Sammy.” His smile showed genuine delight.

I fished my phone out of the little pack attached to the bike, and walked the frontage, snapping a few pictures and dropping a pin for the location.

After tucking the phone away, I couldn’t help smiling.

“Don’t you love an idea like this? People think business is such a cold, money-driven endeavor.

And obviously, profitability is critical.

But really, this is why I like it. It’s interesting and creative most of the time.

It’s trying to bring something to life that didn’t exist before, and sometimes, you get to make the world a little more beautiful while you’re at it. ”

He stared at me, musing, then gently chucked my chin. “You sound like me talking about my music. Getting to be creative. Getting to breathe a little new beauty into the world. Those are some of the big reasons I enjoy what I do. It’s why it doesn’t feel like a job.”

We held eye contact, a warm spark of connection flowing between us, a contemplative smile playing across his lips.

Some people seem to click with everyone they meet, but for me, it wasn’t an everyday thing to feel that little tug of affinity with someone. To find a person who made sense to me and saw a little part of the world through the same lens that I did. I always found it kind of thrilling.

“Come on, Sammy,” he finally said. “Let’s go climb that hill.”

***

I t was so much worse than I’d feared. Our long joyride down would be paid back in spades.

I dropped my bike into the lowest gear, pedaling a steady, dogged rhythm, moving my front tire back and forth to create a switchback effect on the steep pavement, which seemed to attract and concentrate the sun's heat directly in my path.

Trying to distract my mind from my burning legs, I counted away the strokes as I huffed out breaths and slogged up the incline.

Gabe fell behind me, either for moral support or because he was struggling as much as I was.

After an interminable length, the end finally came into sight. The hill leveled out somewhat, and I saw the promise of rest and relief just a hundred yards ahead. Thank God.

But something moved in my peripheral vision. Gabe had pulled alongside me. He looked at me with a wicked smile, returned his focus to the road, and started to surge ahead.

He’s got to be kidding.

No way was he beating me to the top of the hill with some cheap-shot, last-ditch sprint.

I raised my backside off the seat to get more leverage and pumped the last of my strength into the climb.

He looked back and grinned, then contorted his face in a mix of laughter and exertion and got out of his seat, too.

We pumped hard all the way to the stop sign, and he beat me by inches at best.

“ Oh, my lord, are you insane ?” We were both gasping for breath, red in the face, and cracking up. I pulled off to the side of the road, grabbed my water bottle, and downed a few gulps. “I change my mind. You’re a total predator. And you’re trying to kill me. Right now .”

“Guilty. You got me.” He seemed very pleased with himself, laughing between chugs of water, slumping over the handlebars in exhaustion just like me.

“You do know we actually have to make it another half mile to your place, right? We might not survive.”

“Don’t worry. Oscar will retrieve our bodies and inform our families. Is your will in order?”

I laughed and just kept taking greedy lungfuls of air, sure that any moment now, I would finally get enough oxygen.

***

A few minutes later, we staggered onto the property of La Fermata. Only a few cars remained in the dirt lot, and a last person or two trickled out of the main building into the parking area.

I climbed off my bike, leaning it up against one of the trees lining the lot. I took my helmet off and dumped a good portion of my water bottle over my head. “Oooooh. Why didn’t I do that five minutes ago?”

He sidled up alongside me. “You’ve got a good idea there.

” He dismounted, clicked off the helmet, and doused his head with water as well.

“Oh, that feels awesome,” he said in his deep rumbling voice.

He scruffed the moisture all over his head and stubbly beard and looked up again, still with that wicked grin. “I beat you.”

“Oh, please! You cheated! You can’t surge ahead first, then decide it’s a race.”

“ Oooh. A sore loser. Wouldn’t have pegged you for one of those.”

“Fine. You win. Choose your prize.” I rolled my eyes.

He reached over, stroked the hair back from my cheek, and gave my ponytail a gentle twist, holding onto it playfully. “Hmm. . . a prize. I’ll have to think about that.” He leaned toward my neck, and I squealed, yanking my ponytail from his grip.

I squirted a little more water over my head and wiped the sweat off my brow. “Come on. I think we have to walk these bikes back to the cabins. My legs won’t pedal another inch.”

“Yup, come on, pardner.” He draped a hand across my shoulder, another on his bike frame, and we ambled toward the security gate and the dirt road.

I knew he was a flirt, and in all likelihood, I was just going to get stirred up again, only to be left cold.

But at least I understood him now. I could enjoy the tingling heat of his flirtatious touches without expecting anything more.

I walked beside him, my body buzzing and alive.