Page 29 of The Havenport Collection

Cecelia

T rent leaned on the bar, gently drying glassware, his large body almost balletic behind the bar. Every movement was deliberate and efficient.

“You are really good at this, you know.”

“Thanks. I’ve been bartending for a long time.”

“How long?”

“Well, I started as soon as I turned twenty-one. Before that I worked as a barback in high school. As soon as I got a work permit at sixteen I went and applied for a job. Then I graduated up to bartending once it was legal. Bartended full time while I went to Tech and then started working here four years ago with Liam and have never really stopped. Pulling pints is a hell of a lot easier than mixing complicated drinks though.”

“Well, you clearly know what you’re doing.”

“Thanks.”

“What about you, Cece? Do you know what you’re doing?” His ever-present smile faltered a bit.

“Behind a bar? Mostly. I have bartended a bit, mainly in college and in my early twenties.”

“No, I mean with Liam.”

“I am not sure what you mean.” I started to feel defensive. Why was he asking me about Liam?

Trent stopped cleaning the bar and propped himself on his elbows. He stared directly into my eyes, his face serious. “Listen, Liam is my best friend. The Quinns are the closest thing I’ve ever had to family in my life. I love them all deeply. Liam is a good guy.”

“I agree.”

“So don’t buy his bullshit. He is crazy about you, and I just don’t want to see his heart get broken when you leave town.”

I wanted to be offended. I wanted to get mad. But Trent, with his good-natured manner and sweet dimpled smile, was just a loyal friend. And I knew he had a hard time growing up and was extra protective of the people he loved. In fact, I admired him for it.

“I appreciate your concern, Trent. But it’s not like that. Liam and I are just casually hanging out, and he knows I’m planning to leave. I am helping out here while I figure things out.”

“We are grateful for your help. Things have improved significantly since you came in and started making changes. It’s hard for him to admit he needs help, but he really respects and values you.”

I could tell what he was thinking, so I beat him to the punch. “Because I’m sleeping with him.”

He at least had the good sense to look offended.

“Jesus, woman, no. It has nothing to do with that. You are smart and dedicated, and we all respect the hard work you’re putting into improving this place.

I don’t know what he’s paying you but I guarantee it’s probably a fraction of what you’re worth. So thank you.”

Put away the knives, Cecelia. He is being kind.

“You’re welcome. What about you, Trent?”

“What about me?”

“What’s your plan? I know you are a machinist. What are you doing brewing beer?”

“I went to technical school and got certified, and I use that certification frequently. But I had an opportunity to do something I love and support my best friend, so I learned to brew, and I’d like to think I’m pretty good at it.”

“No complaints here. But what else? It’s awesome that you are supporting Liam’s dream. But what about you? What is your dream?”

He went back to wiping down the bar, probably to avoid answering my question.

I sat and waited until he replied. “I’m not sure.

It probably sounds crazy to you. But I really want to go to college and finish my degree.

When I aged out of foster care, I had very few options.

Mr. and Mrs. Quinn kept me on the straight and narrow—helped me graduate high school and get into technical school.

I am so lucky compared to most kids like me. ”

“But you want more.”

“Of course I do. Doesn’t everyone?”

“Probably. But you could do it.”

“I know I could. I take one online class every semester. I am studying business administration. But I would just love to have more time to devote to it. Actually earn my bachelor’s, you know?”

“Of course. I get it. What’s stopping you? I know Liam would be flexible here.”

“I know. I just feel embarrassed. I have a good life, I have a good job, things are fine. I feel greedy asking for more.”

Trent was one of the most loyal, hardworking people I’d ever met. “You deserve so much more and you don’t even realize it. Portsmouth State is a really good school and only twenty minutes away. I am sure you could apply for January admission if you want.”

“I’ll think about it.” He continued wiping, avoiding my gaze.

“You know, if you need help applying or getting your paperwork together to transfer your credits, let me know.”

He looked up and smiled. “Really?”

“Yeah, you know me. I’m a nerd who loves paperwork.”

“You’re okay, Cecelia Leary.”

“Why, thank you,” I said, giving him an exaggerated bow.

“Just don’t break my best friend’s heart and we’ll be good.”

I smiled at him and nodded, feeling a weight settling into my stomach. What if he was right? What if Liam was getting attached to me when he had insisted he wanted casual?

After my unnerving conversation with Trent, I went searching for Liam. For reasons I could not explain, I needed him. I eventually found him in his office with his head in his hands.

I walked over, and he pulled me into his lap and wrapped his strong arms around me.

He nuzzled my neck and asked, “Do you feel like some coffee? I need a fresh cup.”

“Sure. I’ll grab it for you.”

After coming back from the kitchen, I settled onto the couch in his office and waited. Something was clearly bothering him. His back was slumped, and those gorgeous blue eyes lacked their usual sparkle.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

He looked at me quizzically. “What do you mean?”

“You seem really stressed, and I want to help. Spill it.” I blew on my mug of hot coffee and waited patiently. I knew Liam enough by now to know he held everything tight to the vest, but I also knew that it would feel better to unburden himself. So I settled in and waited.

He seemed to be debating with himself. “I don’t want to bother you.”

I shot him a look. “Really? Because you didn’t have a problem bothering me at five a.m.”

“Well, yes, my cock was aching for you. It was worth it, no?”

I gave him a big smile. “Definitely worth it. But I’m not sure about the shower afterwards.”

He jumped up from his chair, sloshing coffee on the hardwood floor. “What? You were screaming my name for like five straight minutes while I went down on you with the showerhead.”

I laughed. “Calm down. I was just kidding. And you’re right. It was incredible.” Actually, his tongue plus the showerhead was a religious experience, but I didn’t want him getting too big of an ego. My two orgasms seemed like enough of a pat on the back.

“Thank you,” he said, puffing up his chest.

“So now that I’ve got you all worked up, how about you just tell me what’s going on?”

He grabbed a paper towel and began cleaning up the spill. He was detail-oriented both inside and outside the bedroom, which was such a turn-on.

After finally sitting down on the opposite side of the couch, he sighed. “I’m stressed about brewery business. Things have improved a lot, thanks to you.”

“Thank you.”

“We are finally getting to a place we can sustain, but we have a lot more to do before we can really grow and expand.”

“How can I help?” I still didn’t know a lot about the science of brewing, but I had learned a lot about the beer industry and its customer base. We were doing well, and I had big plans for next year lined up already.

“You’ve done so much. And it’s not something you can help with. We are just stuck.”

This defeatist attitude was very out of character for him. “I don’t believe you. Whatever it is, we can fix it.”

“The brewery itself is going amazing. Our numbers are way up, and our events are providing so much income as well as exposure, it’s incredible. But on the distribution side of things, it’s just so hard.”

I let him continue. “The big distribution companies are hard to work with. We are such a small brand that they spend all their time and effort pushing the large national and international brands. It’s very hard for craft breweries to get wider distribution for this reason.

It’s an old-school wholesale model, and these companies and account reps take advantage of the little guys.

Lifetime contracts, lots of limiting regulations about selling your own beer, and loss of control. ”

“Is there any way to get around this?”

“Not that I know of. The other problem is that there is a huge legal gray area. A lot of the big distributions engage in pay to play.”

“You mean you have to pay them to sell your product?”

“Yes. In addition to the huge percentage of the sales, we have to pay them kickbacks on top of that just for placing our product, and sometimes even kickbacks to the retail store or bar for stocking the product. When you are small like us, it makes it really hard to compete. A corporate manufacturer can line everyone’s pockets to make sure they are fully stocked everywhere. We don’t have that luxury.”

I was pissed. This was some dishonest bullshit. Binnacle’s product was great. They deserved to be served everywhere.

“We’re trying to work within the system. But it’s so expensive and not really sustainable. I’ve met so many brewers who didn’t make it because they got screwed over by unethical distribution companies.”

“But you can’t grow unless you widen distribution.”

“Exactly. So we are stuck between a rock and a hard place. Shane is great. He is an awesome sales rep for the brand, but we can only afford him part-time, and his contacts only spread so wide.”

He took a sip of his coffee. “It’s just not a level playing field.”

“Well, have you thought about playing on another field?”

“What do you mean?”

“You can’t play with the big brands—I get that. Competing with them for distribution is difficult, especially if the people you pay to distribute your beer don’t have your best interests at heart. So create a new field. For yourself and others like you.”

I got up and started to pace around. Liam was smart and savvy and had a professional network of other craft brewers.

He had the knowledge and the contacts to actually do something about this problem.

“Why not build your own distribution company? You know every microbrewery on the eastern seaboard. What if you all got together and did it in a way that benefits small breweries instead of disadvantaging them?”

“I have no idea how to even do that.” He didn’t seem remotely interested in my idea.

“I bet it’s easier than you think. These distributors, I doubt they are business geniuses.”

“No, they are not.”

“You are smart and you have connections. Doesn’t your family business involve distributing perishable goods?

He smiled. “Oh, right. Declan does oversee the distribution of fish all over the Northeast.”

“Bingo!” I shouted. “He could help. He knows all about distribution networks.”

“I can’t ask for his help.” His face was firm. For a few seconds, it had seemed like he was into what I was saying and then he just shut down.

“Why not? He’s your brother, and judging by how much time he spends here, he loves your beer.” I didn’t know Declan well, but underneath the gruff exterior was a guy who loved his family. He clearly supported Liam and his business, so I couldn’t imagine him not wanting to help in some way.

Liam sipped his coffee. His body language was closed off, and he seemed annoyed with me. “It’s a good idea, I’ll give you that. But I don’t know if I could do it. And I don’t have the time or the energy.”

“You could give Trent more responsibility at the brewery while you work on this. He is really smart, and I think he wants to do more.”

Now he looked really annoyed. “So now you are an expert on Trent?”

“No. It’s just he’s capable of a lot more than you think he is.”

“We have been best friends since we were five. I think I know him.”

I started to feel guilty. I had clearly overstepped, and Liam was reacting badly. I just really wanted to help him. I wanted him to see what I saw. I think he could do much more if he opened his mind and accepted more help and outside expertise once in a while.

“Okay, okay. It was just a suggestion.”

He got up from the couch and went back to his desk. “Thanks for your input, but I got this. I’ll figure something out. We have enough coming in from the taproom and events to float things while I figure it out.”

Was he brushing me off? After everything that had happened between us? Or was he just in a bad mood and I pushed him too hard?

I excused myself and headed home. I had a lot of thinking to do.