SUMMARY
Bryce Andrews, west coast sales director for Global Distillers and Distribution, is tired of the corporate hamster wheel. She needs a change.
A craft whisky trade show offers her inspiration and a chance to revisit Scotland and the majestic scenery of the Speyside region—best known for the “Whisky Trail.” Bryce and her coworker, Reggie Ballard, need to find a wholly original whisky for their international distribution division by visiting a number of small distillers.
A blind curve, a dangling sign, and weed-choked driveway draw Bryce directly into a truly unique opportunity. She discovers a struggling family, a shuttered distillery, and a spitfire of a daughter called home to care for her confused father.
Fiona McDougall—the only child and heir to the MacDougall & Son legacy, had her career teaching in Edinburgh curtailed by fate…or serendipity.
When the stars finally align, the two women work together to resurrect a dream for themselves and the family business—if they can weather the storms of unscrupulous business practices in the competitive whisky market.
HIGHLAND DEW
HIGHLAND DEW
BARRETT MAGILL
SAPPHIRE BOOKS
SALINAS, CALIFORNIA
Highland Dew
Copyright © 2018 by Barrett Magill.All rights reserved.
ISBN EPUB - 978-1-948232-12-8
This is a work of fiction - names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without written permission of the publisher.
Editor - Heather Flournoy
Book Design - LJ Reynolds
Cover Design - Treehouse Studio
Sapphire Books Publishing, LLC
P.O. Box 8142
Salinas, CA 93912
www.sapphirebooks.com
Printed in the United States of America
First Edition – April 2018
This and other Sapphire Books titles can be found at
www.sapphirebooks.com
Acknowledgments
First and foremost, thanks must be paid to my fellow travelers: my brother John, good friend Mandy as well as Bonnie, Mark, and Molly.
It’s taken over two years to put all the pieces together. The research was extensive, intriguing, and quite delicious. The passion, history, and creativity of the distillers in Scotland have for generations, provided the world with the magic of Scotch Whisky.
The work slowed to a crawl until my publisher, Chris Svendsen, put some gentle pressure on me, “I want that book.” Evidently, I work better under pressure, and here it is…finally.
Still, that’s only the first half of the process. The critical work has been done by my crack beta readers. Mary Ann Bosworth has a wonderful eye for incongruence, typos, and just plain stupid mistakes. I appreciate the quick turnaround as well as her encouraging words.
Jane Morrison-my Scottish regional interpreter-went through the manuscript twice and provided me with some very astute observations that made my vision bona fide. She patiently explained the details that added a ring of truth and authenticity to the story. She recently sent me an article about a bartender in the Speyside region who sounded very much like someone who could’ve been in the book. She said the article gave measure to how much research I had done.
Bev Prescott took time to read through the manuscript and give me some wonderful notes. She pointed out weaknesses and strength. I am grateful for her insight and her wisdom.
I would be remiss if I did not give a huge shout out to the endlessly talented and professional Ann McMan and Tree House Studio. Once again she was able to distill (no pun intended) the essence of the story into a magnificent cover. She even created the logo that was stamped on the barrel. That logo has been essential to promoting the book. Of course, she would prefer that I actually distill some Highland Dew.
Most importantly I want to thank my publisher Chris Svendsen, along with Schileen Potter, and Lori Reynolds for their generous support. I’m amazed and relieved by the subtleties missed by so many pairs of eyes. Kudos to the proof readers. I extend Special gratitude for my amazing editor Heather Flournoy—for searching every corner and detail to make this the best story it could be. And she was able to do it with a minimum of bloodshed. Thank you!
The entire team/family at Sapphire Books publishing provides wonderful support.
Special thanks to Melinda Mullet, author of the Whisky Business Mystery series—thoroughly entertaining.
The F.O.W.H Lodge #251 provided stalwart support in the endless task of testing whisky samples. After all, someone had to do it.
As always, these books are for You—the reader. No matter how many hours an author spends writing, wringing her hands, and rewriting; the entire process is for naught without the appreciative engagement of the reader. Thank you!
Slàinte
Author’s Note
I first landed in Scotland in 2000 with three close friends. We spent a week on a special bus tour from Glasgow throughout the Highlands, Inverness, and back through Edinburgh to Glasgow. We then leased a car and spent four days based in Oban doing day trips. It was wonderful.
Back home, I realized I was besotted with all things Scottish because of this trip to the “homeland.” Along with the MacGills, I have some Ogilvies and Ramseys in my DNA.
Five years later, we made the trip again. This time I brought my brother and my friend brought her mom. We rented cottages and a car, and traveled the countryside at our leisure. It was glorious. To this day, I have flashes of that countryside, the people, and the beauty.
It’s been twelve years now, and it’s time for me to pay homage to the small country with such a bounty of talent, genius, and passion.
Come along and breathe the fresh, clean Highland air, the musty drafts, and intriguing scents in any of a dozen distilleries. Malted barley, spring water, and aged bourbon barrels continue to produce “Usighe Beatha”—the water of life.
This story is my tribute to all the Scots who labor to produce this magical Scottish whisky.
Chapter One
“Aromatic, a little floral, slightly smoky.” Bryce Andrews held the Glencairn tasting glass up to the light and then inhaled the delicious aroma again. “Ripe fruit.”
Leo Edelman smiled. “Very good, what else?” Leo, her boss, was CEO of Global Distillers and Distribution and her mentor for the past fifteen years.
The warm malt whisky rolled across her tongue and slid down her throat like silk on silver. She smiled. “This is good. Maybe some baked apple, with sherry?”
“I got much the same.” He swirled the amber liquid around and took another whiff. “I’d like it better with some more age. It’s a good start, though.”
The exhibit hall of the convention center reverberated with conversation, laughter, and recorded video tracks from the dozens of booths. They both put down their glasses as Reggie Ballard rushed up.
“Guess what? A little start-up from Colorado is here and they have an interesting new single malt.”
Reggie had been with GDD almost as long as Bryce. Their shorthand for the company was “god.” Bryce was given a promotion to Regional Sales Manager when they expanded to the west coast nine years ago. With it came a generous raise and more responsibility. Reggie came on board because she was quick, smart, and hungry. Bryce smiled. She was also quite disarming with her slow southern drawl and blue eyes. A stereotypical cheerleader type and surprisingly calculating. The girl had an a
genda for her future.
Leo looked at his watch. “Let’s save that one for tomorrow. I think we ought to head to the dining room for lunch. I’ve got some people for you to meet.”
Reggie looked at Bryce then nodded. “Good idea.”
“Let’s meet in the lobby in ten minutes.” Leo adjusted his expensive wristwatch. He stood about the same height as Bryce at five foot six. His partial baldness, thick glasses, and pencil-thin moustache made him look like a cartoon detective. However, it belied a shrewd, sharp business man who seldom missed a good opportunity.
Bryce picked up her convention registration bag containing swag, program, and a dozen handouts and business cards.
They left the grand exhibit hall and passed under the huge banner for the American Craft Spirits Association 2010 Annual Congress. This was the first time Leo had invited her and Reggie to attend a trade show. This group represented a new direction for them and Bryce loved a new challenge.
****
When they returned from lunch, the Grand Exhibit hall vibrated with the buzz of a chorus of excited conversations. The afternoon session “Bringing Artisanal Distillers to the Main Stage” brought almost everyone to the sectioned-off theater area. Leo engaged the VP of a competitor in discussion, so Bryce moved off to a table and looked around at the faux opulence. It seemed every hotel exhibit hall hired the same decorators. Oddly patterned carpet and gold-and-white-striped wallpaper with alternating fleur-de-lis appliques were illuminated by multifaceted chandeliers.
“What do you think Leo has in mind with this craft distilling?” Reggie sipped her water and doodled on the side of her notepad.
“I’d guess it’s a new market he wants to tap into. I’m thinking this idea would take off in the Far East region. Sam Davis loves this stuff.” Bryce leaned back and stretched her legs. New changes were great motivators, especially when her job got so rote that it felt heavy. Some days felt like she’d been walking through waist-deep water for twelve hours.
The room quieted as the next speaker turned on his PowerPoint presentation which projected on a huge screen.
“After what we’ve tasted today, I think there may be some hidden gems,” Bryce whispered.
“Yeah, I think you’re right.” Reggie turned the page and began taking notes. “You know, you get used to thinking Scotch is all pretty similar. But, just because it’s been done one way for a couple hundred years doesn’t mean there might not be something worth trying.”
“It might be good to work on something new. Time to change things up.” Bryce enjoyed her work, but lately she noticed restlessness.
Reggie smiled. “You mean another change.” She bumped Bryce’s shoulder. “Does this mean you’re done with the relationship-mourning stage?”
A flash of heat covered her face and Bryce clenched her jaw. “We are not going there.”
“Sorry, I was just teasing. Geez, Bry, it’s been almost a year. I can’t believe you’re still so sensitive. She’s not worth it, really. Good riddance to the lying, cheating skank.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re delighted to have Roger Cutler, editor of the Whisky Craftsman. Roger?”
Bryce flipped over the page on her legal pad and took a deep breath. It pissed her off that the thought of Gretchen’s callous action could still punch her buttons. Maybe because they were back in Chicago where it all began. The mental grumbling stopped when the speaker made a comment about artisanal distillers needing to learn better marketing tools to get their brands discovered. She glanced at Leo, who smiled and nodded. They had always had some weird mental connection when it came to business. Like minds, she guessed. His skills with personnel were not quite as impressive. Fortunately, their HR director Glenda Houseman brought considerable skill to that area. At nearly sixty, she reigned as den mother and fire captain. Bryce wished her own mother had some of that warmth. She scribbled a few salient comments and underlined them.
Once the session ended, the exhibit hall came alive with activity. Elaborate and simple booths circled the outer walls, while smaller displays and equipment formed tight aisles. Lights, colors, laughter, and a cacophony of audio and video soundtracks filled the large exhibit hall. Along with the noise and hundreds of bodies, she felt claustrophobic.
Another nasty residual from her breakup with Gretchen. Breakup, hell. She was unapologetically dumped.
Reggie handed her coffee. “You okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just so crowded in here.” Bryce sipped her coffee and let her shoulders relax.
“I have an idea. Leo’s off gabbing again, why don’t we head over to the Colorado booth. It’s in a corner near the exit. It’s cooler.” She touched Bryce’s shoulder.
Bryce appreciated the suggestion. Sometimes Reggie surprised her by being so sensitive. “Thanks, good idea. Tell me why they’re unique?” She followed as Reggie pushed through the crowd.
“It’s a small boutique company started by a husband and wife team. The financial crash in 2008 hit them hard. They took their savings and decided to follow a dream of home distilling.” Reggie pointed to her right. “Over there. The one with the mountain panorama.”
The display in front of them looked almost quaint. A large, paneled panorama of the Rockies screamed fresh air and pure water. Clever. A laptop ran a PowerPoint slide show of their process and equipment. Not original, but attractive in a simple way.
When two customers moved on, Reggie stepped forward. “Stan and Mary Clanahan, I’d like you to meet our Regional Sales Manager, Bryce Andrews. Bryce, this is Stan and his wife, Mary.”
Stan stuck out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Ms. Andrews. Reggie has told us good things about your company.”
“Bryce, please.” She took his hand. “Reggie has raved about your single malt. I thought I’d better get over here and see what she was talking about.”
He relayed what Reggie had told her about the company and included the growth and expansion in the past two years. Bryce nodded and ran some numbers in her head about his sales. He certainly would benefit from better distribution, but they still needed to taste the quality and gauge the consistency.
“I imagine you’d be interested in a little tasting before any more talk,” Stan said. “Mary will fix you up with our two specials.”
Bryce took the glass and held it up to the light. Rich color. She swirled the amber liquid and took a long sniff. Sweet, caramel notes, leather?
Reggie had already tasted and was smiling. “What do you think?”
Bryce ignored her and let the warm liquid fill her mouth. After she had swallowed, she smiled. “This is very interesting.” Another sip. “It’s almost like a Madeira flavor.”
Stan and Mary smiled at each other. To Reggie, Stan said, “She’s good.”
“What? Is that right?”
“For this batch, we did the final aging in Madeira casks. At first, it was a wild idea from our head distiller, but we all liked the result.”
“I can see why. It’s interesting and oddly warming.” She finished her sample and nodded. “We’ll need to get Leo over here, but I think you have a great product.”
“Thanks, that’s much appreciated.” Stan beamed.
Sunday afternoon was the last chance to talk to prospective customers and all three fanned out to offer proposals to the contacts of interest. As planned, they had regrouped in the lobby bar.
“Nice work, team. I’d call this a successful trip.” Leo held up his glass. “Reggie, I’ll give you credit for the Clanahan deal. We’ll see how they manage their first big order and go from there.”
“Thanks, boss.” Reggie toasted him.
“I have to say…” Bryce set down her glass. “This was my first experience at an artisanal distillers group and it exceeded my expectations. This is an exciting new movement in the industry.”
Leo nodded. “I’m glad you said that. I was thinking along the same lines. We’ve got several really good leads from this group, and I’ll be talking to the board about sponsoring
something for next year.”
Bryce and Reggie both smiled.
“Here’s what I’d like you both to do.” He pulled a leather notebook and fountain pen from his pocket. “Before too much time passes and we lose the window of opportunity, I’d like you to make a trip to Scotland. If we have over twenty artisanal distillers here, think how many might be under the ‘registered but still unknown’ category, in the home of single malts.”
Silence as they all pondered the idea.
“When do you want to do this, and how?” Bryce shuddered when she thought of the number of possible locations.
“When you get back to the San Francisco office, gather your team and find out what possibilities are available, and draw up a plan. I want you both on a plane soon. I want regular reports, and I want you to find at least one completely unique single malt—a Cinderella product that can be distributed by our company.”
****
The week flew by as meetings and phone calls to the office in Scotland distilled into a game plan.
By the following Friday, they had tickets and reservations set up and had completed the first leg from San Francisco to Chicago. The two-hour layover allowed some time to navigate the enormous O’Hare International Airport—a living microcosm of the entire world’s population.
The layover gave Bryce the time to make a call. She excused herself from Reggie and chose an empty gate area. It seemed to be the one thing she hated more than the dentist: calling home. When things blew up with Gretchen, her relationship came under fire with both her mother and sister. Her perfect military brother escaped to Afghanistan and was probably safer. But going overseas without calling would be suicidal.
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