Trouble Brewing (In Ashwood Book 2)
Page 18
As Wade sat in the lawyer’s small stylish office, his hands went from cold, to sweaty, back to cold and clammy again. His own lawyer in Hood River had examined the contract. He felt it was typical of the industry, leaving him few options. Wade hoped a second set of eyes might allow a way out of the entanglements with Coalition Craft Corporation. Perhaps Danielle Evert could find something to give him hope.
“Nice to meet you Wade. I have to tell you, I am a fan of your beer. I’ve even managed to try the new blackberry Sweet Venom. It’s fantastic.”
“Thank you, Ms. Evert, I will send you an invite to the grand opening of the taproom. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”
“Please call me Danielle. I spent some time going over the contract, and as your lawyer in Oregon noted, it is reasonably typical. But a few sections stood out.”
She went on to explain that each year Coalition had the option to renegotiate the expectations required of his brewery. This clause allowed them leverage. If he was unable to meet the production demands, other brewers could be contracted to produce Mosquito’s line. This clause allowed Coalition to maximize profits of their most popular beers.
“Because of this, each year it could become more difficult to extricate yourself from this agreement. In theory, Wade, you may slowly lose control, as their demands increase.”
“Time has become my enemy - on top of everything else.” He groaned. “I feared I would need to move quickly.”
“The buyout is determined by their investment, and a percentage of future earnings calculated on a diminishing scale. One interesting point, there seems to be a more attractive option when an asset is substituted for some, or all of the cash investment.”
“Are they talking about the Taproom?”
“Not likely. As far as I can tell from the financial information, the brewery and taproom already are included in the initial investment. Technically, they are part owners of both, and already have limited control over the operation.”
“Damn. What about my original location, north of Ashwood?”
“They overlooked that property, probably because most brewers transfer equipment to hold down costs. I’m sure they thought it would be left useless and outdated after you moved to the new location.”
“So could that be the asset they are willing to bargain with?”
“Also not likely. It’s not worth enough, and the location is remote. I was wondering, did your father invest in the brewery?”
“No - and he never will. He would like me to return to Yakima and run the farm.”
“That asset is large enough to tempt them into this loophole option.”
He eased back in his chair as the discussion shifted to the ridiculous amount of money needed to escape the contract, his only pathway to freedom. The number, when calculated, was staggering and left him nauseated.
Looking out the window that faced Puget Sound he sighed. If only he could escape on one of those boats skirting across the water. His options were slim, almost nonexistent. Wade thanked Danielle for her help, and her time.
Walking to the garage where he parked his truck, he replayed the details of the conversation in his mind. As he sat in the cab, his mind spun. Coalition seemed to be after one of two things - control, or a physical asset. It did not make sense. Everything he owned was already tied up in the brewery.
After pushing his rattled thoughts aside, he joined Natalie and Seth for a late lunch on the waterfront. The three huddled together to discuss his options over crispy fried fish, clams and fries.
Looking over the water, Wade mindlessly tossed a few bits of food to the diving seagulls. Just being outdoors far away from the pace of the brewery provided a small glimmer of hope. The drive home shifted between silence and chatter as Wade ran through every possible option for escape, but nothing materialized into a solid solution.
***
Traffic jams never happened in Ashwood. The single working stop light in town was more symbolic than necessary. This Saturday, however, Sheriff Jerrod Holden called in his deputies to direct the unexpected influx of cars, trucks and motorcycles.
Fortunately, Ravenna and Linnea prepared the brewery for this heightened interest during the taproom opening. Large white tents stood ready to handle the overflow.
In the future, the Mosquito Brewing taproom planned to avoid food service, but Northside Grill had closed for the afternoon to serve food at Wade’s event. Iris also prepared for an influx of dinner customers following this large well-attended party.
Before the doors opened, Wade stood surrounded by Linnea, his experienced staff, and two new employees. Kyle, a lucky find with brewing experience from Portland and Annie, a close friend of Amanda’s. Wade hollered to his cousin across the hollow room, soon to be filled with throngs of waiting guests. “Seth, can you gather your crew? I’m going to attempt to be eloquent.”
“Eloquent? Don’t start using that language around here!” his cousin laughed. “Just give me a second to find everyone.” Seth came back with Carlos, Kent, and Rick. Their craftsmanship surrounded the staff of the brewery. Both groups waited while Wade attempted to gather his thoughts.
“Mosquito Creek Brewing.” He paused and looked around, taking a moment to absorb the magnitude of their accomplishment. “When I started this hobby in the back of a shop, I never anticipated this. All I can really say is thank you. Thank you for helping me realize my vision. For the work I know lies ahead - thank you in advance.” His small band of friends, family and coworkers applauded. Wade’s smile burst wide. “We’ve got thirsty people outside, time to open!”
Kent and Rick each took one side of the heavy wood doors, and pushed them open across suspended rails. Summer sunlight spilled through the wide opening, illuminating gold tones on the freshly varnished wood surfaces. At the rear of the immense building bright tanks reflected white florescent light.
A local band, Foundry, blasted music from a large outdoor stage. Wade hired the popular group, who graduated with Seth, to keep the party going. A sea of customers charged the atmosphere as they flowed into the brewery. Praises for the construction could be heard echoing through the building, as Ashwood’s residents praised the refurbished sawmill. Wade’s expansion meant promising growth to the local economy.
Rick snuck behind the bar to help Linnea, and whispered in her ear, “Congrats. So much of this is you.” Her smiling eyes thanked him for tolerating the long hours she’d put in on her brother’s project. He wanted to pull her close, but settled for a hip bump and a playful graze over her beautiful round ass when nobody was looking.
Leo and Ravenna had stationed themselves near the brewery. Several people in the industry recognized him. Leo’s presence at the opening added credibility to the expansion. Ravenna attempted to represent both Coalition and Mosquito Creek Brewing in a balance destined to grow increasingly strained.
During a rare lull, she moved close to her papa. She could not remember the last time he looked so pleased. “My student has exceeded his teacher,” he said. “I’m proud of him. He’s a good man.”
Leo had noted his daughter’s affection for Wade the moment he arrived at the brewery. In fact, he suspected a deep connection every time she spoke about the new brewer in recent phone conversations. After spending the past few days around them, her father knew Ravenna was destined to spend her life with this man - however obstacles stood in their path.
“Wade’s remarkable.” She admitted. “I feel lucky to know him.” Her voice caught in her throat, and her expression softened. “If only Coalition weren’t part of the reason we met.”
She stepped further away from the crowd and toyed with the cool metal of the intricate raven bracelet wrapped round her wrist. Recalling the risk she was taking, and all she could lose, she whispered, “I’m afraid, Papa.”
His sympathetic smile and quick embrace reassured her. “Wade is a man you can trust, and you must also trust yourself.”
His strong hands held her shoulders square. �
��Ravenna, we cannot control those things that bring us together, but we can control if they tear us apart.”
Her father added a reassuring squeeze to her shoulders, before moving to divert a group headed in their direction.
***
Amanda helped Linnea open another box of Mosquito Creek tank tops and t-shirts. Growlers, mugs and bandanas flew off the shelves as fast as they were restocked. Linnea wrapped another mug for a customer and placed it in the bag emblazoned with Mosquito Creek Brewing’s logo. “Amanda, I’ve run out of tape for the cash register. I know there’s a stash in the cabinet in the Whitewater office.”
“No worries, I’ll hurry and find it.” Amanda dashed out the back, and took a deep settling breath. Her ears buzzed with the instant change of volume. “Who knew this could be so insane?” She said to herself as the din of the taproom echoed behind the old mill complex.
She jogged across the gravel and slid quickly into the rear entrance of Whitewater Homes. Other than security lights the place was dim. Sunlight streamed from the large office windows casting long bands of light her direction.
Amanda paused as she caught movement in the office, and wondered if someone had run the same errand, but beat her here by a moment. A dark haired man sat in front of the computer. He leaned forward, fingers moving rapidly across the keyboard, scrolling through columns of numbers.
She stopped. She knew him. What was Steven doing in her office? On the double monitors, several screens remained open. Amanda grabbed her phone, and snapped shots of Steven as he looked over documents. As he inserted a thumb drive into the computer, she took another photo. Amanda hurried to send a message first to Seth and a second to Kent, then waited in the shadows, hoping one of them would see her text.
Emergency in Whitewater office, please hurry. Kent and Seth weren’t standing far from the stage. The band was covering another country song. Their eyes caught as they moved simultaneously toward the office. Natalie noticed the concerned expression in her fiancée’s eyes and instinctively followed, snagging her brother’s sleeve as she passed by.
“What’s going on?” Seth asked Kent as they moved with speed toward the office.
“No clue, just got a text from Amanda, I’m guessing you got the same one?” Kent said, picking up the pace.
Natalie and Ben trailed a few steps behind. “Something is wrong, Ben. I’ve never seen Seth look so worried.”
Two large men passed in front of the windows of the Whitewater office. “Fuck,” Steven growled, and snagged the thumb-drive, sliding it in his pocket. He stood and moved toward the door. He laughed at the sight of Amanda’s small figure blocking his escape.
“Get out of my way, Amanda.” He sneered.
“Not moving, asshole.” She snapped back at him, her hands grasping the frame of the door. One city boy didn’t scare her - not after growing up with three large intimidating brothers.
A voice filled the space behind him, and Amanda smiled. “Have a seat, Steven.” Seth said filling up the office with his angry presence.
Kent had circled to the other door, and pulled Amanda to his side. She inched away. In her current state of mind, she did not intend to be coddled.
Steven taunted with a laugh, and took a seat in front of the computers again. Seth, Kent, and Amanda stepped into the office - the space seemed to shrink around them. Ben didn’t have any idea who this guy was, but instinct took over and he moved to block the door with his body, his sister standing next to him.
“Before I call the sheriff, do you want to tell me what the hell you are doing in my office?”
Steven spoke evenly, his expression steady. “The authorities would be a waste of time. Do you think Wade needs bad press to celebrate the grand opening of Mosquito Creek Brewing?” His air of confidence added angry fire to Seth’s gaze. Kent took a step forward, longing to plant a fist directly across Steven’s arrogant smirk.
“After looking over some enlightening financial records, Seth, it has come to my attention that your investment in Mosquito Creek Brewing entitles me to information held in your computers. Full disclosure of investors has always been a requirement of Coalition. Hiding this key financial information places Wade in an unfortunate position. A breach of contract, where you, Seth, now find yourself entangled.” Steven stood, “If you will excuse me, I will be rejoining the party.”
“You’re not moving a damn inch.” Kent said, his fists and arms flexing, anticipating the crunch of bone and flesh under his knuckles.
Seth turned to Natalie and calmly asked, “Natalie, could you go find Sheriff Holden, and ask Danielle Evert if she could join us?”
“I’ll just be a minute.” She said as she turned to locate her lawyer and local law enforcement.
Steven’s eyes narrowed and threatened. “Do you really intend to ruin this Grand Opening with the scene of flashing lights and small town cops putting me in a police car? Wade has press here representing outlets from Seattle to San Francisco.”
“Give me the jump drive.” Seth growled out, holding his hand a few inches in front of Steven’s nose.”
***
Natalie cut through the crowd. A growing sea of people filled the space directly in front of the stage. She spotted Seth’s parents. Bill spun his wife, her skirt twirled out as she laughed aloud. They caught Natalie’s eyes, and she waved, masking her tension.
Past the dance floor, Natalie located Danielle Evert, her lawyer and close friend. The sheriff was nowhere in sight, probably dealing with the growing traffic. Danielle’s smile widened as she approached. “Natalie, what a success. You must be so thrilled with the turn out!” She looked so different. Jeans and a flowing blouse replaced her sleek pencil skirt and blazer.
“Danielle, I’m afraid something has come up. Would you mind following me?” Nate said as she pulled her away from the noise of the drums and rhythm guitar.
“Sure, how can I help?” She said, following close behind. While the two women scurried between a maze of cars and pickups. Natalie quickly fed her lawyer information as they dashed toward the office.
In those few moments, Danielle transformed herself from partygoer to legal advisor, and walked into the midst of the fray mustering as much authority as she could. She felt a little exposed without the armor of professional clothing, but proceeded to help her friend.
SEVENTEEN
Leo finished talking with a group of beer enthusiasts from northern California. Three more men took their place, longing to pick up any tips they could from the legend, Leo Silvestre. She could tell her father would be occupied for quite a while. “Papa, I’m going to see if Wade needs anything,” she said before dashing away.
She found Wade in the recesses of the brewery, surrounded by a group of local men. Gleaming silver tanks towered overhead. Ravenna smiled, recognizing Frank, the older gentlemen, who had witnessed her rough arrival into Ashwood.
He spotted her and turned. “Well here she is! The young lady we rescued along the road. I’ve heard so many terrific things about you,” he said. She glanced between Wade and Frank. “How are you adjusting to life in our small town?”
“Ashwood is lovely. Thank you again for your help when I broke down a few months ago.”
“Happy to help,” Frank smiled. “Looks like you two have put together a fine operation here. It is such a welcome addition to the community. Wade we all know you could have saved a lot of money and headache by taking this brewery to a more convenient location. We all appreciate your loyalty to Ashwood.”
“I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.” He meant it. Wade loved this small town.
Patting Wade on the back, Frank congratulated the pair again, and moved toward the taproom, leaving Wade and Ravenna in relative quiet, midst the mechanized hum of the brewery. A large industrial fan spun far overhead, splashing Ravenna’s dark hair in a faint kaleidoscope of changing shadows and light.
Without thinking, Wade settled his arm comfortably around Ravenna’s shoulders, and tucked her petite b
ody to his side. The movement felt so natural that she responded, easing into the hard plane of his chest. He leaned his head down and inhaled a bit of her scent.
With his head bent over her, he whispered into her ear. “This could not have happened without your help. No matter what happens between Coalition and me, it was worth it. I feel like you were meant to be here - to be part of my life.”
He saw, for the first time, his gift as it slid across her wrist. “You wore it.” His low possessive whisper held her in his power. Wade grasped her hand to take a closer look at the cool metal laying over her smooth skin.
“Wade thank you, it’s beautiful, so perfect.” He turned her open palm to his lips and pressed a soft kiss in the center.
Ravenna pivoted slightly closer. Her hand coming to rest on the flat plane of his chest, and he released her wrist as she faced him. She was so petite, Wade longed to pick her up and carry her out of the building, far away from the celebrating throngs.
He eased his hand from her shoulder to the sway of her neck and slid his thumb across the sensitive spot at her hairline. She whispered softly, “If only we had met years ago.”
He finished the thought. “We came so close Ravenna. I missed knowing you, then, by only a few days. Everything might have been so different.” Confirming her suspicion, she nodded, knowing fate had recklessly tossed obstacles in their path.
His control snapped. Wade succumbed to her irresistible pull. He placed his hands on either side of her flushed cheeks, and pulled her trembling lips to his, soothing her with careful attention. Ravenna moaned softly, opening her lips when he teased his tongue across the wet seam of her full mouth. He tasted her for a moment more, and pressed one last desperate kiss, before he forced himself to pull away.
The loss of contact as they separated sent a shiver down Ravenna’s body. Her eyes locked on his, then widened as she soaked in the consequences. Wade longed to cover her mouth to stifle the words he knew were coming. “I’m so sorry, Wade…we…shouldn’t have.” She stammered, and turned to run from the glowing coal of passion that burned her with a white-hot flame.