Page 17 of Better Luck Next Time

“I’m not going to blow my stack again, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No,” Georgie gushed. “That’s not what I was going to say. I—”

“I’m fine. Let’s just let it go.” She scooped up a basket of props she’d been gathering for a photo shoot, plus a couple of collapsible light reflectors, and headed out the office door.

The tasting room had great afternoon light, it was all updated and shiny, and it held a ready supply of Buchanan Brewery bottles. She quickly got to work setting up several still shots, but then she noticed the handful of customers in the room, some of them watching her with open curiosity, and a new idea popped into her head.

She noticed a couple at a table against the wall embedded with windows. The lighting was perfect and the couple was adorable. They were cute but not overly so. They looked like people you could sit next to and strike up a chat with instead of getting the cold shoulder. If she and Finn were still playing the ‘Who are you?’ game, she’d have whispered to him that they were Walt and Fiona, and it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship over two pints of Beau Brown.

That was when it struck her… River had mentioned more than once that Grandpa Beau’s brews hadn’t lived up to their potential because he’d let things slide over the past few years. The brewery had lost distribution business, but their tasting room had often been full. It was because the people who showed up were friends with Beau and Dottie and all the other employees. They felt like they belonged there. The Buchanans only needed to extend that feeling into their brand.

The Buchanans weren’t just selling beer. People gravitated to the brewery because it felt like home—not the kind of home people had, granted, but the kind of home everyonewanted, with a warm family, a sweet gathering space, and a fridge full of beer. They needed to convey that feeling in their marketing.

Adalia hurried over to Jack’s office and popped her head in the door. (He’d meant it about the open-door policy, it turned out.) “Jack, got a minute?”

His attention had been buried in some papers on his desk, but he glanced up without any sign of impatience. “Sure, what’s up?”

“I have an idea, and I need your help.”

“Okay,” he said, pushing his chair back from his desk. “I’m listening.”

She quickly explained her line of thinking, and his face lit up.

“That’s brilliant, Adalia. What did Georgie say?”

“Well…nothing yet. I haven’t told her.”

“Why on earth not?”

Good question. Because she was worried it would crash and burn? Because she didn’t want Georgie to feign enthusiasm just to bolster her? Or was it because she felt like she’d lost her secret space in Dottie’s garage and this was its replacement? She didn’t want to analyze it. Not right now.

“Let’s just keep it between us for now, okay?” she said.

His brow furrowed. “I hate to keep things from Georgie. I’ve already got a few strikes against me here. I showed up later than I said I would, and I’m not a full-fledged Buchanan.”

She nearly told him that no one was holding those things against him, but there was probably a grain of truth to what he’d said. He just didn’t have as much history with Georgie, Lee, and Adalia as they had with one another. Adalia could blow her top at her sister and know she could come crawling back, and even though Lee was being a total butt, she knew he’d get over it eventually. They didn’t have that level of trust with Jack…yet.

She settled for giving him a warm smile. “You’re gonna be fine, and I’m not going to put you in an awkward position. But can I get you to do me one little favor?”

“What?” he asked warily.

“Will you do a quick internet search for a media release? I want to take some candid photos of some of the patrons in the tasting room, but I need releases.” When he hesitated, she added, “It’s for the social media accounts. That’s all. It’s not a campaign. Let’s see what kind of traction the posts get. Then we can figure out if it’s worth taking to Georgie.”

He hesitated, and for a moment she worried he’d say no. That he’d refuse to help unless she got Georgie to sign a permission slip. But then he turned to his laptop. “How many do you need?”

“I’m not sure,” she said. “Print me ten to start and bring them out to the tasting room.” She hurried back to her spot from earlier, hoping the couple hadn’t left.

Walt and Fiona were still there, so Adalia dragged a chair over, and introduced herself, and asked if they would be open to having their photos taken and posted on the Buchanan Brewery social media accounts. When the woman hesitated, Adalia said, “You’ll get free beer out of it. I know you’re drinking drafts, but I’d like to bring over some bottles so the labels will be in the photo. If you like, I’ll let you see what I’m posting before I put it up.”

“So we get to keep the bottles you bring over?” the man asked with a hopeful look.

“You bet,” Adalia said. “And we’ll top off your glasses while we’re at it.”

“You’ve got a deal,” he said, and his girlfriend agreed.

“I’m Adalia, by the way. What are your names?”

The man introduced himself as Grayson, and she sputtered out a laugh when the woman said she was Fiona.

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