Page 6 of Pitcher Perfect

The older man with bushy eyebrows almost as thick as his white mustache and skin the color of terra-cotta barely glanced in my direction. “No, thank you,” he said in a terse tone.

Ethan and Tyler watched him walk by.

“Hey, Frank,” Tyler said.

“Good morning, gentlemen. I hope all is well with the brewery.”

I bristled at his friendlier tone toward Ethan and Tyler.

“Did you leave flaming shit on his doorstep or something?” Tyler asked me after Ambrose was out of earshot.

“No. Worse. I’m trying to rent one of his buildings to open a restaurant. How dare I?” I said, deadpan.

Ethan frowned. “Does he not want you to rent it or something? Do you know each other?”

Tyler gave me a knowing look. “I bet Frank doesn’t want to rent to an out-of-towner.”

Ethan shook his head. “Why wouldn’t he want to lease to whoever will pay the rent?”

Tyler seemed to know more to the story, but I didn’t want to push.

I understood that it probably got old renting to people who continually blew into town then left when they realized it wasn’t what they wanted. I wished Ambrose would accept that my wanting to rent the place was my way of saying I planned to stay. I didn’t know how I could convince him.

“Tyler was born here, but I came to open the brewery last year, so I guess I get it. The townies are friendly, but some can be standoffish toward welcoming strangers as permanent residents.” He looked at Tyler.

“Anything we can do to help?” Tyler asked me.

“If you like the sandwiches, spread the word. That would help a lot.” I didn’t know the guys or feel comfortable asking for favors, but they seemed great. I still had friends in Portland, but it wasn’t as easy to grab a beer with them after work since I moved over an hour away. I should swing by the brewery later in the week and get to know them, at least to know some local business owners so I didn’t stick to Coffee Shop Dave like a barnacle.

As I finished their sandwiches, they chatted about how to raise the profile of the brewery and get more people in Portland talking about them. I was glad I’d said something about recognizing them. They seemed stoked about it.

“We need something like that farm ale brewery in Corvallis that blew up after winning a competition. They’re so popular now that they’re thinking of opening a second taproom.” Tyler held up his phone to Ethan.

An idea sparked. It was ridiculous, but all I could think about was wanting to get that restaurant space.What if I can make that happen while helping the brewery?“I know of a competition that’s still open for entries.”

“Which one?” Ethan asked.

“Portland Pairing.”

Ethan’s eyebrows pinched together. “That one sounds sort of familiar.”

“It’s pairing a dish and beer. A brewery and a chef or restaurant or, uh, food truck enter a dish and beer together. The prizes are pretty amazing. A few of my food truck buddies have entered before,” I said.

“I’ll Google it.” Tyler began tapping on his phone.

“Food trucks, you say?”

I nodded at Ethan as I wrapped their food and passed the sandwiches to him.

“Oh, shit, E. One of the prizes is a lead spot at the winter ale fest in Portland for free. That would give us so much exposure! It looks like there’s free advertising in several publications and inclusion in the Oregon Beer Trail program.”

Seeing such fierce concentration on Tyler’s face was odd after his silliness and flirting.

“Seriously? That would be a game changer for us.”

Tyler frowned. “Oh shit. It’s the one—”

Ethan’s eyes went wide. “Austin.”

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