Page 9 of Pitcher Perfect

“I’m not getting anywhere with our outdoor seating area,” Dom grumbled. “I don’t get why the city is being weird about it. The more beer we sell, the more taxes they get. Outdoor seating would be huge for us.”

I was surprised too. The lot next to our brewery was empty and would be perfect for tables, chairs, heaters in the winter, maybe even a firepit or two. It would help us create the relaxed, hang-out atmosphere we wanted to cultivate.

While Dom updated us on the financials, Tyler got up then returned with a fork and the pot full of his macaroni. He winked at me after Dom glared at him. The two guys razzed each other constantly, but they were as close as brothers. Though the four of us were best friends, and Tyler and I were cousins, when we did pair off to hang out, it was usually me with Ethan and Dom with Tyler.

“We’re holding steady and covering our bills, but we’re not seeing the growth we were hoping for by now. The only way we’re really going to take off is to get more visitors from out of town. Dahlia Springs is good to us, but if we don’t cement our place on the regional landscape, we’ll still be living together when our balls are sagging to our knees.”

Ty angled his head. “Are teste tucks a thing?”

We ignored him.

Ethan stuck out his bottom lip and made a pouty noise. “Don’t you like living with us? It’s like college all over again except we know how to cook and clean up after ourselves. Far fewer pubes in the bathrooms these days.”

“Not all of us know how to cook.” I gestured toward Tyler.

His mouth was so full of noodles, they stuck out between his lips. “What?” One of the noodles fell into the pot he held up against his chest like it was his precious.

Dom pinched the bridge of his nose. “You don’t have to share a bathroom with Ty,” he said. “There are still pubes on the floor in front of the sink.”

Tyler shrugged. “Then buy a Roomba. I like to give my partners a certain experience, which requires pube maintenance.”

I laughed into my drink.

“Okay.Our last topic.” Ethan cleared his throat and filled everyone’s drinks with the rest of the margarita while avoiding my eyes.

Ty and Dom shot me nervous glances.

“What? What’s the event?” It smelled like an ambush.

We’d already agreed not to join any ale fests during our first year while trying to get a handle on expenses and inventory. I supposed if they discovered an opportunity for a good one that wouldn’t cost a ton to join, I could find a way to increase production. Anything to help the guys.

Ethan downed the rest of his cocktail. “It’s about Portland Pairing.”

My eyebrows rose. “What about it?” I had a bad feeling about where the conversation was headed.

Portland Pairing was a sore subject for me. It was the event that had launched my dad’s career and led him and my mom to leave me to the mercy of Ty’s parents. Without that competition, maybe Dad wouldn’t have become a sought-after chef and Mom wouldn’t have followed him.Who am I kidding?He would’ve found a way to make his dreams happen. If only being around me had been part of his dreams. My parents shouldn’t have had a child if they didn’t want to deal with me.

“I know we said no beer festivals, but we think this is a great opportunity for us,” Ethan said.

I looked at each of them. “We? So you’ve already talked about it, and this is a trap?”

They stared at me, tension in their shoulders, clearly waiting for me to blow up.

“Why this one? Why now? We could choose to do tons throughout the year.” Ones that wouldn’t involve me having to work with a chef.How could I trust a chef with something as important as our livelihood and future?

“The grand prize includes a prime spot at the winter ale fest, a spot on next year’s Oregon brewery guide, and a prize for an advertising budget. You’re incredible at what you do, Aus. We’ve got a real shot at this,” Dom rumbled in his baritone.

I tugged on the collar of my shirt.Who turned on the heat in May?

“Just think, if we won, we could debut the winter ale you’re working on at the biggest winter fest in the Pacific Northwest without having to pay for a booth. It could be huge for us. The marketing potential is endless,” Ty said.

The winter ale I haven’t even figured out yet?

I reluctantly looked at Ethan. “Who would we even team up with? The competition is fierce.” I didn’t know any chefs well enough to work with them on something like that. We couldn’t exactly join with one of Dave’s maple pecan muffins from the coffee shop.

“Remember that amazing breakfast sandwich you had the other day?” Ethan asked.

“No way. You want me to work with a food truck guy? Come on.”

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