Page 2 of Small Town Firsts
“It’s where you are, buddy.”
“Yes, it’s where I belong. You have always been meant for more. I wouldn’t trust anyone else to get the Brothers Three Taproom off the ground.”
I rubbed my hand along the thigh of my work pants, my palm itchy and about to turn into a faucet from nerves. “You had plenty of more qualified people inquire about the job.”
“But there’s only one Kira Webb. For years, you’ve been organizing me until I’m ready to saw your tongue off. Who got me to upgrade the cold storage?”
“We need the ability to have longer storage times for the hard cider production.”
“Who badgered me to expand distribution?”
“Justin.”
He grunted. “My brother only got the idea after you put the bug in his ear about those new pasteurizer machines.”
“We could manufacture faster than we can sell in the store. You were leaving money on the table.”
“You mean after I spent it first, as usual.”
I opened my mouth to remind him that we tripled our revenue in two years, but he was already getting impatient to move. I could see it in his body language and general antsiness that was starting to mirror in Storm’s demeanor.
I stepped forward to run my palm down the horse’s velvety nose. “Your master just likes to argue with me, even though he knows I hate it.” He nibbled at my fingers then swung his big head over to my shirt pocket. “You know I have something for you.” I unearthed the baby carrots that were supposed to be my snack, but inevitably became his.
“No, I just know you need to innovate and improve. The taproom is what needs your attention. You’ve outgrown the orchard and you know it.”
I huffed out a breath. “I?—”
“If you tell me one more time that you aren’t qualified, I’m going to kick your ass myself.”
I growled. “You know I haven’t been able to go back to school.”
“You don’t need school, dammit. You have more experience than any kid coming out with a master’s degree, for fuck’s sake. You’re ready to move onto something more challenging, Key.”
I clenched my hands at my sides. “I know.”
“Then stop trying to find reasons to say no and just say yes. You know you’re going to, or you wouldn’t be out here saying goodbye to your damn tree.”
“I have a proposal written up.”
“Good. Show it to Laverne if you have to, but just get in there and make it work. I hired a new cider master last week and he wants nothing to do with the running of the taproom.”
“You what? Without talking to me?”
Beck grinned at me. “See, you’re already invested.”
“Well, if you looked at my proposal, I’d show you the people I’d researched to come in to work with us.”
“And I’m sure there’s a nineteen page dissertation on each candidate.”
“Five,” I muttered. I liked to be prepared for any eventuality. “Two of them came highly recommended. Stanford Lang won best hard cider of New England last year.”
Beck tipped down his hat. “And that jackass wanted triple my budget as his first year salary. I did my homework too.”
“I could have talked him down.” I had a plan to do just that as well as incentivize with a small percentage of profits if he exceeded my projected earnings. Which would be hard to do, so I wouldn’t have to pay him extra until year three at minimum.
“I have no doubt, but I think he’s a douchebag.”
“We don’t have to like him for him to make a good cider.”
