Page 1 of The Irish Rogue

Chapter 1

Amidst the rough-hewn ambiance, the beautiful woman with the dark, brown hair and long, dark lashes sparkled like a star!

Sean Byrne watched as the enticing woman stepped out from the back room and smiled to the bartender. A low, menacing growl was heard, startling Sean since he belatedly realized he was the one emitting the sound.

Thankfully, no other patrons were close enough to hear as he continued to watch the startlingly beautiful woman.

Sean observed the bartender's gaze trailing the enchanting woman, yet her body language communicated a clear lack of interest. With a deliberate effort, Sean calmed himself, relaxing back into his chair. The bartender might harbor expectations, but it was clear that the woman had no interest whatsoever. A satisfying realization settled in: good, he thought.

Startled by the last part of his thought, Sean sipped his beer, absent mindedly tasting the nuanced flavors in the beer. There was a fruity first taste followed by a smooth, almost chocolate essence and then a…coffee after taste? Good brew master, he thought, his gaze following the trim backside of the woman as she stepped out from behind the bar. She wore the black tee-shirt with “The Old Goat” brewery label over her left breast and his body tightened again. For a different reason this time.

She laughed at something one of the customers called out to her, but she didn’t slow down. Her sneakered feet carried her through the large, barn-like room and then she disappeared again, through a different door.

Sean tensed, hoping the woman would reappear quickly. At the same moment, Tom Hutton, the owner, stepped through that same door, lifting his hand in greeting towards Sean.

Sean stood up, reining in his unexpected lust over the now-absent woman.

Time to outmaneuver “dear, old dad”. It was his favorite hobby. Sean’s father was the Earl of something or other back in Ireland. For years, the old man had been trying to expand his operation by buying up breweries in the United States.

Sean wasn’t going to allow that to happen. Sean’s father needed to stay the hell away from his adopted country. The man was truly evil, right down to his funky toenails.

Tom Hutton’s smile was eager and open as he approached the table. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Byrne,” Tom said in greeting, shaking Sean’s hand firmly. “I can’t tell you what a thrill it is to meet you face to face!” he continued, gesturing to the chair. “When my assistant told me that you wanted to speak with me, I couldn’t fathom why. Your business acumen is legendary, but I had no idea you were interested in breweries. I thought that your vast business interests lay in a different arena.”

They both sat down and Sean forced himself to push the lovely mystery woman from his mind. He needed to focus on the matter at hand. “My businesses are quite varied,” he explained. Which wasn’t a complete lie. “But my interest in your brewery is sort of a personal hobby.” That was the absolute truth, although probably not in the way Tom assumed. The truth was significantly more complicated.

Unfortunately, the beautiful woman reappeared, distracting him again. Sean tried to focus on the meeting, but it was a struggle. Leaning forward, he looked across the table at Tom. “I would think the reason for my request for a meeting would be obvious,” he continued, mentally cursing when his Irish accent thickened. A sure sign of his interest in the woman, he thought and firmly pushed the thought away.

Tom shook his head. “Nope. Your interest isn’t obvious at all. You’retheSean Byrne,” he emphasized, chuckling and shaking his head as if awed. “Your business prowess is in massive, struggling companies that you fix and make profitable again. There hasn’t been any news articles about someone like you dabbling in small town breweries.”

Sean shrugged one shoulder as if dismissing his corporate success. “Actually, I own several small breweries in various parts of the United States.” Another truth, but only a partial explanation. “You have an excellent product, Tom. And you’ve expanded your distribution to several new states recently.” He looked around at the “industrial barn” décor. “You’ve even developed a great food service, which brings in the locals, increasing your brand. Your success here in Georgia is very impressive.”

Tom grinned proudly as he folded his hands on the wood table. “I have, and business is good. But you…” He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re Sean Byrne. You buy and sell billion dollar businesses. Why in the world would you be interested in my little bitty brewery?”

Sean shrugged and told another half-truth. “My hobby is beer,” he replied, laying on the charm. “I have a total of ten breweries that produce interesting and unique blends.”

“I thought,” Tom started off, then paused, looking confused. “Sorry, but from everything I’ve read about your business process, you buy up failing businesses, fix them, and then sell them off to the highest bidder.” He opened his hands, palms up. “I’m sorry, Mr. Byrne, but this is a small town. And while there are other struggling businesses in the area, none of them operate within the revenue range you typically deal with. More importantly, my brewery is currently operating efficiently and at a decent profit margin. I won't consider selling it to you if it means you'll downsize the staff and drastically alter the business.”

Sean understood the man’s concern. “First, please call me Sean.” He looked up at the rough-hewn wood rafters and black supports, then back at the older man with a self-deprecating smile. “Formality feels odd here.”

Tom laughed but nodded. “Fair enough. Tell me why you’re interested in a small town brew pub.”

Sean lifted his glass of beer, nodding towards the brew. “Because you have an excellent brew master. The levels of flavors in your beer is excellent.”

Tom flushed with appreciation. “Thank you, Sean. That particular beer, the ‘Pumpkin Maestro’ is one of my personal favorites.”

“And as I mentioned, breweries are a sort of hobby for me,” he continued. “I got word that someone might be interested in this place and I wanted to be the first to give you an offer. I have ten breweries, so far, but I’m always open to other breweries with a great label. However, I don’t buy them only to sell them off later. I buy them for my deep, personal appreciation for the art.” Another partial truth, but this man didn’t need to know that Sean’s purchases of the breweries were intended to be a perverse middle finger to his father.

Tom flushed and lowered his head. The man was in his mid-sixties, but still handsome and his eyes were sharp with intelligence. His well weathered face and hands were a testament to a life well lived. And the calluses on his hands told Sean that Tom was more hands-on than most business owners. That was a sure sign of a man who knew his business inside and out. An excellent recommendation.

Unfortunately, Sean’s attention splintered when the woman reappeared. He tried to keep his eyes away from her, but like a magnet, she drew his focus anyway.

As if on cue, she headed for their table, two “paddles” of small beer flights in her hands. In that brief moment, her wide, blue eyes revealed a subtle hesitation, an awareness that zinged between them. As she adjusted her posture, a renewed, brighter smile emerged, but Sean discerned an underlying wariness in her expression. The encounter left an indelible impression, with both of them acutely aware of the mutual recognition.

Good! He watched silently as she approached, noticed the pink color creep into her cheeks and was charmed.

The mysterious woman continued towards him with an unconscious grace, then bent down to place the flights of beers on the table. Her movements were measured, almost as if she was keenly aware of the atmosphere surrounding them. As she straightened up, there was a subtle tension in the air, a quiet acknowledgment of the unspoken connection between them.

Taking a step back, she maintained a cautious distance, as if navigating the delicate balance of proximity and restraint. She glanced at her boss, but her eyes shifted almost immediately back to Sean. Nervously, the woman rubbed her hands on her denim-clad thighs as she stepped back again.

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