Page 18 of Trusting You
“I’m serious. It’s complex and interesting and tart and fun and it’s a pleasant surprise, that’s all.” She smiled and my heart soared. I liked making people happy. It probably sounds silly—maybe it’s a youngest child thing.
“Well, enjoy it. We only brewed it for the summer.” Sours were popular in the summertime. They could be hard to brew and get right. I wasn’t brewing juice, so it had to be perfect. We had spent months figuring out this raspberry, and Cece was right—it really was something special.
She seemed upset. “You aren’t going to make any more?”
“Not until next summer. We have a few kegs left and then it’s done until next year.”
“What about a fall sour?”
“Our fall seasonal is a pumpkin IPA.”
“Doesn’t everyone do pumpkin beer in fall?”
“Yes. Because it sells really well.” I was getting annoyed. I was the beer expert here.
She pushed her hair behind her ears. “Pumpkin is pretty basic right now. Maybe something unexpected. Something fruity and crisp, yet seasonal too.”
Normally, I would get furious with anyone who tried to tell me how to run my business. But Cece was genuinely brainstorming and I liked it. Her mind was whirring around and I could see her thinking critically about beer and the marketplace and our business. Although I hated being told what to do, I was at least marginally interested in what she had to say.
“Okay. So I’m sure your pumpkin beer is great. But maybe something else, like a super limited edition that we can promote on Instagram or at a local festival. Something small batch and really unique.” She got up and started pacing around, sipping her beer and thinking.
I liked this idea. She was right. From a marketing perspective, it would be great to have something exclusive and special that we could promote. She was already thinking like a marketer and I respected her for it.
“What about cranberry?” I suggested.
“Could you do a cranberry sour?”
The wheels in my brain were turning, and I could already taste this hypothetical beer. Something about her brought out my creativity as well. “Something cloudy and tart with maybe hints of some kind of fall spice, like nutmeg? So you get the fall seasonal but as a sour—which there are far fewer of on the market.”
“Yes.” She pumped her fist. “I am envisioning a rollout campaign—we can blast social media, have an unveiling event here at the brewery when we tap the first keg, really get all the beer snobs excited.” She continued to pace, and I could see the excitement in her eyes.
I had to stop my jaw from hitting the ground. This woman was forty-eight hours into the job and already figuring out how to brew, promote, and sell specialty beers? I couldn’t decide if I was angry or enamored with her. On one hand, it was actually an awesome idea. On the other, I had devoted my entire adult life to brewing beer. I was the expert here, but she was really onto something.
I took out my phone and started jotting down notes in my app. She was bouncing around, so excited about this idea that I couldn’t muster up the energy to shoot her down. “Okay. It’s a good idea. Let’s take it to the team during Monday’s meeting. It might not be possible. I have to talk to Karl and then try to source cranberries.” The more I thought about this, the more fun it sounded. A special, limited edition beer? Maybe for Thanksgiving? We could brew a small amount and then hype it up. I jotted down some more notes in my phone. We could divert some bandwidth to this as a special project to see if the concept could work.
As difficult as it was for me to admit, she certainly brought new energy to this place. “You may be onto something, Cece.”
She beamed at me. “I’ll drink to that.”
I held up my glass. “To a really busy and successful Saturday night and new ideas for the future.” We toasted and sipped our beers. It was nice, sitting here with her.
“So,” she said after a few minutes of silence. “If it was such a great night, why do you look like you’re going to vomit?”
“I’m just a bit stressed.”
“Care to elaborate?”
I hesitated for a moment. I never talked about this stuff. Not even with Callum, who knows the full extent of my financial situation. I wasn’t one to open up and talk about my feelings, but there was something about Cece that made me feel like trying. “This place is doing great, but not great enough. The overhead for a brewery is so high, and I’m struggling to pay back some of the loans I took out to open the place. It’s not enough to brew amazing beer. We need gimmicks, and additional revenue streams, and all kinds of shit to make money.” I took a big gulp of my beer to stop from saying more. Why was I pouring my heart out to this girl? I needed to get it together. “Sorry. I don’t want to dump this all on you.”
She looked at me curiously. “I get it. It must be a ton of pressure to do this. Lots of people depend on you and you are out here living your dream every day, but you have to live with the constant stress.”
“Yeah.”
“I would be terrified. But I think you’re really brave.”
“Ha! Brave? Not exactly.”
“No, I mean it.” She leaned forward, and her face was illuminated by the firelight. She looked so beautiful. “You are only what, thirty-two?”
