Page 21 of Trusting You
I shot him a look. “Have you been to any of your competitors lately? Go to Cambridge or Somerville or Portsmouth right now. Breweries are packed with families on weekends.”
“That’s a good point. People with small kids need all the alcohol they can get.” I didn’t know whether Shane had kids, but he had a general air of exhaustion that made me suspect he might.
“Exactly,” I said excitedly.
“But won’t we have to serve food and other stuff too?”
“Yes. Thank you, Trent. I have a plan for that. Havenport and the surrounding area has a robust food truck scene. We can coordinate with some food trucks to park in the parking lot on weekends. We can negotiate a percentage of their sales and then people will stick around longer and order more drinks if there is also food available.”
“Okay, but are the food trucks willing to do that?”
I flipped to the next slide of my PowerPoint. “Here is a list of the fifteen most popular food trucks in the greater Havenport region and their contact info. If you guys are on board, I plan on reaching out ASAP to start scheduling them for weekend shifts. We will promote them on our social platforms and they will agree to do the same. Given the market research I did, I think we can ask for fifteen percent of their sales in exchange for parking in our lot and promotion. I am going to make some calls and see what I can negotiate.”
I walked them through my other ideas—upgrading the patio seating, a dog friendly area, senior night, and pursuing more events like weddings. Everyone got excited about my ideas and pretty soon everyone was brainstorming ideas around the table.
The only person not contributing was Liam. If anything, he looked angry. My research was sound and my ideas were good. I knew that. What was his problem?
He waited for everyone to quiet down before speaking up. “This is great, Cece, but most of what you are proposing sounds expensive. I would love to upgrade the outdoor area to accommodate more seating and be a fun space, but that is going to cost a ton. And weddings? You need some really jaw-dropping visuals to get wedding business.”
“I don’t disagree, but I also think many small changes can be inexpensive and still yield big results.” I flipped to the next slide where I laid out some ideas for upgrades and cost ranges. The brewery was an incredible space, and my suggestions were just a few small things to create more opportunities for people to love it.
“Yeah,” Mark piped up. He seemed like a thoughtful, quiet type. In his late forties with close-cropped salt and pepper hair, he gave off a very mellow dad energy. “My wife is an interior designer. She is able to get all kinds of things wholesale. She would love to get her hands on this place.”
“Awesome.” I leaned over and high-fived Mark, who looked sheepish. “I think we could do a lot of this cheaply and really spruce the place up.”
Kyle jumped in. “My aunt Gail owns the garden center.”
“Gail who is married to Mayor Liza?”
“Yup. They are my aunts. They are super invested in the town. I bet we could get trees and shrubs and stuff from her at a discount.”
“Kyle, that is amazing.” I was beaming and feeling so elated. I really was part of the team. They were embracing me and my ideas. Liam was going to be harder to win over, but for the first time in a long time, I felt up for the challenge.
13
Liam
Allowinghurricane Cecelia into my life and my business was proving to be quite disruptive.
The Cecelia standing before me with a tape measure and a clipboard was nothing like the defeated woman who came here and begged me for a job three weeks ago. Clad in jean shorts—oh my God, those shapely thighs—and a Binnacle Brewing T-shirt, she was directing people around and taking measurements. Part of me was terrified. I had never given up control like this before. But I had never had a marketing dynamo come in and whip my ass into shape either.
The guys were more energized than they had been in months. Karl was brewing up test batches of root beer for our kids’ events and Mark was at work on updating our logos for new T-shirts and merchandise to sell at Oktoberfest. We were brewing our assess off, working on our seasonal beers and upping production to hopefully cover for the expanded taproom hours. Cece had convinced me to expand the hours starting this weekend, giving us only a few days to make a ton of upgrades to accommodate the extra customers, not to mention the specific areas for kids and dogs that she insisted were necessary to the survival of my business.
Speaking of the devil herself, she was currently doing a walk-through with Ellie, Mark’s interior designer wife. A tall, icy blonde with a large designer handbag, she was a bit intimidating and nothing like I expected for artsy, tech nerd Mark. But she seemed really smart and was very excited to help us out.
“You guys are doing me a favor,” she insisted. “I am trying to branch out from homes to more commercial spaces. This is going to be an awesome project for my portfolio. I think you have a great space here and only need a few tweaks. The big issue is lighting. We need to highlight the industrial nature of the interior space and soften the transition from the taproom to the brewing floor. I think some lighting tweaks and a few other flourishes can make things work. I am going to swing by my lighting supplier later and see what I can get you at wholesale.”
Cece grabbed my arm excitedly. “Liam, this is going to be so great!” I tried to ignore the zing I felt when she touched me. It happened every damn time. And sometimes I would catch a whiff of her lavender shampoo and spend the next hour trying to get another hit. All in all, “Operation Ignore Cecelia” was not going well so far. My brain respected and trusted her, but I could not stop my body from wanting her.
“Come see how things are going outside.”
She steered me toward the back patio where Trent was unloading one of our trucks with Kyle. The truck was stuffed with what looked like fancy picnic tables and Adirondack chairs. She gestured with her free hand while her other rested comfortably on my bicep. “We are setting up a few designated seating areas over here,” she said, gesturing to part of the yard that had previously been dead grass and leaves. “And tomorrow we are installing the string lights and some path lights back up to the building for safety in the dark.”
“You really think this will work? People will want to hang out here all night?” I looked at her, only a few inches from my face, her hand still gripping my bicep. I had to resist the urge to flex. “Oh, Liam. You have no faith in me. I will have this place filled. Just you wait.”
She whipped around me, letting go of my arm, and I instantly missed the warmth of her strong grip. I wanted her hands on me, anytime and anywhere. It was weird to admit, but also true. I ran my hands through my messy hair. As exciting as these changes were, my inner control freak was screaming out in pain. I wanted to trust Cece, and so far she had not given me any reason not to, but this brewery was my baby. I had been burned before and I was determined to do this on my own. Succeed on my own and, if necessary, fail on my own.
I knew I had to make some big changes before the end of the year. If we could eke out some more revenue and expand our events, I would be able to keep up with the loan payments and float us into next year. This was doable. I just had to keep my head in the game.
