Page 71 of Small Town Firsts
“She is always a handful. Her manager’s family owns half of Happy Acres.”
“No shit? That frosty blond? The one that looks like a Barbie and an ice queen had a baby?”
“Lila, yes. Rockstars are in and out of the orchard all summer. Our opening night coincides with Ian Kagan’s concert here in late August.”
“Huh. Ain’t that some shit.”
I stuffed down the urge to smile. I was getting to her. “Let me show you the patio.”
She glanced around the dining room with a more shrewd eye before following me out the patio doors. It was a cooler day and we’d opened both the garage bay doors as well as the folding glass paneled doors for a breeze.
“The barn over there is our workshop for ciders. It’s the main focus for the taproom and what we are here for. We’ll be branching out into moonshine hopefully in a few years. We do small batches now, but we’re hoping to distribute soon.”
“Moonshine, huh? Like grandpa in the basement?”
“No, Hayes Manning is quite the chemist there. But moonshine still has a lot of red tape and we have to make sure it turns a profit before we dive into that.”
“Gotcha. I can’t say I’ve ever had one I liked.”
“Then you haven’t tried his Apple Pie Moon. Doesn’t even taste like alcohol.”
“And that’s dangerous.”
I laughed. “As me and my day spent next to the porcelain god can attest.” I stepped down the three stairs to the winding maze of fire pits. “Hayes only got me once.”
“Wow, this is a lot more space than I thought.” She put her hands on her hips and looked out on the orchards in the distance.
“The concert stage is over that way. Not too close so we can enjoy the music but not get blasted out. But nice for people who like to wander.”
She shivered a little. “Not exactly down with woods for the night walks.”
“It’s lit very well actually.” I pointed toward the swings on the edge of the property with wrought iron lamps. “Solar lights all over to make sure everyone’s safe.”
“It’s beautiful here.” Again, she turned toward the view.
“There’s a pumpkin patch down there too. We grow some other produce as well, which we’ll take advantage of for some of our tastings. We won’t be running a full menu here, more like pairings to go with our various ciders through the summer season.”
“I’m not sure how I fit here.”
“As I said, I want your name to help boost the younger set. Beckett Manning—one of the main owners of Brothers Three Orchard—wants to modernize and build off the concerts. Too many orchards are struggling, and diversifying will make sure we’re here for years to come.”
“Okay. I get that. But we’re a far cry from the major cities I usually work in.”
“Upstate and Central New York does well during the summer and fall seasons. People love to come up here, but there isn’t a whole lot of nightlife. We think it’s an untapped market.”
She looked back at the taproom. “And I’d have control of the bar?”
“Within reason. I do have a budget until we start turning a profit.” I tucked my hands into the pockets of my dress. “And you’d have winters off. Do what you want.”
She spun around. “So this is seasonal?”
I nodded. “Winters are tough up here. People like to bunk down and hibernate, especially during storms. It’s near impossible to have a regular schedule. We’ll rent out the space for events, but it’s up to you if you want in on that part.”
I could see her brain whirling. “And if I wanted to maybe do some events.”
“I’d be willing to talk about it.”
She smiled at me. “Let’s go see that bar.”
