Chapter Thirty-Six
Brew
I ’m in my office, finishing some paperwork, when I hear a knock on the door, and Audrey’s head pops in.
“We’re almost ready to open the doors,” she says.
“What does it look like out there?” I ask.
“Complete and utter insanity!”
Garrett Tuttle is taking the stage tonight.
Brandee’s friend Erin arrived in town a few days ago with a group she called the Balsam Ridge Brigade, which included Jena; Taeli and Graham Tuttle, their son, Caleb; Ansley and Garrett Tuttle; and Langford’s son, Tucker. They are spread out between my house and Ida Mae’s cottage.
After much persuasion from the women—led by Audrey—Garrett agreed to do a surprise, one-night-only concert at Whiskey Joe’s. Poor guy never stood a chance with the Sandcastle Cove five teaming up with the women from Balsam Ridge. They knew it, and so did he.
News about the show spread quickly. Tickets had to be purchased in advance and sold out within minutes. However, seating is first come, first served, so people have been waiting outside for hours, camped out all day, hoping to secure a good table.
“Are you ready for this?” I ask.
She smirks. “I was born ready.”
We hired extra security and borrowed a couple of skilled bartenders from Coastal Luxe, a nightclub owned by a friend in Wilmington, for the night. We’ve had some great bands perform here, but Garrett is by far the biggest star to ever grace our stage.
Audrey glances down at the folder on my desk, labeled Whiskey Joe’s Franchising Venture.
“What’s that?” she asks, unabashedly curious.
“A proposal I’m considering to expand the Whiskey Joe’s brand,” I reply.
“Expand?”
I nod. “Brewster Sr. wants to bring it into the Cartwright Motorsports family and open locations in and around the speedways we own across the country.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Wow. Really?”
“Yep. He’s serious too. His assistant sent me a detailed list of properties that had been scouted.”
“How would it work?” she asks, sinking into the seat in front of my desk.
“He wants to build exact replicas of this location and assign a general manager for each one to handle everything from the ground up.”
“But they’d all be owned by Cartwright Motorsports?”
“Yes.”
“So, not a true franchise with independent owners,” she says.
“No. I told him that if I were to consider it, I wanted them all under our control, so you and I could ensure each one meets the same standards as this location,” I explain.
“You and me?”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t do it without you.”
Her eyes grow misty.
“But this is something the two of us need to discuss in depth. I’m not sure if I want to take on a project this big.
It would mean selling to the company, which would mean you’d be working for Cartwright.
This place wouldn’t be my baby anymore; it would be part of something much larger, which comes with more pressure.
We need to decide if that’s what we want to do.
But that discussion isn’t for tonight. Tonight, we just focus on giving the crowd and Garrett the best experience we can. ”
She stands. “Right. Let’s do this.”
We walk into the club, and the staff is bustling around.
Four bartenders are stationed behind the main bar, and servers are ready and waiting.
Garrett is finishing up his final sound check with a group of local musicians who are joining him as his band for the night.
Extra tables and chairs have been arranged on the dance floor, leaving only a small space open for those willing to stand in front of the stage all night.
To the left of the stage, a large table is occupied by our friends, both old and new. I offered them seats in the VIP section, but they insisted on leaving those spots for paying customers.
Erin’s exact words were, “We see Garrett’s ugly mug enough; let someone who will appreciate it have the best view.”
I approach Garrett. “Are you ready for this madness?” I ask.
He gives an easy smile. “Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he replies as he unscrews the cap of a water bottle.
“All right, if you’re ready, we’ll open the doors in five minutes. It should take around thirty minutes for everyone to enter. Audrey will start her introduction fifteen minutes after we’ve closed the doors. This will give them time to settle in and place their orders.”
He nods in understanding. “I’ve got about forty-five minutes until showtime. Got it. Let’s bring the house down,” he says, giving me a friendly slap on the back before walking over to claim Ansley and heading to the artist’s room behind the stage.
Audrey approaches me, holding a walkie-talkie as she communicates with Bruce, who is stationed at the exterior doors. “You can begin letting them inside in five minutes. Once everyone is inside, send four of your guys to the stage to cover Garrett and the band,” she says.
“Ten-four, boss lady,” he replies.
I walk over to our table of friends, and Brandee stands up.
She wraps her arms around my waist and squeezes. “You look so tense,” she says, meeting my gaze.
“Just part of the job,” I reply, placing a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Thank you,” I whisper in her ear.
“For what?” she asks.
“Making this happen.”
She pulls back to look at me. “You should really be thanking Erin. I think she went back to Balsam Ridge and twisted Garrett’s balls until he agreed to come back to the island with her.”
“Ouch! Remind me never to get on Erin’s bad side,” I say.
We share one last kiss before the doors swing open and people begin to flood in. The girls dart past the bar and head straight for the tables, eager to claim the best spot they can reach. Meanwhile, the men pause to place their orders, allowing the women to compete for the tables.
“I’ll be back,” I say.
I head to the front to help control the flow of people coming through the doors, ensuring we don’t have a pushing and trampling situation.
Once everyone is inside and most are seated, I dim the overhead lights, and the recessed lighting that Wade installed in the floor near each table begins to glow.
A spotlight illuminates the stage as Audrey approaches the microphone.
The excitement in the venue is so intense that her introduction is barely audible over the hum of the crowd.
When Garrett steps onto the stage, wearing his guitar, a hush falls over the room.
“Hello, Sandcastle Cove. Are you guys ready to rock this place tonight?” Garrett asks into the mic.
A roar fills the room like I’ve never heard before, rising all the way to the rafters.