35. Chapter 35 #2
I’m here before everyone except for the cleaning crew.
Wes’s office is at the taproom, but I kept mine here when we opened that location.
The bar is distracting, and some days my brain can’t overcome that, but I also like being around the art of it.
Listening to the machines chug, the guys on the floor working and laughing.
The smell reminds me of my garage brewing days. I never felt over my head then.
By noon, I’ve filled the white board on my wall with lists, things that have been caught in the wind for months. I write them in columns, give them dates, and color code them by priority. Then I check off the things I can do right now, before I even talk to Wes.
I decide to officially make Em the general manager of the taproom and extract myself from the bar schedule. I want to put my effort into bigger things than pouring beer. I didn’t run it by Wes because I don’t have to. That’s our arrangement, and I’m going to start handling my own side of this.
But I also know this part isn’t a big risk. There’s not a lot of trouble I can get into moving people around. I save the big jump for the afternoon.
Wes lives on the West End of the city in a brownstone that his dad bought him as a college graduation present.
Every time I come here, which admittedly isn’t often, it reminds me how deep-seated these differences between us are.
Our motivations. What drives us. I just hope this conversation will show me they’re close enough to still work.
I parallel park in front of his door and jog up the moss-covered steps. He answers on the first knock. “I’ve been calling you all morning.”
“I’ve been at the brewery. I wanted to watch today’s malt churn.”
His expression is blank, and I wonder how it is that I’m just now realizing the machines there are as foreign to him as his spreadsheets are to me. I have done a lot of waking up today.
“Why are you here?” he asks.
I push past him, heading to the kitchen. I grab a bottle of our IPA out of his fridge, prying it against his wall mounted opener. “I’ve been thinking about the offer.”
“It’s about time.”
I blow out a breath. “We have a good thing going here, Wes.”
He leans a hip on the granite island. “Of course we do. Corporations like NEBev don’t buy failing businesses, Jameson.”
I shrug. “They’re not going to buy this one either. My answer’s no.”
“Jesus Christ, Jamie.” He pinches the bridge of his nose like I’m exasperating him.
“You can’t be serious. You’ve been talking about making something of yourself since I’ve known you.
Being bought out by a major corporation is the epitome of success.
I put it on a silver platter for you. What the hell are you thinking? ”
“I’m thinking it’s not my version of success.
” I sink against the wall, running a hand over my face.
“Look, Wes, you’re right about the fact that I came into this with a chip on my shoulder.
And maybe making the news for being sought out by a corporation like this would have been the gold star I’ve been trying to earn for the last, I don’t know, twenty years.
It’s just, I think maybe I’ve moved past wanting to prove something to everyone.
At least not at the expense of my own dreams. It’s kind of time I grew out of the whole fuck you, world thing, you know? ”
He lets out a surprise laugh. “This just some epiphany you had overnight?”
I wish . If I had, maybe I wouldn’t have twisted everything up with Noel. “I guess I just realized that proving myself to everyone is worth less than finding the person you don’t have to do that with.”
Someone who believes in my ability to figure it out on my own. I don’t think I need to know the future anymore, as long as she’s in it. If I fucked anything up in all of this, it was not realizing that sooner.
“One can only assume you’re talking about your psychic girlfriend.”
“Stop,” I say. “That’s the end of that shit too. And, yeah, I’m talking about Noel, but I wish I was talking about you too.”
His eyes flash with surprise and he nods once. “Look, I know I can be an asshole—”
“You told Noel I almost failed out of college.”
He throws a hand in the air. “And look what came of it! You got proof she’s not like Becca or any of the others since her.”
“ Wes . Jesus, man.”
“Okay, that was wrong. I know that.” He scrapes his palms over his face, blowing out a breath. “So what happens if we keep growing, and you realize you’re not cut out for this?”
I stutter at the question I’ve been asking myself pitched out loud. “You think I’m not?”
“I don’t know, but it’s a valid question if you want me to fall in line.”
“I’m not asking you to fall in line. I’m asking you to be my business partner.”
“Convince me then.”
“Convince you?”
He crosses his arms. “You’re disorganized. You’re soft-hearted. You refuse to make the tough calls. Tell me why I shouldn’t walk away.”
I haven’t forgotten there’s still the possibility this is where our partnership ends instead of strengthens, but hearing him admit it takes a little wind out of the cocky sail I blew in here on.
But I meant what I said about not being in this to prove myself.
Acting on defensiveness and hurt feelings isn’t how I want to move forward.
“Because you’re the opposite of all those things, Wes, and that’s why it works.
Surrounding yourself with the people who can do what you can’t, who can help you, that’s not a weakness.
It’s smart business. And I’m also creative.
I’m a good salesman because people trust me.
And I’m a damn good brewer. I can do this without you, Wes.
I’m not sure you can say the same. If we’re going to keep working together, I won’t keep treating this like a favor you’re doing me. ”
He stares me down, that jaw twitch I’m so used to on full display.
“Well?”
“You forgot cocky. And fucking petulant.”
I shrug. “I’m a work in progress.”
“It wasn’t an insult.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Christ.”
“All right. You want to bet on you, Jamie. Let’s bet on you.”
“You really told Wes to fuck off?” Em’s stacking pint glasses when I get to the bar.
I spin my key ring around my finger. “I told him I made my decision. And the answer’s no.”
She puts her fist out, and I bump it. “That’s some boss behavior, Jameson.”
“I am actually the boss.”
She presses a hand to her heart and pretends to wipe a tear. “So. Next topic. Have you talked to Noel yet?”
I haven’t. I’m ready now, though, and an idea came to me on my way here. Something Noel said before she left my apartment. Something I can’t seem to get out of my head.
“Actually, I was hoping you would text her for me.”
Em growls in frustration, chucking a bar rag at me. “Jesus, Jamie. You’re really going to choose this part to punk out on?”
“Wait,” I say. “I’m not punking out. I promise. I have an idea.”
I explain my plan to Em, and this time I don’t let myself consider any other fate besides this working.