Chapter 14

Finn

T he rolling hills stretched out before us, each turn on the road revealing another breathtaking view of Virginia's countryside. The sun cast a golden hue over the fields, the occasional farmhouse breaking the green expanse. I couldn't help but steal glances at Alex, his profile strong and serene as he navigated the winding roads.

"This is one of my favorite parts of Virginia," he said, breaking the comfortable silence. "Living in the country, surrounded by all this... it just feels right. It's peaceful."

I nodded, the sound of his baritone almost hypnotic. The calm in his voice matched the tranquility of the landscape. Without thinking, I reached over and took his hand. His eyes flicked toward me, a small smile playing on his lips as he gave my hand a gentle squeeze. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down my spine.

"I can see why you love it out here," I breathed. "It's beautiful. And your home... it feels like a sanctuary."

"That's because it is," Alex replied, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. "It's where I feel most myself. It was originally my grandfather's house, and he left it to me and my sister when he passed."

I watched the scenery go by, the rhythmic hum of the car and the steady beat of my heart blending into a soothing symphony. The connection between us felt deeper now, more tangible. It wasn't just the physical attraction; it was something more profound, something that made me want to be a part of his world.

"What about you?" Alex asked, his voice breaking through my thoughts. "Do you see yourself ever living in a place like this?"

I chuckled, glancing at him. "Honestly, I hadn't thought about it until now. But I'm a country boy at heart. My father used to take me fishing on the Willamette River back in Oregon, and those were some of the happiest days of my life."

Alex's smile widened, his blue eyes sparkling. "Fishing, huh? It's one of my favorite pastimes. Maybe one day soon, when we're both not busy, we can spend the day catching bass and bluegill on the pier in my backyard."

"I'd like that," I said, squeezing his hand gently. "I'd like to learn everything about this place. And about you."

We fell into a comfortable silence again, the connection between us growing stronger with each mile. I'd come along for two reasons. First, I wanted to spend more time with Alex. There was something magical happening between us, and I wanted to explore the possibilities. The other reason for coming along was I wanted to see how he conducted his business. I was certain I'd never sell Fireside Forge Brewery to him, but it couldn't hurt to learn more about the way he ran his company.

Finally, the sign for Blue Ridge Brewery came into view, and Alex slowed the car, turning onto the gravel driveway. The building was charming, with rustic wood and large windows.

"I bought this brewery nine months ago," Alex said, switching off the engine. "An excellent investment. We've seen a nearly 20% surge in profits since then, and Margo is thrilled."

"Margo?" I unfastened my seatbelt and opened the door.

"She was the original owner, but now she's the manager." Alex turned in his seat and grabbed his briefcase out of the backseat. "Ready to see how we do things here?"

I nodded

We stepped out of the car; the gravel crunching under our feet as we walked toward the entrance. Alex held the door open for me, and when I stepped inside, the first thing I noticed was everyone was smiling. It was barely two in the afternoon, and there were a lot more people here at this time of day than I usually had at Fireside.

"I'm curious about something," I murmured, and Alex turned to me with a cocked eyebrow. "How come there are so many customers here in the middle of a weekday? Roanoke is a small city compared to Richmond, and I struggle to get customers this early."

"Ask Margo," Alex said as I walked past him. "She runs the business, and I support pretty much anything she wants to do with it."

It was a beautiful space. The walls were lined with exposed brick and reclaimed wood, giving the space a rustic yet modern feel. Large windows allowed natural light to flood in, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere.

But it wasn't just the design that caught my attention. It was also the energy of the place. The customers were a diverse mix of people, from young couples to families with children. Everyone was having a wonderful time as they sipped on their beers and indulged in some delicious-smelling food.

I followed Alex as he made his way over to the bar, where an older woman with short blonde hair greeted him with a smile.

"Finn, this is Margo," Alex said, gesturing towards the woman behind the bar.

"It's nice to meet you," I said, extending my hand for her to shake.

"Likewise," Margo replied with a warm smile. "Did you drive all the way from the city just to visit little old me?"

"I own Fireside Forge Brewery in Richmond, and, well, Alex and I…" I blushed, remembering our magical morning. Alex resumed the conversation after seeing the look on my face.

"Finn wants to see how you run this brewery, and I'm guessing he wants to know what my input is." Alex shrugged. "I want to buy him out, but he's rightfully got a few concerns."

As we chatted for a few minutes, Alex excused himself to take care of some business calls. While he was occupied, Margo offered to give me a tour of the brewery, and I eagerly accepted.

We first walked through the taproom where customers were enjoying their drinks and chatting with friends. The room was cozy and welcoming, with comfortable couches and chairs scattered throughout. On one wall hung a large map of Virginia featuring different craft breweries across the state. I walked up to it and saw my brewery on it.

Next, we made our way into the brewing area where large stainless steel tanks lined the walls. Margo explained each step of the brewing process, her passion for beer evident in every word she spoke.

"Blue Ridge Brewery is more than just a place for people to come and drink beer," she said as we walked back to the taproom. "It's a community. We host events, partner with different community organizations for fundraisers. I'm sure you know all about that stuff," she drawled. "So, what do you want to know? If you're like me, you have a lot of reservations about selling to Alex." Margo gestured toward a small table in the corner. "Sit, and I'll tell you everything you want to know."

I sat down and immediately asked, "Alex told me you're turning a great profit here since he bought you out. Is that true?" I felt a little guilty asking, but people are prone to exaggerating when discussing business.

I watched Margo as she settled into the chair across from me. She had that unmistakable Southern charm, the kind that put you at ease instantly.

"Alright, sugar," she began with a twinkle in her eye, "let's talk shop. I reckon you wanna know how Alex's involvement turned this place around, huh?"

I nodded, leaning forward. "Yeah, I'm curious. He mentioned profits are up nearly 20%. How did that happen?"

Margo chuckled, the sound rich and melodic. "Well, darlin', it all started with a little thing called cash flow. You see, when Alex bought this place, he pumped in a good bit of money. First thing I did was settle up any outstanding debts. We had some loans that were eatin' up our profits with their high interest rates. Payin' those off freed up a chunk of change that we could put right back into the business."

"That makes sense," I said, feeling a bit of relief at her straightforward explanation.

"And then," she continued, "we got smart with our inventory. Started buyin' our hops and malt in bulk. Nothin' like a good discount to put a smile on my face. Plus, with better control over our stock, we reduced waste. Less spoilage means more profit, plain and simple."

I could see the practicality in her approach. It wasn't just about having more money, but using it wisely.

"We also put some of that money into marketing and advertising," Margo added. "You'd be amazed at what a few well-placed ads and a strong social media presence can do. Suddenly, folks who'd never heard of Blue Ridge Brewery were comin' in to see what all the fuss was about."

I glanced around the bustling taproom, understanding now how they drew such a crowd. "That explains all the customers."

"Sure does," she said with a wink. "But it ain't just about getting people in the door. We upgraded our equipment, too. Newer gear means we can brew bigger batches faster, and the quality? Top-notch. Folks are willin' to pay a little more for a better product."

Her passion for the business was obvious, and it was contagious. I found myself getting excited about the possibilities for Fireside Forge.

"And don't underestimate the power of a happy team," Margo added. "Alex made sure we had the resources to improve working conditions and offer training. Happy employees make better beer, plain and simple. They're more productive, and they care about the quality of what they're makin'."

I smiled, appreciating her perspective. "So, Alex's hands-off approach really works?"

"Absolutely," she said with a nod. "He trusts us to do what we do best. Gives us the freedom to experiment and optimize. It's a win-win."

I sat back, digesting everything she'd shared. It was clear Alex's involvement had been a game-changer for Blue Ridge Brewery, and I couldn't help but wonder if the same could happen for Fireside Forge.

Margo leaned forward, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Now, Finn, I gotta ask. What's really on your mind? You worried about sellin' your baby to a rich city boy like Alex?"

I laughed, the sound easing some of my tension. "A little, yeah. But hearing all this... it's giving me a lot to think about."

"Good," she said, patting my hand. "That's the point. You gotta do what's right for you and your brewery. But don't be afraid to see what a little outside help can do. Plus, if everything works out the way Alex says it will, in the next few years we'll be able to sell this place for a suitcase full of cash, and I'll be able to retire."

I nodded, grateful for her honesty. "Thanks, Margo. I appreciate it."

"Anytime, sugar," she said with a smile. "Now, let's get you a beer and see if we can't convince Alex to take a break from those business calls of his."

After spending another hour at Blue Ridge Brewery, we headed back to Richmond so he could drop me off. When Alex pulled into the parking lot of Fireside Forge Brewery, the sun was just dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows across the lot.

I glanced over at Alex, who was focused on parking the car. The drive back from Roanoke had been surprisingly pleasant. We'd talked about everything under the sun—our favorite movies, embarrassing childhood memories, even our dreams for the future. Not once had Alex mentioned buying Fireside Forge, and I found myself appreciating him even more for it.

As the engine cut off, the sudden silence enveloped us. Alex turned to me, his expression thoughtful. The dim light softened the sharp lines of his face, making him look almost vulnerable.

"Finn," he started, hesitating for a moment. "I have to ask... do you still have reservations about selling the brewery to me?"

I took a deep breath, letting the weight of his question settle. This was the moment I'd been dreading and anticipating in equal measure. All the conversations, the shared laughs, the silent understanding—it all led to this.

I looked out at the brewery, its familiar outline against the evening sky. Fireside Forge was more than just a business to me; it was a part of who I was. The thought of selling it felt like giving away a piece of myself. Yet, Alex had shown me another side of the coin—a potential future where collaboration didn't mean loss, but growth.

Turning back to him, I found his eyes in the dim light, searching mine. "Alex," I began, my voice steady. "Spending time with you, seeing how you run your business, it's been eye-opening. You're an incredible person, and I respect you a lot."

His lips curved into a small, hopeful smile, but I saw the uncertainty in his eyes.

"But," I continued, reaching out to place my hand over his, "I can't sell Fireside Forge."