Taylor Jamess reputation gained ground as the quality of his formulas grew. He won more and more major prize categories while attracting more and more attention within the industry.
And yet no one had ever seen him.
Connor had been determined to find Taylor James and, with any luck, buy him out. Or hire him. But he hadnt been able to locate him. Who was this person making these great new beers and ales while continuing to hide himself away from his adoring public? For the past year, Taylor James had continued to beat out every other rival. Including, for the first time ever, MacLarens Pride, the pale ale that had put the MacLaren brothers on the map and helped them make their first million. Losing that contest had been a slap in the face and had made the MacLarens even more determined to find the mysterious beer maker.
Through one of the competitions, Connor was able to obtain Taylor Jamess email address and immediately started writing the guy. He received no answer. From another competition, Connor unearthed a post office box number. He began sending letters, asking if the elusive brewer would be interested in meeting to discuss an investment opportunity. He never heard a word backuntil this moment.
Now as he stared at the woman claiming to be the reclusive new genius of beer making, Connor was tempted to toss the fraudulent Ms. James out on her ear. It would be even more fun to call security and have her ignominiously escorted out to the sidewalk. The shameful exit might give her a minuscule taste of the pain and humiliation hed endured when she walked out of his life all those years ago.
But that would send the wrong signal, Connor reasoned. Maggie would take it as a sign that he actually cared one way or the other about her. And he didnt. The purely physical reaction to her presence meant nothing. He was a guy, after all. And he had to admit he was curious as to why shed hidden herself away and worked under an assumed name. She was a talented brewer, damn it. Her latest series of beers and ales were spectacular. And why wouldnt they be? She came from a long line of clever Scottish brewers, including her grandfather Angus, who had retired from the business years ago.
So hed give her a few minutes to tell her story. And then hed kick her excellent behind right out of his office.
With a generous sweep of his hand, he offered her one of the visitors chairs. Once she was seated, he sat and faced her. Youve got five minutes to say whatever you came to tell me, Maggie.
Fine. She sat and cleared her throat, then smoothed her jacket down a few times. She seemed nervous, but Connor knew better. She was playing the delicate angel, a role she had always performed to perfection.
He scowled, remembering that he used to call her his Red-Haired Angel. She still had gorgeous thick red hair that tumbled down her back, and her skin was still that perfect peaches and cream hed always loved to touch. God, she was as beautiful as she was the day he met her. But she was no angel. Connor had learned that the hard way.
My formulas have won every eligible competition for the past eighteen months, she began slowly, picking up speed and confidence as she spoke. Ive singlehandedly transformed the pale ale category overnight. Thats a quote from the leading reviewer in the industry, by the way. And its well deserved. Im the best new beer maker to come along in years.
I know all that. Connor sat back in his chair. Its one of the reasons why Ive been trying to hunt down Taylor James all these months. For some reason, he didnt feel compelled to respond.
He wasnt ready, she murmured, staring at her hands.
Connor was certain that those were the first truthful words shed uttered since walking into his office.
She pursed her lips as if weighing her next sentence, but all Connor could think was that those heaven-sent lips were still so desirable that one pout from her could twist his guts into knots.
His fists tightened. He was about to put an end to this nonsense when she finally continued to talk.
Heres my offer, she said, leaning forward in her chair. Ill sell you all of those prizewinning formulas and Ill also create something unique and new for MacLaren. Itll be perfect as a Christmas ale and youll sell every last bottle, I guarantee it.
At what price, Maggie?
She hesitated, then named a figure that would keep a small country afloat for a year or two. The amount was so far out in left field, Connor began to laugh. Thats absurd. Its not worth it.
Yes, it is, she insisted. And you know it, Connor. You said it yourself. The Taylor James brand is golden. Youll be able to use the name on all your packaging and advertising and youll make your money back a thousand times over.
She was right, but he wasnt going to admit that just yet. He stared at her for a minute, wondering what her real motivation was. Why had she come to him? There had to be other companies that wanted to do business with her. Or rather, with Taylor James.
Why now, Maggie? he asked quietly. Why do you want to sell those formulas? And why sell to me?
Why? She bit her luscious bottom lip and Connor had to fight back a groan. Irritated with himself as much as he was with her, he pushed himself out of his chair and scowled down at her. Answer me, Maggie. Tell me the truth or get the hell out of here. I dont have time for this crap.
You want the truth? She jumped up from her chair and glared right back at him. Fine. I need the money. Are you happy? Does it fill your heart with joy to hear me say it? Im desperate. Ive been turned down by every bank in town. I would go to other beer companies, but I dont have the time to sift through bids and counteroffers. I need money now. Thats why I came to you. Ive run out of choices. Its you or...
She exhaled heavily and slid down onto the arm of the chair. It seemed that shed run out of steam. There. Thats it. Are you happy now?
At least Im hearing the truth for once.
She looked up and made a face at him. He almost laughed, but couldnt. Shed expended all her energy trying to finagle a deal with him and she just didnt have it in her. She might well be the worst negotiator hed ever dealt with. And for some damn reason, he found it endearing.
For his own self-preservation, hed have to get over that feeling fast.
Where did all your money go? he asked. You mustve gotten a hefty settlement from your rich husband. He gave her a slow up-and-down look, taking in her faded jeans and worn jacket. Its obvious you didnt spend it all on shoes.
Very funny, she muttered, and followed his gaze down to her ratty old boots. After a long moment, she looked up at him. I know what you must think of me personally, but Im too close to the edge to care. I just need a loan. Can you help me or not?
Whats the money for? he asked.
She pressed her lips together in a stubborn line, then sighed. I need to expand my business.
If youre selling me all your formulas, you wont have a business left.
I can always come up with new recipes. My Taylor James brand is going strong, growing more profitable every day. And my new Redhead line is popular, too.
Then whats the money for? he asked again, slowly, deliberately.
I need to upgrade my equipment. I need to hire some help. I need to develop a sales force. She sighed and stared at her hands. I need to make enough money to take care of my grandfather.
I need to upgrade my equipment. I need to hire some help. I need to develop a sales force. She sighed and stared at her hands. I need to make enough money to take care of my grandfather.
He frowned. You mentioned Angus earlier. Is something wrong with him?
It was as if all the air fled from her lungs. Her shoulders slumped and God help him, he thought he saw a glimmer of tears in her beautiful brown eyes.
Hes been to the hospital twice now. Its his heart. Im so worried about him. He runs out of breath so easily these days, but he refuses to give up his goats. Or his scotch.
Some things are sacred to a man.
Goats and scotch. She rolled her eyes. He insists that hes hale and hearty, but I know its not true. Im scared, Connor. She ran one hand through her hair, pushing it back from her face. He needs medication. They have a new drug that would be perfect for someone in his condition, but we found out its considered experimental. The insurance wont cover it and its too expensive for me to pay for it.
Connor frowned. This wasnt good news. Angus Campbell was one of the sweetest old guys hed ever known. Connor and his brothers were first inspired to make their own beer while watching Angus at work in the Campbell family pub. That brew pub had been on Main Street in Point Cairn for as long as Connor could remember. Growing up, he and his brothers had all worked there during the summer months.
Then five years ago, Angus lost his beloved wife, Doreen. Thats when Maggies mom sold the pub to the MacLaren brothers. Angus insisted that she move to Florida to live with her sister, something shed been talking about for years. But that left Angus alone with his goat farm, though he got occasional help from the neighborhood boys. This had all happened during the time Maggie was living back east with her rich husband.
Now Maggie was back home and the only family she had left in Point Cairn was her grandpa Angus.
Connor made a decision. Ill pay for that medication.
We dont need charity, Connor.
Her words annoyed him at the same time as he admired her for saying them. Im not talking about charity, Maggie. Call it payback. Angus was always good to us.
I know, she said softly. But hes almost eighty years old. Therell be lots more medication in the future, along with a hundred other unexpected expenses. I need cash going forward to get my brewery up and running. That way, Ill be able to generate enough funds of my own to pay for Grandpas health care needs. She started walking, pacing the confines of his office as if she couldnt bear to stand still any longer. Ill also be able to hire some workers for both me and Grandpa and maybe make a few improvements to the farm. Im looking to arrange a business deal, Connor. A fair trade, not a handout. And I need to do it right away.
What happened at the bank?
I expected them to come through, but they turned me down. They explained that with the economy and all... She gave a dispirited shrug.
Connor had been watching her carefully. He had a feeling there was something she wasnt telling him. Why wouldnt the bank loan her the money? Even though she was divorced, she must have received a hefty settlement. Her beers and ales were kicking ass all over the state, so she had to be considered a good risk. Was she hoarding the settlement money away for some reason?
And another thing. She and her grandfather owned at least a hundred acres of prime Marin farmland that would make excellent collateral for any bank loan.
She might not be lying to him at the moment, but she was holding back some information. Connor would pry it out of her eventually, but in the meantime, a plan had been forming in his mind as they talked. If he wasnt mistaken, and he rarely was, it would be the answer to all their problems. She would get her money and he would get something he wanted.
Call it restitution.
Ill give you the money, he said.
She blinked. You will?
Yeah. He hadnt realized until Maggie showed up today that he still harbored so many ambivalent feelings for her. Part of him wanted to kick her to the curb, while another more rowdy part of him wanted to shove everything off his desk and have his way with her right then and there.
He thought she had a lot of nerve showing up here asking for money. And yet he also thought she showed guts. It was driving him nuts just listening to her breathe, so why shouldnt he pull her chain a little? Just to settle the score.
Whats the catch? she said warily.
He chuckled. Once again, shed thrown him off base. She shouldve been doing cartwheels, knowing shed get the money, but instead she continued to peer suspiciously at him.
The catch, he explained, is that it wont be a loan. I want something in return.
Of course, she said, brightening. Ive already promised you the Taylor James formulas.
Yeah, Ill take those formulas, he said, but theres something else I want from you.
Her eyes wide, she took a small step backward. I dont think so.
Take it or leave it, Maggie, Connor snapped.
Take or leave what? she said in a huff. I dont even know what youre talking about.
He shoved his hands in his pockets. It seems I need a date.
A date? she scoffed. You must know a hundred women who would
Let me put it this way. I need a woman who knows a little something about beer. You more than meet that requirement, so I intend to use your services for a week.
My...services? What are you talking about?
Im talking about taking you up on your deal. Ill pay you the entire amount of money you asked for in exchange for your formulas, plus this one other condition.
That Im at your service for a week? This is ridiculous. Agitated, she began to pace the floor of his office even faster.
Its only for a week, he said reasonably. Seven days and nights.
Nights? she repeated, her eyes narrowing.
He shrugged lightly, knowing exactly what she was thinking. Sex. Thats entirely up to you.
This is blackmail, she muttered.
No, its not. Im about to give you a lot of money and I want something in return.
My services, she said sarcastically.
Thats right. Look, the Autumn Brew Festival is next week.
I know that, she grumbled.
I need a date, and youre the perfect choice. So you will agree to be my date the entire week and go to all the competition events with me. Ill also want you to attend a number of meetings and social events with me, including the Friday night gala dinner dance.
That suspicious look was back. Are you kidding?
What? You dont like to dance?
She looked stricken by his words but quickly recovered. No, I dont, as a matter of fact.
That was weird. Maggie had always loved dancing. Doesnt matter, he said. Youre going to the gala.
Well see about that. Her eyes focused in on him. And thats it? We pal around for a week at the festival and I get the money?
Thats it. And Ill expect you to stay with me in my hotel suite.
She stopped and stared at him. Oh, please.
You want the money or not?