get dime one, you need a business plan. A real one on paper and with financial projections that I have approved. And if you default any principal payment, I get a controlling interest in Horned Owl Brewery.”
Travis went slack-jawed. “So if twelve grand is all you end up lending me, you think that should entitle you to run my life?”
“If you can’t pay me back, maybe you need someone to run your life for a while. And at least I’m giving you a fair shot at making it.”
“The last four years of my life are worth more than twelve grand.”
“I can’t deny that,” Matt said. “But that’s the price of a start-up. Hell, I did the math on what I was earning per hour after my first year and almost crawled under my bed. It was depressing and unfair. But you have to look at it from my side now. If Horned Owl fails-and I don’t think it will-all that money buys me is some recipes, beer names, and label art.”
“So why are you doing it?”
Travis still looked skeptical, and Matt didn’t blame him. This was a big step.
“There’s no scam here and no motive other than to get your beer out there for people to find,” Matt said. “I’m going to have a place for that soon, and you are straight-up the best brewer for the spot. And like I said, you remipayid, yound me of me.” Minus the tattoos, the piercings, and the attitude. Okay, add back in the attitude. Ten years ago, Matt had been happy to brawl for the sake of brawling, just as Travis was.
Matt gave the idea a final push. “Tell you what, think about it for the rest of the weekend, and if you’re interested, give me a call on Monday. I can have my lawyer draw up the paperwork for you to take a look at. For now, let’s catch the end of the game.”
Travis settled in, and both men drained the last of their Rail Rider ambers. Matt had done all he could. If Travis Holby was the man Matt estimated him to be, he’d take this deal even if it chafed his pride, and he’d also pay back the money as agreed.
“No need to wait until Monday,” Travis eventually said. “Let’s do it.”
“Okay,” Matt replied.
Though he’d kept up a mellow front for Travis, Matt was feeling damn good. Someone had once bailed him out, and now he got to pass along the favor and make a few bucks in the bargain.
THREE
At ten on Monday morning, Kate lobbed an open case of uncooked chicken wings into the Dumpster behind Depot Brewing. Misfortune had sunk its teeth into Matt Culhane. Or at least into his walk-in cooler.
“I’m telling you everything was okay when I left last night,” Kate said over her shoulder to Jerry.
Jerry’s face was locked tight with anxiety, a muscle twitching at the side of his jaw. “Can you prove it? Someone screwed up and hit that cooler’s power switch. I’m betting it was you.”
She turned back to grab something else to toss from the cartful of spoiled food. Jerry wasn’t looking much better than the tray of tepid slider patties. Having had her work life pass before her eyes on a couple of occasions, she knew the expression of someone staring down unemployment. And because it must suck to be him at this moment, she decided not to take it personally that without cause or investigation he’d pinned the blame on her.
He’d also called her in five hours early. Niceties such as hairstyle and matching socks had fallen by the wayside as she’d scrambled to get to the brewery.
“Jerry, I know I had the least experience of anyone last night, but honestly, my lack of experience makes me even more careful. I’ve told you what I saw. What happened after that, I don’t know.”
Before last night, she also hadn’t known that Jerry was in the habit of leaving the kitchen and taproom in the hands of the crew and disappearing when Matt was elsewhere.
“Someone has to have seen something,” he said.
Kate lobbed a five-gallon jug of mayonnaise that was now both heart attack and food poisoning by the tablespoon. It made a satisfying thud as it hit the bottom of the Dumpster.
“Possibly,” she replied, though she had her doubts.
Jerry sighed. “I need to go in and clear more food. Just keep tossing.”
Kate couldn’t begin to imagine how much money Depot Brewing had lost overnight. She couldn’t put the cooler incident down to carelessness, either. Not only had the unit’s power switch to the right of the door been turned off, but the door had been left open, too. From what she could gather from the brewery gossip, without both of those events, the cooler would have held its temperature within the allowable range until morning.
She also knew that the walk-in’s door was tough to leave open. Kate had scared the bejeezus out of herself Saturday evening when she’d wheeled in a cart with the bins from the salad prep area and the door had shut. On the bright side, her panicked scream had made the cooks’ nights. So what if her brain had shut down when the door slammed? So what if there was a latch on the inside, too? Everyone had issues, and maybe hers was a touch of claustrophobia, especially when trapped inside a giant stainless-steel refrigerator.
Her attention was drawn by the clank and rattle of a cart being wheeled across the asphalt. Steve and Amber had arrived with more spoiled food for the Dumpster, and Kate knew this was prime sleuthing time. She kept her head down and continued to clear her cart.
“So where do you think Matt is?” Amber was asking Steve.
“I’m thinking more about what he’s gonna do when he gets here. Someone is dead meat.”
Amber grimaced. “I’m glad I got cut early. I’m off the hook.”
Steve nodded. “And the dude trusts me, for sure.”
“So where do you think he is?” Amber asked again.
Steve shrugged. “Maybe he has a secret girlfriend. Like a married one.”
“I’m sure that’s not the case,” Amber said, turning on her heel and huffing off, back to the building.
“Another babe under the spell of Matt Culhane,” Steve said to Kate. “I’ve been asking Amber out for weeks. She always says she’s too busy, but I know if
“I find it hard to believe he would date an employee,” Kate said.
Steve shrugged. “You never know in the restaurant business. Late nights. Lots of beer and parties. And, he’s got one or two women hanging around here who are borderline stalkers.”
Kate thought it sounded a little like jealousy on Steve’s part, but Matt was a pretty hot ticket. “Are you saying Amber might have sabotaged the cooler because she’s obsessed with Matt?”
Steve looked shocked. “No way! She just has a huge crush on the guy. But who doesn’t? I mean, everaliI mean,y female in a hundred-mile radius drools over him.”
Matt stepped forward to take a tub of blue cheese from Kate and pitch it into the Dumpster. “Talking about me?”
Kate hadn’t realized he was there. She allowed herself a glance to see if his sex appeal had diminished over the weekend. She decided it definitely hadn’t and looked back to Steve before she turned to stone or salt or whatever a woman did when staring into the face of temptation.
“We can handle this,” Matt said to Steve. “How about you head inside?” He waited a moment and grinned down at Kate. “Interesting look you’ve got going on. I didn’t know you were into tractors.”
She had no idea what he was talking about. “Tractors?”
“Your choice of headwear. It makes quite the statement.”
Kate absently touched the crown of her head. All she’d been able to find in the way of hair protection when Jerry had ordered her to the brewery had been a fluffy feathered hat of her mom’s or a green-and-yellow John Deere tractor-emblazoned bandana that she’d unearthed in the linen closet. She’d chosen the bandana.
“I was short on time, and Jerry sounded borderline hysterical. Desperate times and all that. Speaking of which, you know this wasn’t an accident, right?”
“Yes. I’m just glad it’s not the weekend. We’ve got a fighting chance to pull it together for a Monday crowd. If this had happened on a Saturday, we wouldn’t have had time to prep the volume of food we’d need.” He paused. “How’d you survive the weekend?”
“I have a new boyfriend named Hobart. He and I have become very close.”
