“The short version is he’s agreed to sell me his Brooklyn operation and his Montana one.”
“Are you looking to expand out of state?”
Smart cookie.“No. I’m only interested in his Brooklyn operation. I don’t need more headaches in my life. The reason why Joe has to sell is tragic.”
She frowns. “That doesn’t sound too good.”
“I don’t know the man, and I was devastated by his story.” I’m still shaken by what the guy shared. It takes courage to open up like that to a stranger. “What happened to him is so over the top and layered with embarrassment and shame, he couldn’t bring himself to approach another brewery in Montana—or any surrounding state.”
“Can you share what happened to him?”
I ready myself to answer her, but she gets up.
“I’m going to grab a glass of water. Do you want one?”
I shake my head. “I’m good. Thanks.”
“Sorry I interrupted you.”
I wave it off. “Joseph Kozinski is in his sixties. He got married when he was young, got divorced after a year of marriage, and never remarried. Throughout his life he’s had on and off relationships.”
Harley opens the fridge and grabs the water pitcher, fills her glass, and guzzles down a long gulp.
“He started thinking of retirement and not wanting to be alone for the rest of his life.”
“I can understand that at his age.” Harley takes another sip of water.
“Long story short, a stunning young woman befriended him on social media, and they started exchanging messages on the platform. Within a few days, they moved the conversation to their phones, at her suggestion. Every day, they’d exchange a flurry of messages—your typical honeymoon phase. Fast forward a few weeks…”
Harley trails back towards me, her attention rapt.
“The gorgeous twenty-nine-year-old brunette with the big blue eyes proclaimed to be so in love with him, she couldn’t imagine not living together. She suggested a way for him to gain financial and location independence, so they could live in the same country. That’s when their lovey-dovey conversation turned to investment 101.”
Harley freezes, her fingers skimming the top of the table.
“The so-called love of his life brainwashed and manipulated him. Before he could grasp the monumental mistake he was about to make, because he trusted her, his whole world imploded. Over a matter of a few weeks, the Eastern European woman he thought he was in a relationship with, siphoned his life savings and his business funds into her own accounts.”
Harley blinks in rapid succession, her hand going to her chest.
“I know. Tragic.” I shake my head. “According to the police who did a reverse image search, he was catfished. He was probably in communication with a team of scammers overseas and not an Eastern European beauty—who’s an innocent participant in this deplorable story because her photos were stolen from her socials. Joe was looking for love, but in the end, he became a romance and finance scam victim. He has nothing left to his name.”
Harley opens and closes her mouth.
She’s taking this to heart.
So did I.
My molars grind together. “What kind of piece of shit humans prey on hard-working people? Especially a man his age. Those scammers deserve to be hung from a tree.”
Harley goes as white as a sheet.
A skittering of worry zips through me. “Are you okay?”
She tries to grip the side of the table as her eyes roll to the back of her head.
I jump out of my seat. “Harley!”
Chapter 50
