"Agreed." I flip through my notes. "Sample Four has that chocolate thing going on, which is interesting but might be polarizing. Some judges will love it, some might find it too rich."
"Right. So Three or One." She chews her bottom lip, thinking. "Three is safe. It's exactly what you'd expect from a coffee blonde ale."
"But One is special," I finish. "The coffee flavor is distinctive and those fruity notes bring something unique to the table. It's unexpected."
"Which is exactly what we need to win."
We look at each other, and I can see her coming to the same conclusion.
"Sample One," we say in unison.
Tommy, who's been lurking nearby with barely contained excitement, pumps his fist. "Yes! That's the one I thought you'd pick." He consults his own notes. "And the winner is Wyatt's light roast Central American blend!"
My tension bleeds away. "Really?"
Merri meets my gaze, and there's genuine admiration in her eyes. "That coffee is exceptional, Wyatt. It's exactly what this beer needed."
"Your brewing is what made it work," I counter. "You could've easily screwed up the infusion and killed the coffee's nuance, but you didn't. The flavors are clean and distinct. That's all you."
"Well." She clears her throat, looking pleased. "I guess we make a good team."
"Who knew?" I tease.
Tommy claps his hands together. "This calls for a celebration. You guys want a full pint of the winning blend?"
"Hell yes," I say.
"Make it two," Merri adds.
While Tommy heads back to pour our beers, Merri and I sit there, the normal tension between us completely absent. It's strange, sitting next to her like this. Comfortable and almost easy.
"So," she says, leaning back in her chair. "What are you going to do when we win this thing?"
"Whenwe win? Someone's confident."
She gives a half-shrug. "I'm realistic. Neither of us are quitters and this beer is incredible. Ms. Mitchell and her colleagues are going to flip." She's not wrong.
"I'm going to use the magazine feature to expand Recon Roasters' wholesale business. Hopefully, I’ll get my coffee into more restaurants and shops up and down the coast."
"Smart." She nods approvingly. "I'm gonna establish The Sassy Siren as a legitimate regional craft brewery, not just a local beach beer producer. If that works, maybe I could expand distribution further north into Georgia and the Carolinas."
"Big plans."
"The biggest." She grins. "What, you think I'm running this place for fun?"
"No, I think it’s because you're stubborn and brilliant and refuse to do anything less than perfect."
The words are out before I can stop them, and Merri's eyes widen. For a second, neither of us speaks. Then Tommy arrives with two perfect pints of our winning coffee blonde ale, breaking the moment.
"To collaboration," Merri says, raising her glass.
I clink mine against hers. "To not killing each other."
"Cheers."
"Cheers," I echo.
The beer is amazing, with that subtle coffee flavor that makes you want to keep drinking. It's the type that's dangerously easy to finish.
