Page 50 of Yours, Forever

Isla Negra's décor had to have been modernized in the recent past. Walls and ceiling were made of wood, but all vertical surfaces had been painted a matte, dark gray; meanwhile, the ceiling and other horizontal surfaces had been kept varnished but in their natural color. This included the bar, where a magnificent slab of raw-edge wood broke the minimalistic look. Metal and black leather stools hinted at an industrial flair in the design, a choice that included the comfortable chairs around the tables. The few booths by the wall, one of which I occupied, continued the dark gray and light, shiny wood style.

The place seemed half-full. Julián, one of the Quintana siblings that owned the pub, chatted with me about his vision for the distilling business.

"We want to take advantage of our setting," he said. "Start small, using local ingredients, until we can expand and sellthe liquor elsewhere. Eventually we want to sell across North America but, since our current production capacity is limited, we want to push luxury, handcrafted spirits first."

I nodded. I'd been nursing a drink all evening; I twirled the Glencairn glass in my hand.

"I like the sound of it." I took a whiff of the Scotch in the glass, before treating myself to a sip. "You have my card. Make sure to send my team a business plan. I'd like to talk more about—"

"Well, who do we have here?"

I glanced up to find an older man, maybe in his sixties. Salt and pepper hair and with a soft middle, he studied me with bright eyes.

"Oh, let him be, Hernán." Julián frowned.

The tension between them was clear enough that I automatically knew to be careful. My dad had forced coaching on me when I moved with him, and the hours upon hours of instruction kicked in all at once.

I stood and offered my hand. "Hello there. I am Maximiliano Errázuriz."

The man pursed his lips and further inspected me. For a moment I thought he'd reject my gesture, but he relented. He gave me a strong, hard shake. He even pulled from my hand in a power move; it wasn't common for me to be thankful for all those hours I spent being coached, but I had been taught well. I had been instructed to be ready for things like this. His pull didn't surprise me.

I gave him the most charming smile I could muster. "Whom do I owe the pleasure?"

"I am Hernán, Heritage Committee president."

"I see." I offered a seat at my booth. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Thank you."

"I'll leave you to it," Julián said. "I'll bring you something, Hernán. Behave, okay?"

Julián stood while the old man took his place.

"Send me the paperwork," I reminded Julián as he left with a nod my way.

Focused again on the man keeping me company, Hernán and I engaged in a stare off. Surprising, that it would take this long for us to meet.

He pursed his lips again. "I've heard a lot of chatter around town about you."

"All good things, I hope?"

"People are excited. They think you'll single-handedly change the future of the town."

"That is far from the truth. I've signed a few deals and I'm still hearing proposals. You may know that I plan to invest in multiple local businesses. That will help boost the town's overall financial situation. Still, without the people of Laguna Island coming up with ideas and execution plans, I can't do anything."

A server appeared with a beer for Hernán.

The man took a drink from it, eyes fixed on me. "Just like that? You're investing here?"

"After due diligence, but yes. Why wouldn't I?"

"All because you married one of our own." His lips quirked.

I tapped my fingers on the table and studied him right back. My wife had been right to warn me about the Heritage Committee.

Hernán gazed at Isla Negra's patrons around us. "I guess me and the rest of us worry about growing too fast or, above all, losing direction. We don't want to lose the town's charm in the process, either."

"Laguna Island is an incredibly charming town. Everyone I've talked to wants the best for the community."