Page 45 of Flights and Sights

A little while later, we caught a cab to the investor’s offices. The offices were in a six-story building designed for letting as much light as possible into the offices through massive windows. When we stepped out of the cab, Paxton hummed quietly, looking toward the top floor.

“You ready for this?”

He let out a slow exhale and nodded. “Let’s do it.”

The inside of the building was just as impressive as the outside—light everywhere, decorated in dark leather with shining chrome fixtures. We were greeted by a security guard sitting at a check-in station, a woman with soft curves and curly dark hair.

“Good morning. Names?” When we introduced ourselves, she nodded and gestured to the side. “I’ll give Jade a call and she’ll come get you two.”

It felt as if she’d been waiting for us—she probably had, come to think of it—and less than two minutes later, Jade Holloman was striding into the lobby. She had long, shining dark hair and wore a pencil skirt and a tucked-in jewel-toned green blouse.

“Gentlemen, it’s so good to finally meet you,” she said warmly. “I’m Jade. I work with Seth Avery and Bill Stanley. Let’s go on up and I’ll take you to the conference room. Can I get you anything? Water, tea, coffee?”

Paxton shook his head. “No thanks.”

“Same.” I followed Jade and Paxton as we made our way to the elevators and headed to the sixth floor. The elevator delivered us to the top and we stepped out to see a wall of glass with double doors leading into the offices.

“Right this way.” Jade turned down a hallway and we passed several glass-fronted offices before ending up in a conference room with a sprawling table made of dark wood, complemented by high-backed leather office chairs. One entire wall was a whiteboard that looked like it had never been written on.

At one end of the table were two men, one who looked in his forties with dirty blond hair and sharp, dark eyes, a laptop in front of him. The other appeared older, with salt and pepper hair whose gaze was fixed on his phone.

Jade knocked lightly on the conference room door. “I have Paxton Lowell and Callum Sinclair to join you.”

Both men looked up at us and the older one put on a slick, polished smile that didn’t quite go up to his eyes. They both stood.

“Gentlemen,” the older man said. “I’m Bill Stanley. This is my associate, Seth.” He nodded at the blond guy as he spoke.

We all shook each other’s hands, murmuring that it was good to meet them and offering the usual pleasantries. When we sat, Paxton leaned forward, placing his forearms on the table, looking calm and collected. Under the table, though, his leg bounced rapidly. I cautiously slid my foot closer to his and tapped his shoe with my own. Paxton settled then and shot me a small smile. I couldn’t tell if it was an apology or appreciation, but I smiled back and gave him the tiniest nod in return.

“Callum,” Bill said. “Your article was truly something special. Thank you for drawing our attention to Celestial Cask. Your writing made it sound so enchanting that we couldn’t resist calling for this meeting.”

“Thank you.” I gave a tight smile. “I appreciate the kind words.”

“Absolutely. We believe in Celestial Cask and its future and your article functions beautifully as proof of concept.”

I hummed and nodded in an effort to show appreciation. “All I did was highlight what’s already working.”

Bill turned toward Pax. “And you. You’ve turned your place from a family hobby into a booming business.”

“Hardly. My uncle, he’s the one who really had it take off. All I’ve done is maintain.”

“And that’s where we come in,” Seth said. “Let us show you our thinking.” He picked up a remote on the table and pressed a button. A projector mounted to the ceiling hummed and came to life, casting a slide deck onto the whiteboard.

Seth pressed a key on his laptop and the slide changed. “Here’s what we’re thinking.” The first few slides were renderings of a new home for Celestial Cask from several angles, showing a taproom with massive garage-style doors that were rolled up, letting the patrons spill into an outside seating area. There was a band playing in one corner of the outdoor space. The fermentation space was connected to the taproom still, but much, much larger in scope than I think even Paxton had anticipated. His brows were furrowed as Seth and Bill took turns pointing out different aspects of the renderings, including telling Paxton how they could make this happen for him.

On the next few slides were distribution plans. Celestial Cask in grocery stores, in bars, in restaurants. The reach was extensive, and they mentioned nationwide and even international sales. Paxton’s mouth was a tight line as he listened, nodding along.

As the investors talked, it occurred to me that this was so much more than Pax had ever said he dreamed of, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. They were proposing major changes, just as we’d expected, but the scope was far bigger than anything we’d heard about from the articles.

Paxton was quiet, asking only about the scope of the changes. “How many people would we seat? And how many staff would we need to take on?”

Bill answered smoothly, as if he’d known to anticipate Paxton’s easy questions. Soon enough, he was using terms like “equity stake” and “compounding growth.”

I cleared my throat to speak up. “How much risk would we be taking on in this expansion, and are you prepared to mitigate that if the plans don’t work out as you anticipate?”

Bill looked pleasantly surprised and he turned to Seth. “Excellent question. Why don’t we have Seth take this one?”

“We’re aware that high risk comes with high reward and we are confident in this project and secure in the plans.”