wick Ales! Chadwick Ales!" We had just won the gold medal at the Great American Beer Festival for our Imperial Stout, the biggest award i
rough from hauling grain sacks and cleaning tanks
tarted to walk towards the stage,
wife, the CEO
path. She grabbed Wesley, her brand manager, by t
he beamed at the crowd, her voice
in the shadows o
't a professional gesture. It was intimate, possessive. The cameras flashed, capturing the image of them, the "faces" of Chadw
ting finally ended. I found Nicole in our design
one all business, no wa
," I replied,
djusting the medal that hung around her neck. "About me and W
look of pure tri
tical. A forced one. To rest. It'll show the industry we're stable a
Wesley stepped forward. He was holding
," he said, his voice dripping with false sympa
p, my original recipe notebooks. The very soul of the brewery,
feeling like a tombstone. The betrayal was so complete, so cold, it
leaving them in the glow
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