"My role is to oversee the production of sugar, and your task is to handle the sales. We'll distribute the profits on a 40-60 basis," Logan outlined the partnership terms.
"You take 60, I take 40!" Fisher countered instantly.
"Out of the question!" I quickly retorted upon hearing his suggestion.
My brother-in-law is quite the cunning fox. He knows his way around the market. With just one sales channel under his belt and several mouths to feed on his team, his 60% cut would barely leave him with 20% after all expenses. He's trying to have me work only for Logan to reap the benefits he thought.
"Forty-sixty is already stretching it, Fisher. How about ninety-ten in my favor?" Logan proposed, reversing the numbers drastically.
"Logan, why are we even debating this with him? We could collaborate with someone else who'd be more reasonable. This is just brutal!" Jean protested vehemently.
The room grew tense. Fisher rubbed his temples in frustration. It was evident that familial ties were making this negotiation tougher than usual.
Despite everything, Jean's staunch support was heartening; she was already siding with me completely, even before our marriage.
In typical scenarios, Logan would've walked away by now to gain leverage, but negotiating with family complicated matters.
After a thoughtful pause, Logan suggested a new approach, "Here's an alternative, Fisher. If a profit split doesn't sit well with you, how about I supply you the brown sugar directly? You handle the resale, the pricing, the marketing, and the distribution. I stay out of it."
"That sounds promising," Fisher acknowledged with a nod.
"However, I'd need to know your selling price to me. Also, will you be supplying to other vendors as well?" Fisher inquired, his business acumen showing.
"The pricing will have to wait. I need to calculate the costs accurately," I replied, maintaining transparency.
"As for other vendors, that will depend on your ability to push the product. If you're unable to move the volume, I'll need to open up distribution to others," I explained.
"I see," Fisher murmured, pondering over the new information.
"I'll need some time to think this through," he concluded after a pause.
"Take all the time you need," I responded, hoping we'd find common ground soon.
After a prolonged business discussion with Jean's brother, dusk enveloped the sky, and the welcoming warmth of Jean's family persuaded Logan to join them for dinner. As night fell, he found himself staying at their hospitable home.
Her reply came with a playful tilt of her head, "What, did you miss me?" she teased, gently grasping his arm.
Logan merely smiled, his attention briefly captured by a stream of clear, white liquid beginning to drip steadily from the steamer's pipe. "It smells wonderful, doesn't it?" he remarked.
"Is that the wine?" Jean inquired, her interest piqued as she observed the process.
"Yes, that's it!" Logan confirmed as the flow from the pipe grew stronger and more consistent, soon mirrored by the other three steamers. Within moments, the rich aroma of wine permeated the kitchen.
As the heady scent filled the air, everyone present couldn't help but take deep, appreciative breaths, marveling at the transformative magic of distillation. Logan watched, a sense of pride swelling within him as his future brewers absorbed every detail of the craft.
"This wine is incredibly clear and fragrant!" Jean exclaimed, peering curiously into the barrel where a layer of liquid sat, seemingly mere water at first glance, yet the rich aroma unmistakably betrayed its true nature.
Logan, choosing not to delve into the technicalities of how fermented wine typically appears turbid while distilled wine is akin to vapor, purity in essence, simply nodded.
"May I try some?" Jean's eagerness was palpable, sparking a similar longing among the onlookers like Cadia and Tyton, who audibly swallowed their anticipation.
"Not just yet," Logan cautioned, his voice firm but patient. "This is 'Sake,' and it's exceptionally potent. Even seasoned drinkers can find themselves overwhelmed by a mere sip."
"Really?" Jean challenged, skepticism lacing her tone. "I've handled five pounds of wine before and barely felt a buzz!"
Logan couldn't help but shake his head with a mild chuckle. The wine she referred to was less than 20% alcohol, comparable to beer. But this Sake? It could reach an astonishing 70 to 80% alcohol content.
"Just the smell can make one dizzy," he explained further. "Distilled spirits are segmented into three parts: the head, the heart, and the tails. Each segment has a different potency, and the art lies in blending them to achieve a balanced spirit."
Intrigued, Jean leaned in, her interest clearly piqued. "Could I possibly try it?"
Knowing he could hardly deny her, Logan smiled and said, "Seeing is believing, after all."
With a nod of anticipation from Jean, who boasted a far superior tolerance than himself, Logan carefully poured a measure into a wooden bowl and handed it to her. "Enjoy, but be cautious," he advised.
"It smells divine," Jean murmured, bringing the bowl to her lips and taking a generous swig before Logan could offer any further warning.
Just as the liquid hit her palate, Logan started to intervene, foreseeing the potential impact. But it was too late, a thud resounded as Jean's knees buckled slightly from the unexpected potency.
Logan sighed, half in amusement, half in exasperation. Jean was indeed a woman who charged forward, consequences be damned!