Travis took a long pull on his beer. “Bull. Where’d you hear that?”

Matt shrugged. “You know how it goes. There aren’t that many of us in the business, relatively speaking, and we’ve all got bar gossip down. They were just a couple of passing comments, but enough that I wanted to talk to you.”

Silent and clearly torn between anger and embarrassment, Travis turned his attention to the television. Matt did the same.

After the Spartans completed a fourth-down conversion that was a work of art, Travis asked, “If I do have a cash crunch, why would you care?”

“A few reasons. First, I like your product. And you remind me of me, ten years ago. You’ve got all the enthusiasm of a homebrewer and, unfortunately, all the business skills of one, too. But I think, given some time, you’re gonna kick ass.”

“If I’m so hot, why didn’t you hire me as a brewer when I came to you four years ago?”

“You and Bart working together?” he asked, referring to his brewmaster. “One or both of you would have been dead inside a month.”

Bart was one of Matt’s closest friends, and also the only guy out there who could consistently kick Matt’s butt at poker. Bart’s competitive streak didn’t stop at cards, either. When it came to beer, he was as determined to remain top dog as Travis was to attain that status.

Travis scratched the spider tattoo on the side of his neck. “Suppose I was having money troubles, just what is it you’re proposing?”

“A loan and a leg up,” Matt said. “There’s a niche market I think you can fill. And I also think you can help me. You have both the skills and the edgy attitude for a project I’m working on.”

Travis shook his head. “So you think I’m good, but not good enough to make it big?”

“Not yet.”

“You pulled it off.”

“Yeah, but I also screwed up plenty along the way. Why not ride along on a little of what I’ve learned, like how you’re killing yourself by changing up recipes so often? It’s like you’ve got beer ADD.”