Tall, with gray hair neatly swept back and intellectual-looking glasses, Richard Sands carried an air of intimidation that seemed to emanate naturally from his appearance alone. Of course, that did not work on William, but even so, that self-assured demeanor of his was enough to grate on the Emperor of Napa.
William fastened the button of his tailored suit and lifted one corner of his mouth.
“Richard, you still have an uncanny nose for the vulgar stench of money. I thought you’d be in your New York office staring at charts.”
The gazes of the two titans collided in midair. To William Harlan, Richard Sands was a shameless capitalist who had carved out the heart of Napa, “Robert Mondavi,” with money; to Richard, William was nothing more than a snobbish old man of the same breed as himself, who packaged himself as if he were a true wine lover.
“Aren’t you just as sensitive to the smell of money, acting like the Emperor of Napa? I thought wine was all you loved, and now brandy too? William, I feel this every time I talk to you... but that martyr cosplay of yours gets more refined with age. As if you’d spent your whole life down in this mud, living with dirt under your fingernails.”
William’s eyebrows trembled faintly, his pride scratched. Richard did not miss the opening and approached with a sneer.
“Let’s be honest. Have you forgotten what you did before you came to Napa? You were a capable real estate speculator buying and selling buildings in San Francisco. This great fortress called Harlan Estate is ultimately just one of the real estate portfolios you built with that speculation money, isn’t it? And now you’re acting like some knight guarding the Holy Grail.”
Richard leaned his face close to William’s shoulder and murmured in a low voice.
“You look down on me as a merchant, but the truth is, we’re the same species. I’m transparent inside and out, while you’re a cunning investor who wraps that filthy inside of yours in the packaging of aristocratic make-believe to raise the price. To my ears, that word terroir you keep chanting sounds like nothing more than an elegant excuse for premium real estate.”
William, who had been quietly staring into Richard’s gleaming eyes, lifted one corner of his mouth.
“Seeing you come out so rough from the start, Ruby Quartz must have shaken you quite badly. Do you want it that much?”
This time, Richard’s expression stiffened slightly. At that, William let his voice rise and fall mockingly as he denounced him.
“Swallowing Robert wasn’t enough, so now even the brandy distillery of some nameless young man? Constellation’s hunger truly has no end. And you, who should be in New York, have personally graced this countryside with your presence? This must be an item I simply cannot afford to miss.”
At the venomous look of his rival, Richard lightly shrugged and swept his gaze over the inside of the distillery.
“Swallowing? What a harsh expression. I merely rescued a legacy that had fallen behind the times. Robert’s name is hanging in the best spots of supermarkets all over the world through our distribution network. Isn’t that the true way to preserve value? Rather than letting it rot as the exclusive possession of a privileged few, as you do.”
He adjusted the frame of his glasses and added.
“And this thing called Ruby Quartz. After reading Food & Wine, I understood why you were in such a hurry. A single glass of this brat’s brandy is opening the wallets of New York buyers faster than the Cabernet of Harlan Estate, the so-called pride of Napa. To you, that must be an insult, but to me, it’s nothing less than a golden egg.”
“Hmph! A notion worthy of a lowly merchant. I can see exactly what you’d do if you bought this distillery. You’d dilute the base spirit like water and mix in artificial flavoring to produce some cheap trash like ‘Ruby Quartz Light.’ Just like you drove Mondavi’s wines onto convenience store shelves. Knowing that, do you really think the owner of this place would choose you?”
“Oh, William. Do you want to play aristocrat again? In front of me, no less? Let’s be honest. You didn’t come here to protect this liquor. You came to euthanize it, didn’t you? Before that monster named Brian of Redwood disrupts Napa’s hierarchy, you intend to dry up the seed entirely... Others may not know, but I do.”
Just as William’s brows, heated with anger, bent into an inverted V, the distillery’s old iron door opened with a creak.
“Uh... Are you the two gentlemen coming today?”
At the appearance of Jacob, whose bulk was like a mountain but whose face was still unmistakably that of a young man, both titans turned their heads at the same time.
“That’s right.”
“We are.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Jacob Miller, the owner of the distillery.”
He immediately extended an arm toward the inside of the building.
“Shall we go inside and talk first?”
The distillery had recently been expanded, and unlike before, it had become fairly large and refined, yet it was still far from luxurious enough to satisfy the eyes of the two titans. But neither of them had any interest in the interior of the building. Both knew far too well just how valuable this place was.
“I already told both of you that I had no intention of selling the distillery... but since you said you were coming in person, I thought I might as well arrange it for the same time.”
After saying that, Jacob looked back and forth between William and Richard, then cautiously continued.
“It hasn’t been long since Ruby Quartz was released, but I find it meaningful to keep growing the distillery, and I genuinely enjoy making and selling liquor on-site, so there’s no particular reason for me to sell it. So, from my standpoint...”
In any case, as Jacob was delivering a refusal, he tried to do so as carefully as possible out of consideration for the two men, but William raised a hand. It was a gesture that said there was no need to hear any more.
Then William Harlan ignored Richard Sands as though he were an unwelcome intruder who had trespassed onto his domain, and stared at Jacob across the desk. To William, the very fact that this young man, barely twenty-five years old, was holding a treasure of Napa felt like a kind of sacrilege.
But knowing what business was, he did not reveal his displeasure, speaking instead in a very friendly and relaxed voice.
“Jacob, I heard you’re twenty-five now. Younger than my son. Though you haven’t spent long in front of that old still, you met a friend named Brian and came into possession of a liquor that could shake Napa’s history. You obtained a stroke of fortune that most people could never attain in an entire lifetime.”
“I think so as well.”
As Jacob obediently nodded, William continued.
“But listen, young man. A great wave is not something a young sailor can handle. While you’re intoxicated by Ruby Quartz’s success, conspiracies, lawsuits, and pressure from distribution networks will begin in places you cannot see, all to swallow you whole.”
Watching Jacob flinch slightly, William looked straight into the young man’s eyes.
“I did not come here simply to buy you out. Have you heard of Harlan Estate?”
“... Of course. Anyone who makes alcohol couldn’t possibly not know Harlan Estate.”
“I thought as much. Especially if your friend is Brian of Redwood... What I’m offering you is the chance to become a member of our family. Do you know what that means?”
“That’s...”
“Yes, you may not know. Your distillery becoming a member of our family means that you will no longer be a nameless distiller from the outskirts, but will go down in history as ‘Harlan’s youngest master distiller.’ What I’m offering you is not something as paltry as cash. It is honor and permanence that your family can enjoy for generations. If you enter within Harlan’s walls, no one will dare covet your reputation. Wouldn’t that be the most perfect insurance a twenty-five-year-old young man could have?”
William’s proposal was lethal. In Napa Valley, entering within the walls called Harlan meant becoming not merely wealthy, but a member of the nobility at the upper reaches of mainstream society.
At that moment, Richard Sands, who had been listening quietly, let out a snort of laughter and adjusted his glasses.
“Honor, is it... William, you still haven’t escaped your nineteenth-century British aristocrat game. Listen, Jacob. Honor won’t fill your bank account. And the Harlan name tag will ultimately be nothing more than a shackle that locks all your talent beneath William’s feet.”
Richard leaned forward and gave Jacob a friendly smile. But that smile was the smile of a seasoned predator aiming for the most vital point of its prey.
“Jacob, I don’t want you to grow old in this cramped distillery, spending your life wiping oak barrels. Constellation Brands is a giant corporation with the world’s finest distribution network. If you join hands with us, ‘Jacob’s Reserve,’ bearing your name, will adorn the duty-free shops of New York, London, and Tokyo. Have you ever imagined what it would feel like to become the icon of a global brand at twenty-five?”
Richard’s voice was like a sweet temptation.
“If William sees you as a flowerpot to decorate his castle walls, I intend to raise you into a lion that will command the global liquor market. I’ll hand over a portion of our company’s distribution network shares to you. Without moving from your seat, you’ll stand shoulder to shoulder with the young billionaires of Wall Street. This is the exit of your life, and a new beginning.”
The two men’s persuasion was perfect. One side stimulated the fundamental human desire for a rise in status, while the other promised overwhelming capital and success. Jacob was only a twenty-five-year-old young man. Money and honor that he could never touch even if he worked diligently his whole life came surging toward him like a wave.
Jacob’s shoulders trembled faintly, and he swallowed hard. He had never imagined in his life that he would receive offers like this.
“... I truly appreciate what both of you have said. It feels like a dream that someone like me would receive such offers.”
Jacob let out a deep sigh and lowered his head. In the eyes of both William and Richard, a glimmer of certainty in victory passed. But Jacob’s next words shattered their arrogance in an instant.
“Unfortunately, however, I cannot sell this distillery. No, to be precise, even if I did sell it, neither of you would gain anything.”
At the incomprehensible statement, William Harlan’s brow narrowed.
“Gain nothing? If the price is the problem, later, separately...”
William had already mentioned as much as forty-five million dollars over the phone, but if price was the problem, he could raise it further. But Jacob shook his head.
“It isn’t a matter of price.”
After taking a moment to steady his breath, Jacob raised his head and looked straight at the two titans. In his eyes, instead of hesitation, there was firm trust directed toward someone.
“I don’t know if you’re aware, but this distillery is not fundamentally one hundred percent my shares. From the time it was established, thirty percent has belonged to Redwood, the winery of my friend Brian. It was set up that way because our distillery makes liquor using recipes provided by Brian of Redwood.”
“But if you, who hold seventy percent, make the decision, there should be no problem selling it.”
“That’s right. There’s no problem selling it. But between our Golden Grain Soju House and Redwood, there is a Termination upon Change of Control clause. When Brian made the contract with me, it included a clause stating that if the ownership or management rights of this distillery change, all recipes and process technologies he provided immediately lose effect.”
The eyes behind Richard Sands’s glasses froze for an instant.
“What the...?”
“The walls of this building and those tanks do belong to me. But the core technology for making Ruby Quartz, as well as ownership of the recipes for ‘The One’ and ‘Peach Light,’ belong not to me, but to Brian. I have only been loaned the right to use those technologies while I retain management control.”
Then Jacob pulled a thick contract from his desk drawer and placed it on the table.
“According to the clauses in this contract, the moment I sell the distillery, I become someone who can no longer make Ruby Quartz. Whichever one of you acquires this factory, what you’ll get your hands on is nothing more than an old warehouse and empty tanks. It means that without Brian’s permission, you cannot legally extract even a single drop of cherry aroma.”
A cold silence drifted through the office.
“Son of a bitch...”
A low curse escaped Richard Sands’s mouth.
A “Change of Control” clause. How had mere young men in their twenties managed to place such an advanced mechanism, usually used in M&A between major corporations to prevent the departure of key talent, into a distillery contract?