Unpretty Me

Now Brewing #05: Team Building and Tequila

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The beach resort gleamed under the sun, its pristine sand stretching out like a blank canvas just waiting for chaos. The employees of That's So Brewed, You're So Kneady and Treat Your Shelf arrived in high spirits, dragging coolers, bags, and one giant inflatable unicorn.

Luke stood by the entrance, watching as his staff sprinted toward the ocean like kids set free from school. "This was a great idea," he muttered, feeling quite pleased with himself.

"Come on, Irma! The ocean's not gonna swim itself!" Bea shouted from the shore, already kicking off her sandals.

Isla gave her an exasperated look. "For the last time, it's Isla! Stop encouraging him!" She shot a glance at Luke, who gave her a sheepish grin.

"Isabelle?" Luke tried.

Isla groaned, muttering under her breath, "One of these days, I swear..."

The first order of business was a sandcastle-building competition, because what's a beach trip without grown adults furiously sculpting wet sand like it's the Olympics?

Teams formed quickly—Bea, Rey, and Isla were one team, while Luke somehow ended up with two of the booksellers, who were already arguing about whether a castle moat was historically accurate.

"Guys, it's sand," Luke said, trying not to laugh.

Bea's team was clearly in it to win. Isla took charge, fashioning towers with architectural precision while Rey sculpted a tiny dragon. Bea's job was to make sure their creation stayed upright by occasionally yelling, "Support that tower! It's leaning!"

Meanwhile, Luke's team spent 30 minutes debating the difference between crenellations and battlements, resulting in what could only be described as a very elaborate pile of mud.

When time was called, Isla stepped back and admired their masterpiece. "Behold: Castle de La Caffeine!"

Luke surveyed both castles, trying to suppress his grin. "Isabelle's team wins," he declared.

"It's Isla!" Isla groaned. "How are you even still messing this up?"

"I'm consistent," Luke said with a wink.

Next came the sack races. A line was drawn in the sand, and the contestants squeezed into burlap sacks, ready to hop their way to glory.

"This is serious business," Bea whispered to Isla, her game face on.

"Why do I feel like someone's going to break a bone?" Isla whispered back, adjusting her sack around her hips.

Rey was already hopping in place like an overexcited kangaroo. "You guys are going down!"

Luke joined the race, his long legs folded awkwardly into the sack. He gave Isla a mischievous grin. "Ready to lose, Irma?"

"ISLA!" she shouted, laughing despite herself.

The whistle blew, and chaos erupted. People tripped, sand flew everywhere, and Bea screamed as Rey accidentally veered into her lane. Luke hopped like a man on a mission, but his sack caught on a rock, sending him sprawling.

Isla hopped past him triumphantly. "See you at the finish line, boss!"

Luke rolled onto his back, laughing so hard he couldn't even be mad.

By late afternoon, the games gave way to lounging under beach umbrellas, with fruity drinks flowing freely. Somewhere along the way, someone broke out the tequila, and things escalated from friendly team building to wild karaoke on the sand.