The man stopped reading. He looked over the top of his glasses at Julian, assessing him. Slowly, he closed his book and stood up, his knees popping audibly.
The old man turned and walked toward the back of the store, disappearing into a maze of towering shelves. Julian waited, listening to the muffled sounds of bottles being shifted. Minutes ticked by. Julian was about to give up and leave when the man reappeared, carrying a bottle coated in a thin layer of dust.
"Help you find something, kid?" the man asked without looking up. where to buy bacardi torched cherry rum
"I didn't say I didn't have it," the man interrupted, a slow smile creeping across his face. "I said it was hard to find."
"Found it hiding in the back corner of the stockroom," the man said, setting it on the counter with a satisfying thunk . "Must have been sitting there for years. Last one in the store. Heck, maybe the last one in the city." The man stopped reading
The next afternoon, Julian stood on his grandfather's porch, holding a glass filled with ice, cola, and a generous pour of the rare rum. Captain Ben took a long sip, his weathered face breaking into a wide, bright grin.
The label featured the iconic Bacardi bat, framed by deep red cherries and a hint of flame. The old man turned and walked toward the
Julian paid, thanked the man profusely, and practically ran back to his car. The bottle sat securely in the passenger seat, buckled in with the seatbelt.