After reaching the town hall, which was little more than a brick-and-mortar house, Francisco asked to see the mayor. At the time, the mayor was Joaquín Tirado, a member of the cabildo. During colonial times, the cabildo held administrative, judicial, economic, and political power, so its members were often very busy.
"Mr. Gómez, the mayor asked me to have you wait. He is speaking with another family," said the mayor's subordinate. Francisco thanked him politely and started talking with catalina.
"What do you think of your first day as my personal assistant?" Francisco asked with a smug smile.
Catalina punched him lightly on the shoulder, making him rub it. "Ouch. No salary for this month," Francisco joked, trying and failing to regain his authority.
"Oh? And what is my salary, if I may ask?" Catalina teased playfully.
"I need to review your work first to determine a preliminary acceptable salary," Francisco replied, trying to sound professional.
"So you don't pay me, right?" she said with a teasing grin.
"Well, I can give you a couple of kisses if you want," Francisco said boldly.
"You wish! That's more of a prize for you than for me," Catalina rolled her eyes.
"Now, seriously," Catalina said, adopting a reproachful tone. "You're spending a lot on this project of yours. I recognize your father is relatively wealthy, but at this rate, by the time the factory is operational, you might already be in debt."
"Is it that bad?" Francisco asked, slightly embarrassed.
"Not at all. Between slaves and infrastructure, you've already spent around 3,000 pesos — roughly a year's income for your father's estate in a good year. And this is only his first year managing the estate, so he's basically working for free right now," Catalina said firmly.
"Umm… you may be right. My father gave me freedom to spend, but I haven't even checked how much money is in the estate," Francisco admitted.
"Exactly. Before any further expenses, you should wait until you make a profit. I imagine your father has other investments with merchants, but if you spend everything on the estate, he would probably be disappointed."
"You're right. Let's do this: when we return to the estate, I'll give you access to the treasury so you can count the money. Then we'll know how much we can spend and how much to save. We should also leave a reserve for a bad year," Francisco said.
"So you're really planning to exploit me," Catalina sighed.
"You know how criollas and mestizas families usually leave money for their wives to manage. I'm just helping you prepare so you can take over once we marry," Francisco grinned.
"Oh really? So can I cut expenses on your food and clothes?" teased Catalina.
"If you think it's necessary, I don't oppose," shrugged Francisco.
"Mr. Gómez, the mayor is ready to see you. Please follow me," said the subordinate, interrupting the playful exchange between Francisco and Catalina.
they followed him up the stairs. Midway, they noticed a woman in an expensive European-style dress, her face lightly made up. Both nodded politely as they passed.
"Who is she?" Catalina asked. The subordinate ignored her.
"My personal assistant asked a question," Francisco said sharply. The subordinate looked at Catalina with disdain, then smiled at Francisco.
"She is one of the daughters of Marquis Lozano de Peralta. They are interested in investing and buying properties. The marquis intends to open a branch in Antioquía, but for now, it seems to be just an estate, probably waiting for the region to develop," the subordinate explained.
Francisco's face tightened in irritation, but Catalina stopped him with a gentle touch. "You shouldn't make an enemy of the mayor subordinades. Even with less influence than your father, they could cause problems. It's not worth it," she whispered. Francisco sighed and calmed himself.
Through the door, Mayor Joaquín sat drinking coffee and reading La Gazeta de Santa Fe de Bogotá, which had started publishing just five years earlier. The newspaper seemed focused on the political situation in Bogotá.
"Mr. Mayor, Mr. Gómez is here to see you," the subordinate announced and then stepped aside.
Joaquín raised his face from the paper and smiled broadly. "Welcome, Mr. Gómez. I've heard some things about you," he said, showing Francisco an article about his father's actions at the palace. "Your father is clever. He saw the problems in the viceroyalty and tried to warn the viceroy, but those blind fools ignored him," Joaquín said, pointing to critiques of his father's opposition to bloodline policies and constant wars then sighed.
"Well, whatever I've heard… you're going to open a distillery?" he asked, excited.
"That's right," Francisco replied.
"Good. How will you sell?" the mayor asked.
"I'm not sure yet. I plan to take the liquor to Cartagena and sell it to the Cádiz Company, where my father works," Francisco said, thinking.
"Can you sell it in Medellín and let the Cádiz Company handle transport to Cartagena?" Joaquín asked, a little embarrassed.
"May I know why?" Francisco raised his eyes.
"Taxes," Joaquín replied, a little embarrassed. "If you take your product to Cartagena, we cannot collect them here, but you would still be taxed in Cartagena. Selling in Medellín allows us to offer a lower rate, and the money can be used locally."
Francisco, wary of corruption, asked, "May I ask what you plan to do with those taxes?"
Joaquín understood immediately. "Don't worry. It's not for ourselves. I've read The Wealth of Nations by Adam Smith, and I've been thinking about how to improve commerce in Antioquía, especially Medellín. With roads, bridges, and canals, we could attract more people, but that requires money. Most local estates avoid taxes, so right now, nearly all our revenue comes from citizens, who make little. We're barely surviving," Joaquín sighed, frustrated by his ambition and limited resources.
"Can you tell me roughly what rate you would give for sales? If it's more expensive than Cartagena, forget it," Francisco asked.
Joaquín's eyes lit up. "Of course not! Right now, taxes on sales in Cartagena are 5%. If you sell here, I can offer a 3% rate. In exchange, I'll send men to protect your cargo until it leaves Antioquía."
Francisco thought for a moment. "I have no problem in principle, but I need to talk with my father to see what the Cádiz Company thinks."
"Of course. We can wait. If I'm not mistaken, your father will organize a banquet next month in Antioquía, so we can discuss it then," Joaquín said, hope shining in his eyes.
"I think that's fine. If all goes well, we can enjoy the first finished product then. It's not much, but building these structures will take time. Even if the master builder starts all three projects immediately, it could take 12–18 months to have the distillery at full capacity. We'll use a warehouse at the start to test the market," Francisco explained, headache forming at the long construction timeline.
"That's ambitious. You truly want to produce quickly, but please don't damage your reputation by selling low-quality alcohol. I don't want Medellín to be known for poor liquor," the mayor pleaded.
"Don't worry. This also affects my interests," Francisco said with a grin. "My assistant here just told me I've spent too much money already."
Joaquín looked at Catalina, nodded politely, and seemed to understand their unusual relationship. He didn't mind, though—being a royalist liberal, he found bloodline theories ridiculous.
"Having said that, what did you need me for?" he asked, remembering Francisco's purpose for the visit.
"I want to build a road from my estate to Villa de Medellín," Francisco said. "I don't want to be blocked after it's built, so I hoped to reach a deal with you. My family would have the right of priority for the road, at least for transporting liquor."
"Interesting," Joaquín said. "You don't want to collect tolls, only the right of priority?"
"Yes. Francisco explained.
The mayor thought for a moment and then explained, "This has never been done officially. Some mines have similar rights, but they aren't formalized in a contract. I can help, but you must inform the farmers and members of the estates."
"Fantastic, thanks, Mayor," Francisco said. He shook Joaquín's hand and added, "We should leave now — there's much to do." Then he and Catalina headed out.