She opened the door, and he was surprised to see she looked like she hadn’t gotten much sleep either. Was the fundraiser going that badly?
“Is everything okay?” he asked. “You look tired.”
“You’re saying that to me?” she said with a smirk. “You should look in the mirror, bud.” She waved behind her. “Come in. Take a seat.”
It looked just like he remembered it. Hell, from what he could tell, she even had the same furniture in there, although everything smelled powerfully of dog.
“I’m not so sure I want to,” he said, wrinkling his nose.
“Oh, don’t be a baby. I’ll leave the door open.”
She did, and he sat on the old upholstered window seat, and she sat across from him on a rickety old chair. It was only after they’d taken their seats that he realized their positions mimicked those of a therapist and patient. Appropriate enough.
“You’re not bringing Hops back,” she said. “I refuse.”
He looked away, ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t take care of him anymore, Maisie. I had to quit the brewery. I found out…I found out Beau was going to leave it to me. He changed his mind, but he left a crazy clause in his will. If the brewery doesn’t place in the top five at Brewfest, it goes to me anyway. Georgie knew. We…we decided to give it a try. Being together, working together.” His voice took on a ragged edge he didn’t much like. “But she’s known for weeks, and she didn’t tell me.”
“I know,” she said, not that he was surprised. “You’ll be annoyed to hear that Finn called an emergency breakfast session with me and Dottie this morning.”
He let out an exhale that was somewhere between a sound of annoyance and a laugh. “Sounds more like something Aunt Dottie would do.”
“What can I say? I guess she’s rubbed off on all of us.” She held his gaze, something intense in her eyes. “River, Dottie’s pretty upset. Finn too. Neither of them think Georgie was playing you. In fact…” She cleared her throat. “Dottie says she’s positive Georgie’s in love with you.”
Something warm unfurled in him, but he shut it down quickly. “I didn’t think she was playing me…she’s not like that. It’s just…she didn’t trust me. I told her that I didn’t want us to start anything unless she was sure, and she still didn’t tell me.”
“Which is shitty,” Maisie said softly. “No one’s saying otherwise. But don’t you think she was maybe worried you’d react just like you’re reacting?” She paused, tilting her head a little, and then said words that drove a knife into him. “Do you think you’re the only one who’s afraid of being left?”
A feeling akin to horror passed over him. Was that how Georgie felt? Like he’d left her? Like he’d decided she wasn’t good enough? He thought again of those postcards. He’d looked at them after the drive back from Savannah, comparing them to one of his aunt’s grocery lists, and sure enough, they’d been in her writing.
“Why are you so sure that’s why she didn’t tell me?” he said through numb lips. “They needed me to help make the brewery competitive. Jack thought I would tank them if I knew about the will.”
“Yeah, Jack thought that,” she said. “But who the hell is Jack? You don’t know him, and from what Dottie said, Georgie doesn’t really know him either. Why should his opinion matter that much to you?” She looked away for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “Do you honestly think Georgie distrusted you?”
And that was the real question, wasn’t it?
“No,” he finally said. “No, I don’t. But this hurts like hell, and I hate that Beau put us into this mess. I…it makes me feel like I didn’t know him at all.”
She rose from her chair then, and came to sit beside him. “You knew him, River,” she said softly. “But he wasn’t a perfect man. He also wasn’t a psychic man. I don’t think he had the first idea you’d end up leaving Big Catch. If he’d thought you would end up taking a job at Buchanan, he never would have arranged things that way.”
She was right. Everything she’d said was right. And it penetrated the wall of hurt that had built up inside of him. Something long pent up let loose, and he felt tears course down his cheeks for the first time since Beau had died.
“I messed everything up, Maisie. I’m not sure how to make it right. I wonder if I even can.”
She took him in her arms and held him, just held him, for a moment, letting him cry. Then she pulled back and wiped his tears.
“You can, and you will. Do you love Georgie?”
The answer was so easy, it made him feel even more foolish for treating her the way he had. For walking away like she meant nothing to him.
“I do.”
She nodded, as if that was what she’d expected, but she looked almost sad about it.
“Then you’re going to get your girl back. And your job, obviously.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Oh?”
He told her about the contract he’d signed—the noncompete and the new fraternization clause—and she scowled as if she’d eaten a lemon.
“Her brothers sound like controlling douchebags,” she said, “especially the one who knew about the will. You should have taken Georgie’s advice and had Finn look at it. He never would have let you sign that.”
He sighed. “I know.”
“And you also know what you have to do, right?” She took a dramatic pause. “Give that controlling douchebag a call.”
“Ugh,” he said, feeling his head ache again through the pain reliever he’d taken. “I hate that you’re right about that too.”
She grinned and pointed to herself. “You can’t go wrong if you stick with this controlling douchebag.”
“Har-de-har-har.” He motioned to the space around them. “Why here, Maisie? Why not at your office or my apartment?”
An almost wistful look passed over her face. “It just seemed right,” she said. “It was always a safe place for us, wasn’t it? I hoped it would be one for you now.”
He hugged her again, holding on tight, bolstering himself for what was to come, and as soon as she pulled away, she said, “And no matter what happens, that’s an absolute no about Hops. In fact, I already filled out the adoption paperwork for you.”
“You are a controlling douchebag,” he teased, stepping back as she fake-swatted him. “Are you coming tonight?”
“No,” she said simply. “I don’t think so. But you’re going to tell me everything.”
* * *
Back in his car, he checked the rest of his texts. Finn was worried and apologetic. Apparently Georgie’s reaction had convinced him that she hadn’t deviously plotted the whole thing, but he still thought it was a bad idea for River to get involved with his boss. He couldn’t help but smile a little at that—even Finn’s apology texts were paragraphs.
Noted, he responded. After all of this is over, let’s get a beer or make one.
Aunt Dottie’s messages were frantic enough that he thought it best to call her.
She answered on the first ring, and he could hear the Buchanan tasting room in the background. He felt an odd pang at that.
“River, where are you?” Aunt Dottie said, and the guilt he’d felt toward Georgie doubled. Tripled. She’d worried he would leave. That he would just drive off the way her niece always had.
“I’m okay,” he said. “I’m at Maisie’s. She just talked some sense into me.”
A relieved gust of air made him pull the phone away from his ear. “Oh, thank heavens. Are you coming over to talk to Georgie? She’s had the door of her office shut all day, but I heard her crying in there, poor dear.”
And if that didn’t make him feel terrible…
“Not yet,” he said, “I have to talk to Jack first. I want to be with Georgie, but I don’t like all this closed-doors business. All of these lies and misunderstandings. I know she doesn’t either. I need to clear the air.”
“Speaking of misunderstandings,” she said, “I hope you don’t think Beau did thi
s to spite you, or because he didn’t believe in you. When you told him you were happy at Big Catch, he didn’t want to get in the way of that. The way he structured the will—he did it because he wanted to make sure his grandkids took it seriously. Those Buchanans have competition running in their blood, he said, and he figured it would fire them up. I also think he wanted them to get to know you. It was his way of ensuring it. I wonder now if it was a mistake.”
“Let’s hope not, Aunt Dottie. I’m going to do everything I can to make it right.”
When he got home, he hugged Hops to his chest.
“I guess you’re sticking with me, buddy,” he said, and the little dog licked him. And then he picked up the apartment, so as not to look like an insane person, and video-called Jack.
Jack picked up on the first ring.
Chapter 37
“He’s not coming,” Georgie said, scanning the room for the hundredth time.
Adalia put her hand on Georgie’s arm and squeezed. “I know this is easier said than done, but try to enjoy the party. All of these people are here to celebrate Grandpa Beau and you, Georgie. They’re excited you’re rebuilding his legacy.”
“Not anymore,” Georgie said, fighting the urge to cry.
A twenty-something man walked up and extended his hand, one of about a hundred in the last hour, or so it seemed, whose faces had all blended together. “I hear you’re Georgie Buchanan.”
“That’s right,” she said, forcing a smile as she shook his hand. “And this is my sister Adalia.”
Adalia took his hand next. “Call me Addy.”
The man’s smile grew bigger. “Call me Ned. Are you part of the family business too?”
“Sure am,” she said with a flirty look. “The Buchanan sisters are taking the Asheville brewing world by storm.”
He laughed.
“Along with our brothers,” Georgie added.
The man kept his gaze on Adalia, making it clear he didn’t give a hoot about their brothers. Georgie felt a little prick of protectiveness, but at the same time, she felt lucky her sister was around to butter people up. She currently felt about as charming as a cardboard box.
“They’re more like silent partners,” Addy said with a wink.
Adalia had come into work with Georgie that morning, and Dottie had given her the grand tour (Dottie’s words). She’d come back to Georgie’s office practically glowing with positivity—this was something Georgie ascribed to the Dottie Effect, a little-studied phenomenon about what happened when people drank Dottie’s Kool-Aid.
“She’s right about one thing,” Adalia had said. “It has good vibes. I feel weirdly at home here.”
Georgie had smiled at her, but with tears in her eyes. “I felt that way too.”
“We’ll talk sense into him, Georgie. Dottie says he just needs a little bit of time.”
Georgie hoped so, but she also knew how badly she’d messed up. There was a chance River might forgive her, but he likely wouldn’t forget. And even if he agreed to come back to work, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle the pain of seeing him every day, knowing how much he despised what she’d done to him. Knowing what could have been if she’d only been stronger.
“I want to be part of this, Georgie,” Adalia had said earnestly. “I want to help reopen Buchanan Brewery.”
That had choked Georgie up—how much would she have loved to hear that two weeks ago?—and she’d fought tears to reply with a straight face and clear voice. “I don’t know if there will be a Buchanan Brewery.”
“Dottie said not to worry,” Adalia had said, waving that off. “She thinks fate has a way of working things out.”
Maybe so, but who was to say fate was on her side? She was beginning to doubt she had any luck at all.
“Is River around?” Ned asked, his gaze darting around the packed tasting room. “I’d love to offer him my congratulations on landing at Buchanan. You know, we always thought he’d inherit the place.”
And didn’t that just twist the knife.
Addy gave him a sweet smile. “River’s currently detained, but I’m sure he’ll be here any moment.”
“Georgie,” Dottie called out as she pushed her way through the crowd toward her. “One of the TV crews is here.”
“Great,” Georgie said. “Tell them to make themselves at home and get whatever footage they need.”
Dottie’s face turned serious. “They want to interview you first.” Then she added in a lowered voice, “And River.”
Another twist of the knife. River had said he’d be at the party, but no one had seen or heard from him all day. What if he’d decided he might as well leave Asheville now since he’d have to start over eventually anyway?
Dottie squeezed her arm. “He’ll show up, dear.”
Georgie pushed her way through the crowd, pleased at the turnout, despite everything. It seemed like most of Asheville had shown up. She’d put out a lot of press releases and had personally invited news channels, entertainment websites, and magazines to be a part of Bury the Brewery, and quite a few had shown up. River had purposely held back the last of the reserve beer to make sure they were prepared for the party, but now she wasn’t sure how far it would stretch. Not only was the tasting room full, but there was a long line weaving outside the building.
Turned out everyone in Asheville wanted to be a part of the end of Beau Buchanan’s era. Everyone except for River.
Not that she blamed him.
The interview went off without a hitch, and if she looked less than miserable on camera, it was only thanks to Adalia, who’d applied cold compresses to her eyes to help take down the swelling from crying all day. A couple of days ago, River had gently suggested she wear something other than a business suit, which would mark her as an outsider, and she was grateful she’d taken his recommendation to heart. The light blue sundress she’d worn made her feel like less of a sore thumb. Her hair was loose and full of waves thanks to the French braids Adalia had put in it the night before. She’d be lying if she didn’t admit that she’d dressed with River in mind, but as they counted down the last pulls, anticipating the last of the tap, he still hadn’t arrived.
Which meant he wouldn’t.
Dottie was behind the main bar, and when she held up a glass, announcing that it was the last of the keg, her voice broke as she said, “And that’s the end of an era.”
The room hushed and a lump filled Georgie’s throat, the first all day that wasn’t directly River-related.
“To Beau,” someone called out, holding up a glass, and the chorus went round the room. “To Beau.”
Georgie felt closer to Beau this evening than she ever had. So many people had come over to tell the Buchanan sisters stories about their grandfather. Many of those stories had featured Dottie, and several had also involved River. Those were the ones she cherished most, but they also tugged at her heart, reminding her of the pain she’d caused him, leading her to a conclusion her father would consider ridiculous. Infantile. Female.
Buchanan Brewery belonged to River more than it belonged to Georgie and her siblings, and she was going to find a way to give it all to him, no strings attached. Consequences be damned.
To hell with what her family thought. Georgie was done with trying to make everyone else happy. She should have defaulted the brewery to River as soon as she found out he was supposed to have originally inherited it. It would have been the right thing to do.
It was too late to change what she’d done, but it wasn’t too late to make things right.
Of course, the brewery legally belonged to her siblings too, but she was sure none of them would want to step forward to run it. If she forfeited her share, they’d likely default too since there would be no one to manage the business. Yeah, Jack claimed he wanted to be a part of it, but he still refused to come back, he couldn’t manage it remotely, and she couldn’t imagine him willingly sharing the leadership with River after everything that had gone down. If he forced the issue, Georgie
could insist he pay her back the hundreds of thousands of dollars she’d invested within thirty days. It was an asshole move, but River deserved it more than Jack. She’d find another way to form a bond with her half-brother. If he ever forgave her.
As for the money? It was just money. She’d put this down as a lesson well learned.
After the last drink was served, the energy in the room seemed to evaporate, as if they really were burying the brewery. The atmosphere turned melancholy, and the remaining guests soon left, hugging Dottie and the other staff, wishing Georgie and Adalia well with the reopening come fall. And soon it was just the sisters and the staff…and no River.
A couple of the tasting workers came out of a back room, passing around the last of the reserve in small Dixie cups—Beau Brown, which River and Georgie had thought would be fitting. The plan had been for Georgie to address the staff, thanking them for their support and hard work, for embracing the future with her, but she couldn’t do it, because it was a lie.
She would have no part in Buchanan Brewery’s future, and that broke her more than she’d expected. Turned out she’d fallen in love with her grandfather’s legacy too.
Dottie seemed to sense that Georgie was too distraught to follow through as planned, so she took charge, which felt more fitting anyway.
“Beau would have loved this evening,” Dottie said with a bright smile but with tears in her eyes. “He would have loved the energy. He would have loved the stories.” A chuckle ran through the room. “He would have loved the community.” Dottie turned and held Georgie’s gaze. “And he would have loved the sense of family. He always said the employees at Buchanan Brewery were family, and Georgie Buchanan is keeping that same philosophy alive and well. She’s embracing Buchanan’s past and bringing it into the future, all while keeping the employees in the fold with her generosity and enthusiasm. Buchanan Brewery needs Georgie Buchanan, and she will lead us into the future.” She lifted her Dixie cup into the air. “To Georgie.”
The employees enthusiastically shouted, “To Georgie!”
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