Chapter 21
Clara
I had no idea that Beck was going to invest in Rowan's project whether our family was on board or not. I thought the point was to convince the family that the best location was to renovate an existing building on the Hart property. I was surprised that he hadn't told me that in advance.
Rowan probably wouldn't be able to do it on his own. He needed Beck. But I wasn't sure how I felt about Beck tying himself to Rowan like that.
It felt like a betrayal, even though I had no say in how Beck ran his business. I guess I thought that we'd grown closer over the last few weeks and he would have confided in me.
I intended to talk to Beck about it as soon as I could get him alone. After their presentation, Rowan and Beck left to give us some time to talk about what he'd said.
Malcolm reappeared in the kitchen when they left, standing at the head of the table. "You know I don't like the beer bath idea. We've worked too hard on our reputation, and we want to be respected in the community."
"You don't think we'll be respected anymore if Rowan opens the beer bath part of the business?" Callum asked.
Malcolm braced his hands on the end of the table. "You have to admit it's a ridiculous idea."
I frowned. "It's a legitimate business idea, and I think it's cool. I believe Beck when he says it's necessary to make Rowan's brewery stand apart from everyone else's."
Malcolm narrowed his eyes on me. "You've never had a say in the business. Why do you get one now?"
Irritation flowed through me. "Whose fault was that, Malcolm? I wanted to work here after I graduated, and you said there was no place for me. Then Gran died, and it was expected that I take over her shop."
Malcolm stood straight and raised his voice. "It's what made sense at the time. No one wanted to see her store closed."
I stood to match his intensity. I wouldn't let him make me feel small. "So my feelings didn't matter? I wanted to work on the property, building something with my family. But since no one could handle Gran's shop closing, I had to be the one to step in and take over, whether I wanted to or not."
Mom's forehead wrinkled. "I thought you wanted to run Gran's shop."
"No one ever asked me. It was just expected." I felt my voice rising. I never confronted my family about anything. I'd lost my voice a long time ago.
"Why are you bringing this up now?" Dad asked.
My shoulders lowered. "I'm not happy running Gran's shop or living in her house."
The table fell silent.
Finally, Hunter asked, "What do you want to do?"
I threw my hands up in the air. "I don't know what I want to do.
But maybe I could hire a manager to run it for me so I could figure it out.
" Before they could protest that development, I continued, "And I'm going through Gran's things.
I'll set anything valuable aside, and you can decide if you want to keep it.
Everything in the garage will be donated. "
"I thought you wanted to keep the house as is so we could remember her?" Mom asked incredulously.
"That was what you wanted, and I abided by your wishes. But I feel like I'm living in someone else's house. I want to make it mine." I softened my voice. "You can take anything you want, but Gran gave the house to me. She trusted me to take care of it how I wanted."
Dad touched Mom's hand. "It's her house now."
Mom's eyes filled with unshed tears, and I hated that I hurt her.
It would take time for her to get used to the idea.
But I was already doing it. I wasn't backing out now.
"I'm sorry to bring all of this up now, but I don't think it's fair for Malcolm to be the only one who gets a say in the business anymore.
The corporate documents clearly state that we all have an equal vote. "
Callum folded his hand on the table. "It's your house to do with as you'd like. But if you're not happy running Gran's business, then maybe we need to reevaluate what to do about it."
"I'll let you know what I decide."
"Now, what should we do about Rowan's brewery?" Callum asked, looking around the room.
Malcolm stood stiff and unmoving at one end of the table, not saying anything.
Callum had effectively taken over the meeting.
"It's an amazing opportunity for me to build everything that's going inside. It will be an advertisement for my business. I can get word-of-mouth referrals. I think we should do it here on Hart property," Boone said.
Callum nodded. "And it will solidify the brewery as one more family-run Hart business."
Hunter ran his hand through his hair. "I love the idea of reusing that building and telling our story in some way. Maybe we could get a reporter to do a story on us."
"That's a great idea," Callum said.
"I still think we should be conservative. Start with the brewery, then add the tubs later if it's successful," Malcolm said.
Hunter shook his head. "You heard Beck. He doesn't think we'll get enough traffic without doing something different. The beer bath is just different enough to gain attention."
Malcolm started to pace. "Since when does everyone get a say in what's going on around here? It's too many opinions. We won't be able to make a decision."
Callum gave him a look. "This is a family business, remember?"
"We're all part owners. So we should have a say," I said, remembering what Beck had said about the incorporation papers.
"Beck said we should give you time to consider this—" Callum began.
"I've already thought about it. I'm not going to change my mind. We've never done anything like this before. Beck is used to working with bigger businesses that have a lot more capital. I shouldn't have brought him in on this."
Dad leaned forward. "Beck wants to invest in the business, but it's going to be built in Rowan's vision. Another investor might want to make their mark on it. And Beck seems to know what he's doing. You wouldn't have brought him in otherwise."
Malcolm slowed his pace. "He's good at what he does, but I'm not comfortable with the level of risk that he's willing to take."
"If we want to grow, we have to take risks. Keeping things the same means we stay small. Is that what we want?" I asked everyone.
"This could be huge for Rowan and me," Boone said.
"It'll be big for all of us. Remember, this is a family business we're building. We all benefit from an expansion." Then I addressed Malcolm. "Think of McCoy. This is his legacy. He'll take over the business one day if he wants to."
Malcolm paused, his hands on his hips. "I am thinking of McCoy.
That's why we have to be careful. Beck doesn't know what it means to want to protect someone.
He doesn't have anyone to worry about. He's estranged from his family, and he won't commit to anyone.
Heck, he's planning to leave here in a few days.
How much will he even be involved? What if he makes this decision, and then we're on our own? "
His words struck me in the breastbone, making it hard to breathe. He had a good point. Beck wasn't someone who could make a commitment. He was upfront about that. He was leaving in a few days. How much would he be involved?
"You can ask him about that," Hunter said reasonably. "He consults all the time. I'm sure he can do that virtually or over the phone."
Malcolm gripped the back of his neck. "It won't be the same."
"I know this is scary for you to relinquish control. But Rowan and Boone will handle the construction. You can focus on the restaurant. It's not reasonable for you to be responsible for every business on the property," Mom said.
That wasn't necessarily the best tactic to take. Malcolm needed control. Probably had something to do with becoming a single father.
"I have to think about this," Malcolm walked out, and we heard him murmuring to McCoy in the other room.
"He'll come around," Mom said, but I wasn't so sure.
"What happens if he doesn't? Is this still a majority-rule kind of situation? Or should it be unanimous?" I asked everyone.
Callum folded his hands in front of him on the table. "It would be nice if everyone agreed, but Malcolm might never come around. And he doesn't have to be involved. Rowan can take lead, and he has an investor."
"It's important that Rowan be able to fulfill his dream.
For so long, it's been about the inn and then the restaurant.
Malcolm followed his dream. Now you guys should be able to as well.
And if one of you wants to do something differently, just tell us.
I never knew you wanted to be involved with the inn," Dad said to me.
"It's okay, Dad. To be fair, I'm not exactly sure what I want." Beyond Beck staying in my life. I had a feeling I'd figure it out with him at my side, supporting me. But I also needed to stand on my own two feet.
We talked about other things, but I couldn't help but think about what I'd say to Beck when I saw him again.
He'd be gone in a few days. If I didn't talk to him now, I wouldn't get the chance.
When I left my parents' house, I texted Beck that I was on my way over. I felt unsettled, irritated, and amped up to talk to him about what had happened in my family's dining room.
I was proud of Rowan and him for presenting a good business proposal. But I wished he'd shared it with me first.
What Malcolm had said got to me. Beck wasn't a commitment guy. I was kidding myself by going along with whatever this was.
I knocked on the door when I arrived, and Beck opened it. His expression was pensive. "How was it after I left?"
"The same," I said as I stepped inside. "Malcolm is still upset. He thinks it's too risky."
"What do you think your family will do?"
"They seem on board with the idea with the exception of Malcolm. I'm not sure he's going to come around." I noticed there were suitcases at the bottom of the stairs. "What's this?"
His expression was grim. "My work here is done, and it's time to move on."
"Why is that again?" I asked as my voice rose.
His expression was stiff. "I told you I was planning to leave before Christmas."
I tipped my head slightly to examine him. "Because you're used to being alone on holidays?"
His face pinched. "It has nothing to do with family."
"So you're just running away?" From me. From what we'd shared. Then there was the business. Was he walking away from Rowan too?
He scoffed. "I was upfront with everyone from the beginning. I was always planning to leave before Christmas.”
"Oh, I heard you," I said as my brain frantically tried to keep up with this situation. I hadn't expected him to be packing today. I thought I'd have a few more days. "How will you work with Rowan if you're not here?"
"I can consult over the phone or video chat. There's no need to be here in person anymore." His tone was clipped.
My stomach sank. "It sounds like your mind is made up."
"It was always going to end this way." His voice was flat.
His words were like bullets landing in my chest, each one sharper than the last. "Right.
Okay. Well, I'm going to go then." I knew this was going to happen, but I let myself fall for him anyway.
And clearly, he wasn't feeling the same way.
He had a lot of practice at keeping himself separate from others.
"You don't have to leave tonight. I'm not planning to fly out until tomorrow."
"I don't think that's a good idea. Good luck with everything." I continued to back away, and then I turned, needing to escape before the tears started to fall. I wouldn't let him see how much his callousness hurt me.
He had been clear from the beginning, but that didn't mean that I didn't have feelings. That I didn't want him to stay here with me.
"Clara—"
"Don't." Then I opened the door and walked out into the cold. The wind had picked up, and the gusts were whipping at my face, blowing my hair. It was the perfect dose of reality. This wasn't a dream anymore. Reality was here.
I was walking away from the one person who not only made me feel alive but made me believe in love again.
I stumbled over the step on the porch. I was in love with the guy who couldn't commit. It figured that's what would happen after my long-term relationship fizzled out from sheer boredom.
I was just unlucky in love. Or stupid. I wasn't sure which. I certainly wasn't destined to find my happily-ever-after.
It would always elude me.
I got in my car, refusing to look in the direction of Beck's house. I didn't need to see the pitying expression on his face. The one where he felt good about not feeling anything while I fell apart inside.
I backed my car out of his driveway, knowing this was the last time I'd ever see this cabin. The only consolation was that he'd never be happy if he kept himself apart from everyone, including his friends and family.
He'd never allow himself to fall in love. It wasn't personal to me, but I couldn't seem to convince myself of that fact. It hurt.
When I pulled onto the road, the first tear fell. I drove as the snowflakes fell, and my tears followed.
The pain was visceral, like a knife ripping out my insides. I felt raw and vulnerable, as if the slightest shift in the wind would send me to my knees. I couldn't wait to be inside my house.
It was just shocking to go to Beck's house and see the evidence of his departure, the suitcases lined up. He hadn't wasted a second getting things ready. He obviously wasn't having second thoughts, and I wasn't enough to keep him here.
I knew he was the one who had a problem, but it was hard to remember that when all I could feel was the sting of his rejection. He didn't love me enough to stay. He probably didn't love me at all.
Did he even know what love was? I should feel sorry for him. But right now, all I could feel was pain.
Inside, I took a deep breath, swiped away the tears, and went into the garage. I packed everything in the boxes I'd picked up the other day. It felt good to clear something out. I stacked the boxes neatly by the door, making a mental note to find a company that would pick them up.
I didn't stop until the boxes were packed and my back ached. I had plenty of time to make this house mine now. There weren't any distractions.
I'd refocus on my plans to make my life mine. No more excuses. No more getting lost in a broody man who appeared out of nowhere and somehow stole my heart.
I was done chasing other people. It was time to take care of my life. No more complaining about being stuck. I was the creator of my own life. It was time to take charge of it and stop letting people tell me how to live.
At some point, the pain in my chest would lessen, and I'd forget about the guy who changed everything.