Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The late afternoon sun slanted through the windows of Northern Lights Brewery.
The steady hum of conversation and clink of glasses had become familiar music over the past few weeks.
Madison was laughing at something Chloe had said, when the front door opened.
The change in energy was immediate. She looked up, and every muscle in her body went rigid.
Her father, Harrison Mitchell, stood just inside the doorway.
He hadn’t changed. His impeccably tailored suit likely cost more than most people in town made in a month, and his expensive watch caught the light.
His confidence bordered on entitlement. The only difference was he’d let silver threads invade his dark hair.
And of course, a new woman, half his age and perfectly styled, stood next to him and smiled like she was already bored.
Madison’s stomach dropped so fast she felt it in her knees.
She walked up to him. “Dad,” she heard herself say, though she hadn’t made the conscious decision to speak.
“Madison,” her father said, spreading his arms as though this were a pleasant surprise instead of an ambush. “There you are.”
There you are? Like she’d been misplaced. Like she belonged somewhere he’d left her.
She made no move to hug him. “I didn’t know you were coming,” she said, keeping her voice even.
“No,” he said smoothly, lowering his arms without a trace of awkwardness. “I imagine you didn’t.”
Of course not.
His gaze slowly swept the brewery. “Well,” he added, “this is . . . quaint.”
Madison bit the inside of her cheek so she wouldn’t say something she’d regret.
Beside him, the woman shifted. “It’s charming,” she corrected lightly.
Madison ignored her. “Dad, what are you doing here?”
“Can’t a father come visit his daughter?”
“Not necessarily,” Madison said before she could stop herself.
A flicker crossed his face—gone just as quickly. “Well,” he said, smoothing his cuff. “Straight to the point. I see the Navy didn’t beat that out of you.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
He studied her now, taking her in as if making a calculation. “You look . . . different.”
“Good different or disappointingly different?”
“Unexpected.”
Same game. Same rules.
“Madison,” he said, lowering his voice slightly, “we should talk.”
“We’re talking.”
“Not here.” His gaze flicked around again. “Somewhere more appropriate.”
“No,” she said. “If you have something to say, you can say it here.” He didn’t get to arrive unannounced and demand she drop everything to accommodate him.
“You always did have a tendency to make things harder than they need to be.”
“And you always did show up when it suited you.”
His smile thinned.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“I’m offering you an opportunity.”
There it was.
“I’m stepping back,” he continued. “The company needs leadership. Strong leadership.” His eyes locked on hers. “I want you to come back as the CEO. Take your place where you belong.”
The words hit like a punch.
Where you belong.
“You mean the place you told me I didn’t deserve?” she asked quietly.
“Circumstances change.”
“No. People just pretend they do.”
“I didn’t come here to debate the past,” he said. “I’m offering you a second chance. Something real. Something that actually matters.”
“Everything I’ve done matters.”
“It’s a distraction. A phase. And I’m willing to overlook it.”
“And if I say no?”
“Then you’re making a very shortsighted decision. I won’t keep extending opportunities indefinitely. I came here in person out of respect, Madison. Don’t make me regret that.”
Respect.
“You didn’t come here out of respect,” she said. “You came here because you think I’ll fall in line if you show up and demand it.”
“I came here because despite everything, you’re still my daughter.”
She clenched her fists by her side. “Then start acting like a father.”
His expression cooled. “I am. I’m offering you a future. Stability. Leadership. Not”—he gestured around the brewery again—“this. And certainly not whatever influence convinced Mason to walk away from everything I built.”
“Mason made his own decision.”
“A reckless one. Encouraged by the wrong people.”
“Hey.” Garrett’s voice cut in—low, controlled.
Madison turned slightly as he stepped up beside her, close enough that the heat of him grounded her.
Harrison’s gaze shifted, and recognition clicked. “Garrett Reid,” he said. “Of course.”
“Mr. Mitchell,” Garrett replied, politely, but barely.
“I should have guessed you’d be nearby.”
“Funny,” Garrett said. “Since I own the place.”
“I was just speaking with my daughter,” Harrison said, “about correcting a mistake.”
“Didn’t sound like much of a conversation.”
“It’s a family matter.”
“Then you might want to try talking to her like she’s family,” Garrett said.
“I don’t need a lecture from the man who helped derail my son’s career.”
“Mason didn’t need help. It was his call.”
“A call he’ll regret. And one you were happy to benefit from.”
“Yeah,” Garrett said. “We’ve both benefited greatly from our decision.”
“A true friend would have encouraged him to stay where he belonged,” Harrison said.
“A true friend lets someone decide that for themselves.”
Silence stretched tight.
“This,” Harrison said, gesturing between them, “is exactly what I’m talking about. Short-term thinking. Emotional decisions. You’re both settling.”
“Careful,” Garrett said.
Harrison ignored him. “You have an opportunity to step into something bigger, Madison,” he continued. “And instead, you’re choosing this small-town distraction, this—”
“That’s enough.” Garrett stepped forward. “If you can’t speak to your daughter with basic respect,” he said, voice steady and unyielding, “then you don’t get to speak to her at all.”
Silence descended on the room.
“You think you have any authority here?” Harrison asked.
“Here?” Garrett said. “Yeah. I do. You don’t get to walk into our place, talk down to her, and stay.”
Our place? Though she liked the sound of our, she wasn’t part of the brewery. Not officially. But somewhere between the setup, inside jokes with the staff, and days spent serving and mingling with customers, Northern Lights had started feeling dangerously close to home.
“I don’t take orders from you,” Harrison said.
Garrett folded his arms across his chest, broad shoulders squared as he held Harrison’s gaze without flinching.
Harrison turned back to Madison. “Is this really what you want? To tie yourself to the same mistake your brother made?”
“Yes.” Madison lifted her chin. “How dare you call Garrett a mistake. He and Mason built something from nothing. They took a risk and created a thriving business people actually care about. They brew award-winning beer and employ people in this town. They’ve built a place that matters to this community.
” Her voice sharpened. “You see a small-town brewery. I see people who love what they do and treat each other like family.”
Harrison’s expression hardened almost imperceptibly. “Fine,” he said. “When you’re ready to think beyond this . . . phase, you know where to find me.”
He turned, the woman at his side following quickly, her heels clicking against the floor.
The door shut behind them, and the tension in the room subsided. Sound rushed back in.
Madison stood there unmoving, as if her body hadn’t caught up to the fact that he was gone. Beside her, Garrett shifted closer.
“You okay?” he asked.
The question cracked something open. Madison let out a breath, her shoulders loosening—then she leaned heavily into Garrett, and his arm slid around her.
“Yeah,” she said automatically. Then, quieter, “I don’t know.”
She stared at the floor for a second before looking up. “You didn’t have to do that.”
His brow rose slightly. “Yeah,” he said. “I did.”
“He’s . . . a lot.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
She glanced at him. His jaw was still tight.
“You didn’t deserve that,” he added.
“I’m used to it,” she said softly.
“Doesn’t make it okay.”
Something shifted in her chest. She let out a slow breath. “Thank you.”
Garrett nodded once. “Always.”
She looked around the brewery. The patrons were suddenly very interested in their drinks, and conversations began again, though more than one person threw her a sympathetic glance.
The laughter picked back up, and when Chloe glanced over with quiet concern, Madison realized this life had somehow become hers.