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"Just that." He hesitates. "Call me after the meeting? Let me know how it went?"

I should say no. Should maintain the boundaries we agreed on. But he’s asking me instead of dictating orders and for some reason that’s what makes me say, "Okay."

"Okay," he echoes, sounding relieved. "And Pink?"

"Yeah?"

"Trust your gut. It's gotten you this far."

He hangs up before I can respond. I stare at the phone before I set it down and unwrap the protein bar. It's actually good, and there’s not a hint of cardboard.

It’s not until I’m halfway done that I realize I never asked Kasen why he was calling in the first place. Guess it wasn’t that important.

By the time I'm finished, the protein bar’s working its magic, and the dizziness has faded enough for me to return to the meeting. I fix my ponytail, straighten my blazer, take a deep breath, and march back to that conference room, ready for war.

Miller and Kieran are bent over a tablet, but both look up when I enter.

"Everything okay?" Miller asks. He’s wearing his politician's smile again, so I put on one of my own.

"Perfect." I reclaim my seat at the head of the table. "Look, Nolan. I appreciate the offer, Truly. But Cascade exists to support independent breweries, not to help corporations disguise mass production as craft."

His smile doesn't falter, but his eyes go cold. "That's a narrow view of what Pacific Northwest does."

"Maybe. But it's my view, and it's why I can't accept your offer." I slide the folder back across the table. "Cascade isn’t for sale."

Miller studies me for a long moment, then nods as if he expected this. "For now," he says, tucking the folder into his briefcase. "But the market is changing, Wren. Small independents are struggling. When the craft bubble bursts—andit will—having allies with deep pockets will be the difference between survival and collapse."

"I'll take my chances," I say, feeling my resolve cement even with his vague threat. This is the right decision. "Kieran will show you out."

They leave, and I slump back in my chair. Exhausted doesn’t even begin to cover how I’m feeling. The meeting took more out of me than I expected. As much as I want to pretend it isn’t, this pregnancy’s really kicking my ass. This kid is sapping all my energy so it can grow, but I can’t be mad about it. In fact, it makes me smile just a little.

Kieran comes back a few minutes later, closing the door behind him. "That was ballsy," he says, settling into the chair Miller just vacated. "Turning down twenty million without even taking time to consider it."

"I didn't need time." I run a hand over my face. "It was never going to be a yes."

"Because of the baby?" he asks. "Or because of Kasen?"

"Because of Cascade." I sit up straighter. "This is mine. I built it. I'm not handing it over to someone who'll use it to destroy the very industry I've worked to support."

Kieran nods, his expression thoughtful. "For what it's worth, I think you made the right call. But you should probably go home. You look like shit."

"I'm fine," I say automatically, even as another wave of fatigue crashes over me.

"No, you're pregnant and stubborn as hell." He stands, holding out his hand for my laptop. "I'll handle the Orson call. Go rest or I’ll call Kasen."

I know I should argue, should insist on staying, but the thought of the cloud of a bed in Kasen’s guestroom is too good to pass up.

"Fine, snitch," I relent, handing over my laptop. "But call me if anything comes up with Orson. They're still waffling on the summer seasonal commitment."

"Will do, boss." Kieran gives me a little salute. "Want me to call you a car?"

"I can drive," I insist, though even as I say it, my eyelids might as well weigh a thousand pounds.

"Sure you can." He's already on his phone, ignoring me. "Car will be here in five. I'll walk you down."

The ride home passes in a blur.Not home, I remind myself. Kasen's house. I'm half-asleep by the time the driver pulls into the driveway of the Craftsman bungalow that feels more like coming home than my apartment ever did.

Inside, the house is quiet and empty. Kasen's still at the brewery, dealing with the fallout from whatever disaster called him away this morning. I kick off my heels in the entryway, padding in stockinged feet to the kitchen where I pour myself a glass of water.