be hard and impenetrable to enemies. Not a softhearted do-gooder.
Which brought to mind his softhearted do-gooder and how much he missed her. Where the fuck was Hatcher?
“Drink that lager,” Patrick ordered. “I hate seeing good beer go to waste.”
Though Jack took orders from no one—not even a genius brewmaster—he shoved aside his impatience and sipped the beer. “Damn, that’s excellent.”
“I know.”
The door swung open and Jack’s body tensed. Sure enough, Hatcher walked in. He came alone, without lawyers or associates. Jack hoped that didn’t signal bad news.
Hatcher’s gaze searched the interior until it landed on Patrick and Jack in the rear of the large room. They rose to shake Hatcher’s hand. “Glad you could come down,” Jack said.
“Hello, Mulligan. Patrick.”
Once they were all settled, Jack motioned for Cooper to bring over another beer. The glass was placed in front of Hatcher. “That’s not necessary,” the financier said. “I’m not staying long.”
Jack tried to tamp down his mounting disappointment. “Then I suppose we best get right to it. Have you made a decision?”
“I have.” Hatcher eyed the copper kettles, the workers moving around to taste and take measurements. “You’re busy. Busier than the last time I visited.”
“We’ve expanded,” Patrick said. “We’re producing nearly one hundred barrels a week.”
Hatcher whistled. “Impressive. I hope that doesn’t prevent you from doing a hell of a lot more.”
Patrick reacted first. “Does that mean . . . ?”
“It means I have decided to sink a lot of money into this idea. Let’s take this beer national.”
Jack clapped his hands once, elation soaring in his veins. “Christ, that is good news.”
“Indeed, it is.” Patrick reached out to pump Hatcher’s hand. “Thank you, Mr. Hatcher. You won’t regret this.”
“I hope not,” Hatcher said. “I have my reservations about this little trio, but you aren’t the problem, Patrick.”
“You’re welcome to sell me your shares,” Jack said. “And I’ll find another investor who isn’t so squeamish.”
Hatcher stared at Jack, his expression unreadable. “I want my own accountants on this, Mulligan, at every step of the way. I want this completely separate from everything else you’re involved in. Nothing crosses over. Do we understand each other?”
“Of course. This isn’t something my crew will be involved with. Only us.”
“It had better stay that way.” Hatcher stood from the table. “I’ve looked into the Great Lakes Northern. It’s ripe for a takeover. I can get it tomorrow, if we wish.”
“Soon,” Jack said, also rising. “Did you like the train car design?”
“I do. I couldn’t find any flaws, and neither could the four engineers I consulted. We should get the cars into production.”
“I’m ready. Just say the word.”
“Send the contract out to two or three steel companies and have them send me proposals. I’ll get it underway.”
“Excellent.” Patrick rubbed his hands together. “So this is really happening? Little Water Street Brewery all over the country?”
Hatcher slapped Patrick on the back. “This is really happening. Prepare yourself. If this goes well, there may be big changes coming for you and your family.”
“Indeed,” Jack agreed. “Soon, maybe your brother won’t be the only famous one in the family.”
“Walk me to the door, will you, Mulligan?” Hatcher said.
Jack nodded and matched Hatcher’s pace toward the glass windows at the front of the brewery. “This is where you remind me you meant what you said earlier.”
Hatcher paused and thrust his hands in his trouser pockets. “It is. I do not want anyone losing money because you run this like a gambling syndicate and not a legit business.”
“Everything will be aboveboard. You have my word.”
“I don’t come from a world where a man’s word is law. This isn’t going to be a handshake deal. No, you’re going to sign legal papers that clearly state the penalties if you don’t abide by our agreement. And fair warning, they will be stiff.”
“I’ll sign anything you want, Hatcher. I’m prepared to do this right.”
“I am relieved to hear it. Patrick may trust you but I do not. And I’ve seen too many businesses fail because of misplaced trust. I won’t allow this to be one of those casualties.”
If Jack didn’t want this deal so damn bad, he’d tell Hatcher to fuck off. This lecture, treating Jack as a rube or an outright thief, was beginning to grate on his nerves. “I am just as invested in this as you are, perhaps more so. And I’ll work my fingers to the bone to see it succeed—”
Glass erupted, a sudden crash splitting the air. Something hit his side, what felt like a pebble or