Page 1 of Stout Bear

Chapter

One

Morning sunlight streamedthrough the windows of Fate Mountain Brewery as grizzly shifter Max Bock walked into the taproom. High ceilings with wooden beams arched overhead, and the brewery’s famous mahogany bar dominated the south wall. Behind the bar, copper taps were labeled with the brewery’s signature beers.

The front door opened, and his parents walked through. Quinn led the way with her confident stride. Drew followed; his shoulders were almost as broad as the door. “Morning, son,” Drew said, clapping Max on the back.

His siblings arrived in quick succession. Gwen bustled in, clutching a thick portfolio, her bright blue blazer standing out against the rustic interior. Liv slipped in behind her, a leather messenger bag slung across her body. Noah entered last, tablet in hand.

“Everyone grab a seat,” Max said, gesturing toward the chairs.

They arranged themselves around the table. Drew and Quinn took positions at one end, while the siblings spread out alongthe sides. Max remained standing; hands pressed against the smooth wood as he surveyed his family.

“Thank you all for coming,” Max said. “This year’s beer festival is in just a few weeks, and I want to make sure we stay coordinated.”

Gwen reached for the water pitcher, filling glasses and passing them around. Max cleared his throat. “Noah, can you start us off with the numbers?”

Noah opened his tablet, turning the screen so Max could see. “Here’s where we stand with vendor commitments.”

Max scanned the rows of figures, noting the projected attendance and revenue estimates. He pressed his lips together when he spotted potential shortfalls. The festival needed to succeed, not just for the brewery’s financial health, but for the family legacy he now safeguarded.

“Gwen, what marketing angles are you considering?” Max asked, turning to his sister.

“We can promote the festival through targeted social media campaigns, regional radio spots, and partnerships with local businesses.” Gwen flipped open her notebook and showed it to Max.

Max nodded. “Liv, what about the visual elements?”

Liv slid several colorful mock-ups across the table. The designs featured bold typography and stylized illustrations of mountain landscapes integrated with brewing imagery. “This is the festival logo for this year,” Liv said. “These sheets show how the design will look on banners, shirts, and promotional materials.”

She glanced at each sibling in turn. “I focused on colors that stand out from a distance but still connect to our traditional branding.”

“The mountain silhouette works with our existing logo,” Gwen said with a nod.

Noah shifted his tablet toward his older brother. “With Gwen’s marketing plans and Liv’s materials, we will exceed our initial budget by fifteen percent.”

Max studied the numbers, his concern growing as he reviewed each item. The festival represented their first major event without their parents at the helm. Such a budget increase could create problems.

The meeting continued for another hour, with each sibling offering compromises and adjustments. Their parents silently nodded in approval. By the time they finished, a revised plan had taken shape. As the meeting concluded, Max walked his parents to the door.

“You handled that well,” Drew said.

Quinn nodded in agreement. “They listen to you, Max. You’re doing well.”

“I appreciate your confidence,” Max said as his parents departed. The responsibility of leadership settled on his shoulders, a familiar weight he had carried since childhood. He would not disappoint his family.

After his siblings left, he still had a few hours before the brewery opened. Max stepped out the back door and locked it behind him. Sunlight warmed his shoulders on the short walk home. Anarrow path led directly to the cozy house he now occupied, an arrangement that suited his workaholic tendencies.

There was a small yard in the front, and his porch had just enough room for two deck chairs. He kept meaning to add window boxes or a few potted herbs by the entrance, but long hours at the brewery left little time for extra projects.

Inside, the entry opened onto a modest living area with a sturdy fireplace dominating one wall. A soft couch faced a standard television over the fireplace, and a low table rested in front of it. Photographs showcasing mountain panoramas dotted the walls.

A simple kitchen occupied the next stretch of open space, sectioned off by a breakfast bar. Wooden cabinets held enough cookware for the small-batch meal prep he actually had time for. Everything felt orderly and uncluttered, designed to let him focus on work.

He dropped his keys into a wooden bowl near the door and headed for the refrigerator, his thoughts circling around the festival. The entire project weighed on his mind, but he knew success depended on careful planning and follow-through.

After twisting the cap off a bottle of water, he crossed to the couch. He settled in and turned on the TV. A sports channel played highlights from the previous night, commentary droning in the background as he studied spreadsheets on his laptop. Almost by instinct, he tabbed over to mate.com and logged in. The interface showed no new notifications or suggested matches, which left him feeling oddly disappointed.

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