скачать книгу бесплатно
Max wore his curly hair longer than Blake’s. And where Blake’s skin was the color of terra-cotta tiles, his brother’s skin was a deeper russet brown. Max was a little taller than his brother, with a leaner frame.
“I look forward to working with you, Savannah.” Max sat beside her and shook her hand, his grip firm and warm. His smile seemed genuine. “I’m excited to hear more of your ideas for the anniversary celebration.”
“That’s why I invited her to join us. She can relay them much better than I can.”
Two more men walked into the room. “Didn’t realize we were having guests,” the younger of the two said, his voice gruff.
“My brother Parker.” Zora rolled her eyes. “Chief financial officer and resident cheapskate.”
Parker was not amused, but the older man—whom Zora introduced as their father, Duke—chuckled and gave Savannah a warm greeting.
Parker offered a cursory greeting, then shifted his narrowed gaze to Blake.
“I thought we were going to discuss the proposal honestly.” Parker sat at one end of the table. Duke sat at the other.
“We will.” The intensity of Blake’s tone matched his brother’s. He nodded toward Savannah. “No one is asking you to pull any punches. She might as well get accustomed to how we do business around here. Besides, she can best respond to your questions about the kind of return on investment we should expect.”
“Welcome, then.” Parker tapped something on his phone. “I’ve been described as...no-nonsense. Don’t take it personally.”
“I won’t, if you promise not to take my tendency to shoot straight personally, either.” Savannah met his gaze.
Parker nodded his agreement and the other siblings exchanged amused glances.
“You found someone Parker can’t intimidate.” Zora grinned. “Good job, Blake.”
The Abbotts continued to tease each other while Zora or Blake filled her in on the inside jokes. Savannah smiled politely, laughing when they did. But an uneasiness crawled up her spine.
The Abbotts weren’t what she’d expected.
Her grandfather had portrayed them as wild grizzly bears. Vicious and capable of devouring their own young.
Don’t be fooled by their charm.
“Ready to make your presentation?” Blake asked.
Parker drummed his fingers on the table and glanced at his watch.
Don’t show fear.
“Absolutely.” Savannah stood, clutching her portfolio.
Blake’s warm smile immediately eased the tightness in her chest. Her lungs expanded and she took a deep breath.
Savannah opened her portfolio and glanced around the room.
“All right, here’s what I’m proposing...”
* * *
Blake typed notes into his phone as Savannah recapped her presentation. She’d won over everyone in the room. They were all on board with her plan—even penny-pinching Parker.
The event had graduated from the “little shindig” his mother had envisioned to a full gala. One that would retain a rustic charm that paid homage to the company’s history. Savannah had also suggested holding anniversary events in other key cities.
The upgrades Savannah proposed to the old barn on his parents’ property to prepare for the gala would significantly increase its rental income. They could charge more per event and would draw business from corporations and folks in nearby towns. All of which made Parker exceedingly happy.
“There’s one thing I’m still not sold on,” he interjected. “The majority of our market share is here in the South. Why invest in events elsewhere?”
“It’s the perfect opportunity to deepen our reach outside of our comfort zone,” Savannah said.
Parker folded his arms, unconvinced.
“She’s right.” Blake set his phone on the table and leveled his gaze on his brother. “I’ve floated the idea with a few distributors in the UK, California and New York. They love our products and they’re eager to introduce them to more of their customers. I’m telling you, Parker, this could be a big win for us.”
Savannah gave him a quick, grateful smile. A knot formed low in his gut.
“Savannah and Blake have done their homework,” his father said. “I’m ready to move forward with Savannah’s proposal. Any objections?”
Parker shook his head, but scowled.
“Excellent. Savannah, would you mind typing up your notes and sending them to the executive email list so my wife can get a look at them?”
“I’ll do my best to get them out by the end of the day, Mr. Abbott.”
“Duke will do just fine. Now, I’m late for a date with a five iron.”
“The gala is going to be sensational.” Zora grinned. “Right, Max?”
“It will be,” Max agreed. “I wasn’t sure that turning Mom’s low-key, local event into something more elaborate and—”
“Expensive,” Parker interrupted.
“Relax, El Cheapo.” Zora’s stony expression was a silent reminder that she wasn’t just their baby sister. She was sales VP and an equal member of the executive team. “The additional sales will far exceed the additional expenses.”
“Don’t worry, lil’ sis. I’m in.” Parker tapped his pen on the table. “I’m obviously outnumbered. I’m as thrilled as you are to expand our market and rake in more cash. I just hope Savannah’s projections are on target.”
“I look forward to surprising you with the results.” Savannah seemed unfazed by Parker’s subtle intimidation.
“C’mon, Savannah.” Max stood. “I’ll show you to your office. It isn’t far from mine.”
Blake swallowed back his disappointment as she left with Max, Zora and their father. So much for his plan to give Savannah a tour of the place.
“Watch yourself,” Parker warned.
“What do you mean?” Blake stuffed his phone in his pocket and headed for the door.
“You know exactly what I mean. You’ve been stealing glances at Savannah when you think no one is looking. Like just now.” Parker followed him.
“You’re exaggerating.”
“No, I’m your brother.” Parker fell in step beside him. “I know the signs.”
“Of what?” Blake turned to face his brother. “A man very impressed with his new hire?”
“It’s worse than I thought.” Parker shook his head. “Look all you want, just don’t touch. She’s our employee. A subordinate. Don’t cross the line with her. And for God’s sake, don’t get caught up in your feelings for this woman.”
“Good advice.” Blake resumed the walk to his office. “Too bad you haven’t been good at following it.”
“That’s why I know what a horrible idea it is.”
“Don’t worry, Parker. I won’t do anything you wouldn’t.” Blake went into his office and shut the door.
He didn’t need Parker to remind him that Savannah Carlisle was off-limits.
Four (#u2ef9d15f-5968-58a5-b903-af5c982d5c44)
Savannah surveyed the gleaming copper stills and the pipes running between them that filled the distillation room. “They’re beautiful.”
She was home. Exactly where she was meant to be, had it not been for Joseph Abbott’s treachery.
“I guess they are.” Daisy checked her watch again.
Blake’s assistant was a nice enough woman, but her limited knowledge wasn’t helpful to Savannah’s cause. If she was going to take on the powerful Abbott family and prove they’d stolen her grandfather’s bourbon recipe and his process for making it, she needed to learn everything there was to know about the making of their signature bourbon.
Daisy gave the stills a cursory glance. “I never really thought of them as beautiful.”
“I do. I just didn’t think anyone else did,” a familiar, velvety voice chimed in.
Blake again.
The man seemed to pop up everywhere. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be a daily occurrence.
“Didn’t mean to scare you, Dais.” Blake held up a hand. “Just met with Klaus—our master distiller,” he added for Savannah’s benefit. “I’m surprised you’re still here. Doesn’t Daphne’s softball game start in an hour?”
“It does.” Daisy turned to Savannah. “Daphne’s my ten-year-old daughter. She’s pitching as a starter for the first time.”
“I’m sorry.” No wonder Daisy had tried to rush her through the tour. “I didn’t realize you had somewhere to be.”
“Get out of here before you’re late.” Blake nodded toward the exit. “Tell Daph I’m rooting for her.”
“What about the tour? We’re nowhere near finished. Savannah has so many questions. I haven’t done a very good job of answering them.”
“You were great, Daisy,” Savannah lied, not wanting to make her feel bad. “Your daughter’s pitching debut is more important. We can finish the tour another day.”
“Go.” Blake pointed toward the exit. “I’ll finish up here. In fact, I’ll give Savannah the deluxe tour.”
Daisy thanked them and hurried off.
“So you want to know all about the whiskey-making process.” Blake turned to Savannah. He hadn’t advanced a step, yet the space between them contracted.
“I mentioned that in my interview.” She met his gaze, acutely aware of their height difference and the broadness of his shoulders.
His fresh, woodsy scent made her want to plant her palms on his well-defined chest and press her nose to the vein visible on his neck.
“Thought that was just a clever bit to impress me.” The edge of his generous mouth pulled into a lopsided grin that made her heart beat faster.
“Now, you know that isn’t true.” Savannah held his gaze despite the violent fluttering in her belly.
She was reacting like a hormonal high-school girl with a crush on the captain of the football team.
Blake was pleasant enough on the surface, and certainly nice to look at. Okay, that was the understatement of the year. His chiseled features and well-maintained body were the stuff dreams were made of.
But he wasn’t just any pretty face and hard physique. He was an Abbott.
E-N-E-M-Y.
Her interest in this man—regardless of how good-looking he was or the sinful visions his mouth conjured—needed to stay purely professional. The only thing she wanted from Blake Abbott was insight into the history between their grandfathers.
“So you promised me the deluxe tour.”
“I did.” His appraising stare caused a contraction of muscles she hadn’t employed in far longer than she cared to admit. “Let’s go back to the beginning.”
“Are you sure?” Savannah scrambled to keep up with his long, smooth strides. “I’ve nearly caused one family crisis already. I don’t intend to start another today. So if you have a wife or kids who are expecting you—”
“That your not-so-subtle way of asking if I’m married?” He quickly pressed his lips into a harsh line. “I mean... I’m not. None of my siblings are. Our mother is sure she’s failed us somehow because we haven’t produced any grandchildren.”
“Why aren’t you married? Not you specifically,” Savannah added quickly, her cheeks hot.
“We’re all married to this place. Committed to building the empire my granddad envisioned nearly half a century ago.”
Blake held the door open and they stepped into the late-afternoon sunlight. Gravel crunched beneath their feet, forcing her to tread carefully in her tall spike heels.
They walked past the grain silos and onto a trail that led away from the warehouse. The property extended as far as she could see, a picturesque natural landscape that belonged on a postcard.
“Someone in town mentioned that you have another brother who isn’t in the business.”
“Cole runs the largest construction company in the area. With the explosion of high-end real estate around here, he’s got the least time on his hands.”
“Doesn’t bode well for those grandchildren your mother wants.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Blake agreed. “But she’s convinced that if one of us finally takes the plunge, the rest will fall like dominoes.”
“So then love is kind of like the plague?”
Blake’s deep belly laugh made her grin so hard her cheeks ached.
“I can’t disagree with that.” He was smiling, but there was sadness in his eyes. There was a story there he wasn’t willing to tell, but she suddenly wanted to hear.
The gravel gave way to a dirt path that was soft and squishy due to the recent rain. Her heels sank into the mud. “I thought we were going to start at the beginning of the tour.”
