Page 16 of The Bourbon Bride

I round the back of the long car and climb into the driver’s side after I tuck my Louis Vuitton weekender in the space behind the seat.

“Pretty cool?” I mimic.

I start the engine with a roar that threatens to bring the roof crashing down on us with the reverberations from the exhaust.

“That V12, twin turbo engine soundcoolto you?”

“Okay, it’s scary cool.” She looks over at me and rolls her eyes. “I’ve never seen this around town. I’m surprised you managed to stay under the radar driving this death-mobile around.”

“Death-mobile?”

“You’re like Batman, but with a sleeker, more villainous ride that promises death. Definitely a death-mobile.”

I nod in acceptance. “I’ve heard worse.”

She turns in her seat to face me. “Like what?”

I carefully exit the garage and turn toward the airport. “Oh, you know, dream killer, life ruiner, business ender. Lots of stuff that relates to death, so I guess I need a death-mobile to complete the package.”

“Why would anyone say that about you?”

Oh, sweet summer child,I think. She has no clue.

“Let’s just say I’m the one who has to deliver the swift death blow to all those failing businesses Olympus gobbles up. I’m not loved as much as my brothers, who get to play with the functional portions we keep and make prosper.”

“You’re still a part of the most successful holding company in the South. Heck, the East Coast. You have to do what’s best for the business overall, even if it means shuttering parts that are no longer producing or congruent with the vision the company takes on.”

“Try one of the top five corporations inthe world, sweet girl.”

She grabs my arm that is resting on the center console. “How? I read Forbes. I stay up to date with the business world. How is this news to me?”

“We have many names and faces. You’ve likely heard of the more public portions of the corporation, but Olympus is privately held and we’re quiet about our dealings. There is plenty we can do under any other part of the business that may never link back to Olympus as a whole.”

“Privately held and that secretive. Are you in the mafia?”

Surprised laughter bursts out of me, shaking my whole body as I try to compose myself. It takes a moment,

“Hell no. The mafia is chump change. We’re about legitimate business, but willing to get as underhanded as we have to be when necessary to get what we want. Legally, of course.”

“That sounds like the mob. I won’t, like, go to the police or anything if you are. Your secret is safe with me.” She squeezes my arm where her hand still rests. I like it there.

“We’re not the mob, but I appreciate your vow of secrecy. That’s touching, actually. You’d keep my secrets literally the day after meeting me. Have I even earned that loyalty?” I muse aloud. I certainly haven’t earned her trust, yet she’s placed a lot in me, just by being in this car now.

“You’re aiding and abetting a Fairchild fugitive from the parental law, so yeah, you’ve earned it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though. Mama’s wrath is legendary, like, freeze the earth bad when upset, so this could blow up in your face as well as mine.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”High risk, high reward.

I pull onto the tarmac in the private section of the airport, the gate sliding open without me having to stop, and head to my hangar where the jet is waiting. I park the Maybach in the hangar and nod at the armed guard dressed as a mechanic who lives on-site to babysit my toys. You don’t just leave a multimillion-dollar car unsupervised.

“Of course, a plane,” she says under her breath as she gets out of the car. “I thought we were driving to Atlanta and was planning to spend four hours in the car. I guess it’s smarter to fly when you have private jet money,” she says, louder.

“Work smarter, not harder. I actually want to get some sleep tonight before work tomorrow, so a four-hour drive isn’t ideal.”

I follow her up the stairs to the jet and get her settled in a leather chair before I hand over my bag to a flight attendant and take the seat across from her.

“You’ll need some things. How long do you want to run away?” I ask. I’m already mentally creating a list of items she may need that I will text to my assistant as soon as I know her sizes.

“As long as necessary to drive home the message that I amnotmarrying Garrison Daniels, no matter how badly they want the business perks that union would bring. So at least a week, I would assume. Maybe longer if Mama puts her foot down and cuts off my trust. Oh, God.“ She stops abruptly and cringes. “Um, also, I’m probably going to be poor soon, so I may need a temporary loan for some necessities until I can smooth things over with Mama. I’ll pay you back, with interest.”

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