Page 1 of The Distiller's Darling

1

“Well, that just happened.” Naomi Klein sipped her champagne as she watched her date practically vault across the dance floor in pursuit of another woman. She smiled fondly.

Noah Bradstone was one of her best friends, and she had reason to know he was damned good in bed, but he was going to have to be a hell of a lot more than a nice dick in a tailored suit if he wanted to land Angelica Travis. The former actress was building a hotel next door to Noah’s vineyard, and he’d fallen head over heels for her the second she yelled at him. A man with mommy issues, Naomi reflected with a grin.

“I’m not sure I believe what I just heard,” came a female voice from next to her.

Speak of the devil.

Naomi turned to find Noah’s mother, Bernice Winchester Bradstone. Bernice was also Naomi’s mother’s best friend; sleeping with Noah had always felt the tiniest bit incestuous—not that he’d noticed or cared. The man’s ability to ignore the things other people stressed about was something Naomi found equally exasperating and endearing. It was one reason she hadn’t put an end to their extracurriculars years before.

She’d been perfectly happy with their now-and-then friends-with-benefits situation, but she’d long suspected Noah needed more. Just not from her. Much as he pretended to be a footloose and fancy-free commitment-phobe, Noah wanted long-term … whether he knew it or not. He was chasing picket fences, and Naomi sincerely hoped Angelica would be the one to give them to him.

She, however, wanted nothing to do with any of that. Just thinking about being with one person for the rest of her life—or even the rest of the year—gave her hives.

“Not what you expected?” she asked Bernice.

The older woman pursed her lips, colored to perfection with Chanel’s quintessential red. “Not at all.”

“Disappointed?”

“Not exactly. It’s always a surprise when your children find happiness in a way you don’t expect. When you’re the one who raised them, you think you know them.” Her expression turned thoughtful. “But you want them to be happy, however they get there.” She smiled, and patted Naomi’s shoulder fondly. “You’ll know what I mean someday.”

Not likely.

Naomi kept a smile pasted on her face and nodded vaguely. She had no interest in children whatsoever, and it wasn’t because she just hadn’t met The One, as her mother frequently asserted.

“I see my parents,” she told Bernice, effectively cutting that line of conversation off at the pass. “Talk to you soon.” She exchanged the customary cheek kiss and made her way across the room to find her parents, her brother, and his wife standing in a cluster near the finger food.

The Doctors Klein made an imposing pair. Her father was the head of cardiology at San Francisco General, and her brother looked like a younger, slightly more muscular clone. Both had thick, dark hair that lay in gentle waves tamed by expensive cuts, and each had a beautiful woman on his arm.

“Hey, Nay,” her brother said. “Single again?”

She resisted the urge to flip him the bird. The only deviation Jacob had ever made from The Klein Plan was to marry Tanya Deuterhorn instead of the Nice Jewish Girl their parents had picked out for him, and since Tanya had immediately converted and was currently making raising their three children look easy and keeping the books part-time for Jacob’s celebrity-studded plastic surgery practice, he’d been swiftly forgiven.

Naomi, on the other hand, had been deviating from The Plan since she was five years old, when she’d demanded to go to art camp instead of ballet class.

“I was already single,” she answered.

“Please, don’t remind me.” Her mother raised the back of her wrist to her forehead in a sign of mock distress. “What happened over there?”

Judith Klein was the perfect doctor’s wife and the ultimate socialite. She and Bernice ran their inner circle with gilded fists, and the Founders’ Ball was their cornerstone event. Naomi was well aware that the prodigal daughter’s date fleeing her side was not a good look for the family. While Naomi didn’t particularly care about the impression she gave, Noah didn’t deserve her mother’s censure.

“I think Noah’s in love,” she said with a grin.

“He ought to be in love with you,” her mother answered stiffly. Their two mothers had been planning their wedding since Naomi and Noah had gotten stuck in an elevator together at her bat mitzvah.

“Please,” Jacob said with a mock shudder. “Noah’s a great guy, but there’s literally nobody I want less as a brother-in-law.”

“That’s just because you don’t like wine,” his wife said. “That Prodigy Pinot he made a few years ago was incredible.” Tanya was a fan of Stonewell Vineyards, Noah’s winery, and was a loyal customer, something that made Naomi love her almost as much as the fact that she never tried to set her up on blind dates.

“Give me hard liquor anytime,” Jacob said, raising the small, tulip-shaped glass in his hand to catch the light. “Have you tried this one, Dad?”

Their father nodded. “It’s straight from Ireland. Your mother heard about it from one of her cronies.” He gave his wife a fond smile to take the sting out of his words. “The only thing I ask in return for my presence at these things is good whiskey.”

Naomi resisted the urge to snort. As though he wouldn’t have been here anyway. He was gunning hard for the Chief of Staff position at the hospital, and every single member of the Board of Directors attended the Founders’ Ball. There was a very good reason her mother co-chaired the gala committee. The Klein Plan, in full effect.

“I wouldn’t mind buying some of it,” Jacob said idly, swirling his glass again and lifting it to his nose.

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