Page 47 of The Distiller's Darling

“Yeah. A friend of a friend hooked me up. He thought it might uncover some potential customers, but no luck.” He shrugged. Iain had hoped the opportunity might lead to some big orders, but all that had resulted was in a dip in his inventory.

Judith Klein tsked at her daughter. “You didn’t introduce him to Luis?

“Luis?” he asked, turning to face Naomi.

Before she could answer, Mrs. Klein stepped forward and led Iain to the sofa on the other side of the room. He paused briefly when she sat in the spot where he’d slowly and leisurely fucked her daughter the week before. Expecting to find a smirk on Naomi’s face, he was shocked instead to see her lips flattened into a grimace and her cheeks scarlet with what looked like indignation.

Which, frankly, he didn’t understand. His presence there was her doing. Sure, he’d come over uninvited even though she’d told him to stay away, but she’d invited him inside. Without looking at him, Naomi dropped into a chair in the corner, and went back to sulking.

Judith patted the cushion next to her, and Iain obediently sat down. “Luis Montero is the most prolific restaurateur in the Bay Area. He has ten restaurants right now, and is opening several more, all very nice. You may have seen him on the Food Network. He’s been on some of their competition shows as a judge. Quite famous.” She waved a hand airily. “He’s a dear friend of the family. Naomi’s known him her entire life.” She turned to Naomi. “I’m sure he would have loved Iain’s whiskey. Your brother and father did. Why didn’t you make the introduction?”

Naomi lifted her chin in defiance. “You know how I feel about abusing personal connections for profit.”

Judith rolled her eyes. “And you know that’s just being naive. That’s how business is done.”

“Maybe in your world, but not in mine. In my world, I let the product speak for itself.”

Judith set her hand to Iain’s knee, a strange, proprietary gesture. Then again, she’d had to sign off on him peddling his wares at the Founders’ Ball, so maybe she somehow felt responsible for his success—or lack thereof. “And Iain’s whiskey speaks for itself. All you had to do was ask Luis to taste it, and he would have asked you to set up a meeting the very next day. You know he loves to have all the best stuff first. Honestly, Naomi. You’d better hope he doesn’t find out you’ve been keeping this nice man a secret. He’ll be very cross with you.”

“I was not keeping a man a secret,” Naomi hissed through gritted teeth. Even though as far as Iain could tell, that was exactly what she’d been doing.

For the next couple of minutes, Iain watched the two women lobby statements back and forth as if he wasn’t even there. And the longer they volleyed thinly-veiled insults, the clearer things became. Naomi was good friends with the biggest and most widely acclaimed restaurant owner in the Bay Area. One order from him all those months ago and the situation with Whitman’s might have been different.

If Iain had been able to secure a massive order right away instead of toiling away for three long months, he wondered if his father’s decision might have turned out differently. Instead, it looked as if he’d struggled, and perhaps that was why the company had completely lost faith in his and Maeve’s vision. And now he was on the cusp of creating an irreparable divide in his family that couldn’t be undone once he set it in motion.

And it could have all been prevented, if only Naomi had cared about him enough to make the introduction.

He rubbed his chest, feeling a hollow ache building as though his heart were collapsing in on itself. How could she? He let anger take over from the unpleasant feeling of betrayal. It was easier to be angry than to grieve what he’d lost. What he’d never really had, apparently. As far as Iain was concerned, she could take all her talk of support and understanding and shove it. She might think she didn’t trade on her connections, but he’d watched her at the Founders’ Ball well before they’d been introduced, and she’d been working the room for her art just as much as he had been for his whiskey.

She was a damn hypocrite.

And he was nothing to her. She’d made that clear the past few days. He was a fool for wanting to come to her aid in the first place. She didn’t need him; but what was most evident was she didn’t want him either.

He slapped his palms to his thighs and pushed to his feet. Looking down at Judith Klein, he forced a smile. “It was great seeing you again, but I really have to run. I have a meeting in about twenty minutes that I can’t be late for.”

Both women stood, and Mrs. Klein clasped his hand in hers. “Have Naomi give you my number. She might not want to introduce you to Luis, but I have no such rules about leveraging my connections to help a … special friend out.” He ignored the slither of discomfort her phrasing gave him in favor of a fresh spurt of anger. Maybe he’d been cozying up to the wrong Klein all along.

Naomi stepped forward. “I’ll walk you out.”

He stared at her a beat, wondering if she could see the disappointment on his face. “No, don’t bother. I know the way.”

As he walked out the door, Iain wondered if the last three months—including the time he’d spent holding the dark-haired beauty in his arms—had all just been an epic waste of time.

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