Page 48 of The Distiller's Darling

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He was leaving. He was leaving? Naomi watched Iain stomp out of the room, her stomach sinking. She hadn’t thought about what she was doing when he’d said he was outside, only that she wanted nothing more than his strength as a buffer between herself and her family. And now, somehow, her mother had managed to ruin that, too. She drew in a deep breath. She only had a week left before Iain went back to Ireland, and she’d already wasted two days fighting with her family about this ridiculous intervention. So she hadn’t come to their stupid events! They’d never come to her gallery openings. Maybe it was about time.

She stood up, trying not to let her eyes keep drifting to the door. He hadn’t seemed like he was planning to come back. “Mom, why on earth would you possibly think it’s okay for you to insert yourself into my life like this?”

Her mother frowned. “I’m not inserting myself.”

Naomi leaned forward. “You have no right to talk to Iain about his whiskey.” The words sounded ridiculous even as she said them, and all three of her family members raised their eyebrows.

“May I remind you that I’m the one who signed the contract for his whiskey to be at the Founders’ Ball?” Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “I have every right to speak to him, both as a vendor and apparently as a friend of the family—not that you cared to mention it to us.”

“There was nothing to mention,” she said through gritted teeth. This was exactly what she’d been hoping to avoid. It was her own stupid fault for bringing him into the house when they were here.

Her brother snorted. “Please. Coming out of a different hotel the morning after the Founders’ Ball is one thing. Him showing up in your living room months later is entirely different.”

“I’m doing his logo design,” she said. It sounded weak, even to her own ears.

“Yeah? How long did that take you? And was that before or after you were in bed with him?”

Naomi had never actually understood the phrase ’seeing red’ until now. An actual haze of rage filmed her eyes as she stared at Jacob. “I think you should leave.”

“Is he the reason you haven’t been returning my calls?” Her mother’s lips thinned. “I can’t say I approve entirely without knowing more about his family, Naomi. Of course I want you to be happy. But I still don’t understand why you wouldn’t have sent him to Luis.”

“Because I don’t want to be like you!” she shouted.

Utter silence fell in the room. Her father and brother exchanged glances, but Naomi had let the floodgates open and now she couldn’t stop.

“I don’t want to just let all of my dreams die and do absolutely nothing worthwhile unless it’s in pursuit of some man’s ambitions,” she snarled at her mother. “You might be happy living some sort of zombie Stepford Wife life, but it is not. for. me. I’ve told you over and over again, and all you care about is marrying me off to one of your friends’ sons! I’m sorry, but fuck that! I have a life, and I have a career, and I am never giving it up just so I can change my goddamn last name.”

Her mother stared at her. “Is that what you think I did? Is that what you honestly think my life is?” Her expression, as usual, was unreadable, but the fine lines between her brows had deepened with strain.

Naomi threw her hands up helplessly. “I can’t see how it could be anything else, Mom.”

“Then I suppose we’re done here.” Her mother rose and left without another word, the front door closing gently behind her.

More silence. Naomi listened to the sound of a car starting in her driveway, then heard the wheels thump onto the street. The sound of the motor faded as she stared at her father and brother.

It was Jacob who finally broke the silence. “That was too far, Nay.”

Her anger stirred again. “Says you. Maybe you should go home to your own wife, see what she might have wanted to do with her life.”

His lips thinned, and he stood up off of her couch. “I’ll be in the car when you’re ready, Dad.” Another exit, this time with a much louder slam of the door.

Her father sighed. “Naomi—”

“Is it your turn now?” she asked bitterly. “Go for it, Dad. Tell me what an awful person I am for wanting my own life.”

He was quiet for a few moments. “You can have your own life and still have other people in it, Naomi. You don’t have to be all alone to be successful.”

She felt her anger fading into discomfort. “I know that.”

“This whiskey man—”

“Iain.”

“Iain. You didn’t use your connections to help him because you thought it would make you weak?”

She sighed. “Not exactly.” Talking about her sex life with her dad was exactly as uncomfortable as she’d always assumed it would be, even though she’d waited until her thirties to do it. “We were just friends. I don’t really do commitment, you may have noticed.”

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