Page 26 of Bourbon and Secrets

Griz glances at me. “And by the look on his face, it seems like you’re tipping worlds and taking names, just like she did.”

Chapter 9

Faye

The dynamicbetween my sister and the Foxx men is curious and unexpected at best. Troubling, if I focused too hard on it. They aren’t the kind of family that you just fall into. They’re Kentucky royalty. Businessmen who have a stronghold on one of the most lucrative markets in the US. They should only be acquaintances, connected by the fact that we’re from the same town and are neighbors to Lincoln Foxx. They attended my mother’s memorial, but so did most of the town. I barely remember the people I spoke to that day.

As I watch Griz turn over Maggie’s arms, examining her bruises with tenderness, I have to wonder:why does he care?He squeezes her hand while he whispers something that forces her eyes to the ground, looking apologetic. It isn’t just familiar; it feels familial. And we were never part of their family when I was around.

“Faye,” Griz calls out to me, looking up. “I want you and Maggie to come to dinner tonight. I need to hear what you’ve been doing with yourself all these years.”

“Griz, that’s really nice of you, but I have plans tonight.”

His mustache twitches, maybe his version of a smile. “Alright. Sometime soon, then?” he says with a wink.

Lincoln cuts in, “Faye was just telling me how she’ll be leaving soon.”

I clear my throat, refraining from rolling my eyes. “Must have misunderstood me, Foxx. My residency at Midnight Proof is at least until the end of January.” I punctuate it with a sarcastic smile. “I’ll be here for a little while.”

Griz glances behind me at Lincoln and then at Maggie. The tension here is thick, for layers of reasons that I can’t figure out how to unpack. “I’m guessing you’re not here to do a tasting?”

Lincoln shakes his head, asking, “Is Ace in his office?”

“The lounge,” Griz tells him, tipping his head toward the door. I haven’t kept tabs about what has been happening, but if I dug a little, I’d find that even if Griz isn’t in the day-to-day business of Foxx Bourbon, he still knows everything that goes on around here. The old man squeezes Lincoln’s shoulder. “Make sure you bring a good bottle for dinner later, yeah?”

Lincoln gives him a nod and a clap back on the shoulder, as Maggie walks off toward the building.

“Faye, this isn’t a group meeting. I’ll make sure Ace comes to find you when we’re done,” Lincoln says as he steps up next to me. I don’t look at him or acknowledge the statement. I’m uninterested in what he or his brotherneed. What I am interested in is why Ace Foxx is employing my sisterandrubbing elbows with a man like Blackstone.

“Faye has a hard time accepting when she’s not wanted somewhere,” Maggie says over her shoulder, and then takes the stairs two at a time, putting plenty of space between us.

Her words burn. She doesn’t want me here and neither does Lincoln, but I’m not here to make either of them feel more comfortable. I’m here to do a job and whether she likes it for not, to make sure she’s going to be okay when I leave again.

I push through the group of people coming down the main staircase of the tasting room, and it would be impossible not to appreciate the opulence of this place as I look around. From the wrought-iron light fixtures that resemble the Foxx Bourbon logo to the smell of bourbon that wafts throughout the massive space. When I reach the top floor, the office area is empty. It gives me a second to look around and get my bearings.

“What part of ‘this isn’t a group meeting,’ didn’t you understand?”

For as long as his legs are, I’m still a good ten feet ahead of Lincoln as I ignore him and look around the private floor. The walls are embossed with a collage of photographs that lay out the story of Foxx Bourbon. Four generations of Foxx men who turned backyard moonshine into one of the most sought-after bourbon brands in the world.

“Ignoring me won’t get you what you want,” he says in a resigned tone behind me.

Coming to a stop at the end of the hall, I look to my right at the empty corner office. Lincoln stands in front of me with an annoying smirk on his face.

“There are plenty of ways to get what I want, Foxx,” I step closer to him, biting my lip. “Should we consider all the ways men can be easily manipulated? Or would you prefer I demonstrate?” I run my fingers along my collarbone, thrusting out my chest just enough to garner his attention.

“Does this work for you?” he asks, unimpressed.

I look down at his crotch first, and then back up to his face with a hinting smile. “You tell me. Feeling a little intrigued about—” I cut off my words when I look at the large black-iron ‘F’intertwined with the outline of a fox hanging in the center of the wall, seeming like an odd placement.

“I said it’s a closed meeting,” he says again.

But I move around him and tilt the logo up. The wall slides open.Jackpot. Just as I walk through, I hear Maggie say, “You asked me to find more buyers. So that’s what I did. There were no parameters to that request, Ace.”

Lincoln is at my back as I waltz into the room, interrupting their discussion as I try my best not to seem too impressed by the clandestine grandeur of this hidden space. I hate that this surprises me. It shouldn't. The Foxx family is known for their impeccable taste and the richness in what they deliver. That’s felt throughout the entire expanse of property and simply elevated in here. The dark walls, a quad of leather chairs, and a couch hug the farthest wall. There’s some kind of carnival machine in the far corner across from a poker table, and behind that, a fireplace that’s as tall as it is wide.

Ace stands eerily still, waiting for someone to say something about what exactly it is that I’m doing here. Anyone who lives in or has passed through Fiasco knows Atticus Foxx isn’t someone you cross, let alone threaten. He’s the oldest brother and the one in charge, but they are each commanding and intimidating in their own ways.

“Faye Calloway,” he says calmly as he glances at his brother. “It’s been a while.”

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