Page 9 of Bourbon and Proof

Griz interrupts my reminiscing with a pat on my leg. “You practically raised yourself, Hadley Jean, but the little part I played in that, I never once told you it’s okay to not go after what you want in this life. It’s too damn short to sit here and watch.”

As he stands out of the car, I hear Lincoln shout, “Griz, did you white knuckle it the whole way over?”

Grant’s next. “You’re lucky there’s not a patrol ticketing this early.”

I flip him off, just as my phone buzzes again.

“I drive like the goddesses intended,” I shout back to them both.

“How’s that, Hadley? Like there are no rules?” Linc laughs.

I smile, pulling on my galoshes. “Fast, flawlessly, and instilling fear in overly confident men.” I look out to the center of the river. “You too scared to hitch a ride this morning, Ace?”

He doesn’t answer. His wide stance and strong arms move effortlessly, casting the way Griz taught all of us years ago.

I inhale the morning smells and brush off being ignored. “River’s high today,” I say to Griz.

He adjusts his hat, crossing his arms and looking out at the view. The side we’re on is much calmer than the other. But today, they both look high and ready for a good showing.

“You know the routine.” He nods toward where Ace is standing. “If it gets too rough, or you lose your footing, find the center—the limestone plates that cut the river are shallow enough to keep you from moving to that far side and under. Find the center.”

As I get into my flow of fly-fishing, laughing along with the boys, my phone buzzes, instantly sobering me all over again.

UNKNOWN

Miss Finch, my patience is wearing thin. I expect payment and penance. Do not push me.

It’s a new number, but with a similar tone of threat. And there isn’t a single thing I want to do about it. If people my father had worked with are looking for payouts, I’m not going to be the one to do it. Everything he was involved in makes me sick to my stomach.

Over the past year, I’ve been dodging one problem after the next. There were side-eyes and snarky comments, simply for being my father’s daughter. There’ve been plenty of threatening messages, property damage, letters, and social media canceling that came with it. Today isn’t going to be the day to deal with the barrage of bullshit. Swallowing my nerves, I pocket my phone.

When I look up, Ace is watching me. The tendons in his neck flex and his jawline tightens, like he’s pissed that I caught him looking. I give him a taunting smile and wiggle my fingers at him.

This weekend, my best friend in the entire world is marrying the love of his life, and despite the texts, and nudging of marriage, or the brooding oldest Foxx brother, I’m ready to celebrate.

Chapter 3

Ace

If you wantto determine the strength of a bourbon, most people look at its proof. The higher the proof, the higher the alcohol in that batch. It doesn’t make it better; it just makes it stronger. But when it comes to business, especially in Fiasco, after the bullshit this town has had to deal with over the past year, stronger is better.

“Roughly nine billion dollars,” I interrupt. I’ve had enough of the discussion. The last thing I wanted was to have this meeting this weekend, but time hasn’t been on my side lately.

It’s been just over a year since the headlines. A nightmare for a state whose reputation was tarnished by greed and strong-arming. It was almost catastrophic for the small town at the epicenter of it all. The head of the largest and most respected brand in horse racing, Finch & King, was charged with things from fixing races and illegal drug distribution and administration to animal endangerment, animal cruelty, grand larceny, and there’s still an ongoing investigation into the deathsof a trainer and jockey. Wheeler Finch ran the business in Fiasco, which meant it hit us the hardest. The scandal has affected small businesses because of affiliation, media scrutiny, and public embarrassment. Mid-sized businesses impacted because of wrongfully invested funds and plain old theft. Kentucky horse racing as a whole took it the hardest—it shook all parts and we’re still feeling the vibrating aftershocks. Cleaning it up meant there would need to be a lot of players, but each one has a purpose.

The governor and Fiasco’s mayor both came out unscathed by all the chaos, which has made me more than curious as to how that’s fucking possible. But as they look at me with surprise, realizing I saidbillion, I know I have their rapt attention. “That’s right around $340 million in taxes that the great state of Kentucky benefitted from the bourbon industry last year alone. Perhaps it’s worth considering my suggestions.”

“While that’s very true, Ace, you’re forgetting that the horse industry has the same kind of impact. And this past year has been nothing short of threatening to all of it,” the governor says as he looks over my shoulder for a waitress. He won’t find one. In fact, he’s already managed to piss off Marla by calling her “ma’am” when we first walked in here. I wouldn’t be surprised if she spit in his meatloaf.

He’s a piss-poor excuse for a civil servant, but plenty of people get off on his rhetoric and appreciate that he goes to church every Sunday. Somehow genuflecting to an altar and talking about “the good ol’ days” is enough to earn him more clout than the man deserves. It helps that he was born and raised in Kentucky—he’s liberal enough and old school enough that most couldn’t tell you which party he favors, only that he’s been governor for coming up on twenty years. His family owns a pharmacy in the next county, his brother’s the fire chief, which is rather convenient, and somehow, people likehim. But his backbone is as sturdy as the licorice my sister-in-law is always gnawing on. And I don’t trust him. I exhale my frustration, because their lack of planning and problem solving are impacting small businesses in my town. Eventually, it’ll impact my business—and my family.

“Ace,” Marla says, coming up with a pot of coffee in one hand and a glass of bourbon in the other. “You wanted the chocolate soufflés for dessert. They’ll take about twenty to set. Should I start that for you now?”

I smile at the way she only keeps eye contact with me. It’s the reason I suggested an early dinner here instead of something private elsewhere. There’s a cocktail party in place of a rehearsal dinner tonight for Linc and Faye, and there isn’t a chance in hell I’m going to miss any part of it. But this meeting is necessary while the governor’s in town. He needs the reminder that there are still a helluva lot of good things happening here, despite the media circus that’s been so heavily focused on the horse racing scandal. I also need Foxx Bourbon to remain in his favor, and keeping him fed, happy, and feeling like my investments and proposals for growth are positively impacting him will do just that. Griz has always been clear exactly who should stay on a short list of “friends.” The governor is right at the top of it.

“Might I trouble you for a coffee with the dessert?” he asks Marla.

But instead of answering him, she gives me a tight-lipped smile.Ah, fuck, she’s winding up for an insult. It’s a 50/50 shot when bringing out-of-towners to Hooch’s if it’ll show off the charm of Fiasco or, in this case, a pissed-off southern woman who gives less than zero shits about ruffling feathers. His brother might be the fire chief, but the governor isn’t a local.

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