Page 11 of Bourbon and Proof

The governor glances my way before he says, “Plenty of negative press here to last a lifetime. Bodies and missing persons? I’d hate to see anything other than bourbon making Kentucky someplace to talk about.”

Giving him a nod, I reiterate what I want, the whole reason I’m here tonight. “If you help clear the approvals needed, drum up excitement around some of the plans for building up Fiasco, then that would be a way to garner some good press.” I look at the mayor when I add, “There are plenty of people here wanting to look like they're making a positive difference, and then there are those of us who are actually doing it.” My phone vibrates in my pocket. There are a few people that, when they contact me, I do not, under any circumstances, keep them waiting.

THE ARCHITECT

Touching base. Had a slight change in plans that we need to discuss. Your order is quite...aggressive.

I swallow, knowing exactly how to handle the fallout for an “order” like this one. The aggressive nature had a purpose, but I anticipated this text. She prefers in-person meetings when this type ofbusinessis being discussed. But I don’t have time for that.

The mayor interrupts and asks another rhetorical question. “And you think moving the budget away from infrastructure and into things like parks and recreation is the way to do that, Foxx?” It’s like he doesn’t want this town to move forward. Either that, or he really is an idiot.

Finding my patience, I look at the governor when answering. It’s his cooperation I need and his signature on the dotted lines. “We’re moving into the spring and summer months, and we have the luxury of underwater caves and caverns. Places for people to explore, climb, dive, create memories they’ll share on social media. It’s an attraction. We just need people hired to keep those places clean, safe, and monitored. It seems like exactly the right time to move the budget into something that’ll be visible and positive to Kentucky. As far as new attractions and businesses, I have plenty of ideas we can explore.”

Bourbon is my occupation, and I run it well. But there’s more I care about beyond it. Keeping my family safe and strong is the biggest one, but there are also plenty of people who don’t have the same luxury. I’m not a hero by any stretch; I have no problem with violence if it’s necessary, but not with people who don’t deserve it. The good people of Fiasco deserve some life breathed back into them and their livelihoods after the past year.

“I like your thought process. You have any estimates of the numbers that might bring in?” The governor looks at the mayor, as if he should have these details, but he doesn't. That’s what I was doing here. Governor Hawkins wants to treat our state like a business, so he’s getting the businessman. And one of the best tactics in my line of business is warming them up, getting them comfortable, and then getting what I want. Ignoring the mayor, I give the governor a nod and tell him the only thing that’ll sway a long-standing politician with his level of attention. “There’s also quite a bit of tourism possibilities I’m considering investing more in. How about we discuss that over one of my specialty bottles.”

Thirty minutes later, the low lighting mixed with the cool air inside Midnight Proof the mood changes entirely. It’s the best spot in Fiasco, hands down. The vibes are unmatched. The drinks are well done. And there’s entertainment worthy of being a destination. Hadley knew what she was doing when she built this place. I’m not quite sure how, considering she’s always been a bit of a princess about life and hard work. But she turned an old bar and a run-down building into one of the sexiest speakeasies on the map.

“Governor,” Hadley says smoothly, a warmth in her expression that would draw anyone in. But that welcome is all for show, since nobody noticed the brief glare she gave me as I came in. “What a pleasant surprise.” Her eyes flit to mine again as she says, “Ace hadn’t mentioned exactly who he was bringing with him.”

He extends his hand across the bar. “Pleasure, as always, Hadley. My brother was just talking about you.”

I grit my teeth and flex my hand at my side, recalling watching Hawk’s hand squeezing her ass this morning. It isn’t my business that the men she flirts and sleeps with are rather pathetic choices.

She smiles, ignoring the way the governor blatantly stares at her chest. Plucking a couple of bottles from below the bar, she starts making a drink as she asks, “Are you planning to be back in town again for Derby weekend? You very much enjoyed the afterparty at Foxx Bourbon last year, if I recall.”

He had until he lost a decent amount of money to Laney. My brother’s wife cleaned the floor with him in a nice game of Texas Hold ’Em. Grant had to step in when everyone realized he wanted to raise the stakes and play for one of his horses. Laney had been a hand away from taking one home, but she folded and called it a night before he embarrassed himself much further.

Hadley, on the other hand, is unpredictable. Disturbingly beautiful, easily the smartest person in most rooms, and she carries herself with more confidence than she knows what to do with. Right now, however, I need her to chill the fuck out.

“HadleyFinch,” the mayor says, making his way toward us. I thought we had shrugged him off after dinner at Hooch’s. No such luck.

My eyes narrow on him. The spineless wonder wants to make everyone in this group aware of the social threat she poses by being a Finch, but the governor knows who she is, as he’s been to many gatherings at her father’s home over the years.Asshole.

He sips his drink out of a cocktail straw and then adds, “You’ll need to remind me which horse of yours ended up in the winner’s circle last year. Can’t recall if I’m rememberin’ correctly or if it was another one of Finch & King’s fillies.”

The backhanded question has my nostrils flaring. I want to slap the stupidity right off his face. But Hadley simply wipes her hand on the towel slung over her shoulder and smiles. She isn’t going to exchange niceties, though. Nah. She’s taking inventory. Planning all the ways she’ll make her words linger long after they’ve been said. She’s the kind of woman who will start a bar fight and watch men fall over themselves like idiots to finishit. Because she can—her charm is so damn sweet sometimes that it’ll make your teeth hurt. That’s only around the people she liked. Then there were moments, like this one, when she recognized a gauntlet being thrown and she showed up like a fucking gladiator.

Smiling at the mayor, she says, “That would be my girl, Fergie. But it's been a long time. That was years ago now.” Then she shrugs. “And yes, we’re all aware of who my father is—my last name matches his. Isn’t that right, Governor?” She pours out three shots along the bar. “Daughter to the deplorable Wheeler Finch.” Cupping her hand around her mouth, she whispers loudly, “I’m not a fan either, just share some DNA. Less intentional of a connection than some, I’d imagine.”

I swipe my hand along the back of my neck and suggest, “Gentlemen, I’m going to head up. Hadley, I’ll take the bottle I’ve requested when you have a moment.”

She looks over her shoulder and nods to one of her waitresses before looking my way. “Of course, Mr. Foxx,” she says too sweetly.

Mr. Foxx?Jesus Christ. I clear my throat and nod, knowing the kicker is coming when I see her back straightening ever-so-slightly as she glances at the mayor.

“Oh, and Mayor,” she says, holding up her finger, “the next time you walk into my bar ready to insult me, you'd be wise to remember my last name you so quickly pointed out. It may still be splashing the tabloids, but your friends”—she glances at Governor Hawkins—“have enjoyed a few cocktails in my father's home over the years. Interesting that little tidbit was left out of all those articles about the fall of Kentucky racing, don't you think?”

Neither the governor nor the mayor has the gall to respond, only nodding dumbly. And with that, she winks. “Have a nice evenin', gentlemen.” She salutes us with two fingers at her brow.Her middle finger lingers in the air a second longer, like she couldn’t help herself from flipping him off.

I wipe my hand across my mouth, trying to hide my smile, and then move up the stairs.

The private balcony room at Midnight Proof is vaulted above the main floor and looks out among the dark velvet curtains draped along the walls and the chandeliers placed in various spots throughout. It provides an excellent bird’s-eye view of the entire speakeasy for prime people watching. The warm glow around the room gives off just enough light to squint at menus and find drinks, but allows for enough shadowed space for couples to slip hands under tables or skirts. Midnight Proof is just the right mixture of a vintage-style speakeasy brushed with the modern appeal of a forward-thinking cocktail menu and nostalgically sexy entertainment.

“My brother got the better deal with that one,” the governor says as he looks out. “Pretty little thing.” His attention stays focused on Hadley. With a smirk on his face that I have the sudden urge to slap off, he adds, “Lucky bastard.”

The insinuation makes my stomach sink. I hate knowing as much as I do about Chief Hawkins and Hadley’s rather cliché situation.She’snever been tight-lipped about her sex life. I’ve narcissistically always thought it’s because she wanted me to know. And I stupidly listen too closely to her conversations with Lincoln about it. I study the governor as he watches her. It pisses me off that he’s even looking. I need to pivot his focus. “Still pulling the same funding for your upcoming campaign?” I ask, taking a sip of my bourbon. It’s a loaded question.

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