Page 40 of The Bourbon Bet
I nod. “Though she didn’t have much of a choice.”
“Sebastian.” He doesn’t say more until I’m looking right at him, then finishes, “She didn’t have any choice.”
Annoyance flares in my chest. “She’d agreed to Thorne’s deal. And you showing up here claiming to be my friend definitely helped my brother. She probably assumes I’m in on it.”
“You are.”
“Because I was forced to be,” I say between clenched teeth.
“Just like her.”
Fuck. I want to argue, but can’t. He’s right. She’s not manipulative, she’s desperate. And I’m the asshole who put her in this position. I grip my glass tighter. “Thorne backed her into a corner, and I... I let him use her as a pawn in our game.”
Daniel nods. “You should have told her about your brother’s extortion.”
“If I’d done that, he would’ve followed through. This seemed easier.”
“Is it?”
“Not at all.” I like her too much, and that complicates everything. I stare into my bourbon, the amber liquid catching what little light filters through the windows.
Daniel shifts forward in his chair, the leather creaking. “Hey, what’s this ‘claiming to be your friend?’ I am your friend. Or we used to be friends. Until Thorne decided to fuck with your head and you shut everyone out.”
“People I care about have a funny way of either turning on me or using me.” I meet his gaze directly. “And now that you work for Blackstone, we need clear boundaries. You’re my attorney, not my confidant.”
“Spoken like a true Blackstone.” He taps the leather folder again. “This is the contract for his bet. I figured you’d want a physical copy.”
“I do. Thanks.” I take it and hold up the file. “You did read the part about him leaving Kentucky when I win?”
“Ifyou win.”
A soft patter of raindrops against the library windows grows louder. I look outside. My dark mood matches the landscape. “I’ll win. There’s no other option. Thorne can’t lead Blackstone. He doesn’t care about crafting bourbon or our employees, only profit.”
“But you care about people?”
I stiffen, my blood pressure rising. “Are you saying I don’t treat my employees well?”
“Oh, no, you do. I’m referring to Rosalia. You’re using her as a pawn in your rivalry with your brother.”
“I’m in this bet for her,” I nearly shout.
“Don’t pretend to be a martyr. You also did it because you want Thorne gone.”
That’s the other shitty thing about letting people get close to me. They know when I’m full of shit. Yes, protecting Rosalia is important to me, but I can’t lie. The day my brother walks away for good will be the first day I wake up without yesterday’s anger
I admit none of this, and instead dig into my false self-righteousness. “Rosalia made a deal with Thorne to play me.”
“So?” Daniel shrugs.
I want to punch him. “What the fuck do you mean, ‘so’?”
“Unless I’m mistaken, none of this was her idea. Thorne pulled Rosalia into this game. And she has the most to lose.” His calm and composed tone grates on my nerves.
“She can move to another location. There are other great spots besides Whiskey Row,” I growl.
The words feel like betrayal even as I say them. Part of me understands that she’s fighting for her business, and starting at a new place isn’t ideal. Hell, if someone threatened Blackstone Bourbon, I would do whatever it took to crush them. But understanding doesn’t quiet the old familiar whisper: what if this is who she really is?
“How do you do it?”
