Page 43 of The Bourbon Bet
“The idea has merit,” I sigh. “But organizing a proper auction would take months, not weeks. I’d need to contact dozens of authors, coordinate shipments, market the event, set up an online bidding platform, and all this while trying to find a new building. I couldn’t ask authors to donate to save a store I can’t save.Heck, I couldn’t even tell them when and where the new bookstore would be.” My voice trails off as hopelessness sets in.
Paige’s enthusiasm doesn’t waver. “You could start small! Just the authors you’ve already connected with.”
“I’ve thought about that,” I admit. “But what if I put all that work in and still don’t raise enough? Or worse, what if I can’t pull it off before the deadline? These authors have been so generous already, and if I promise an auction to help save my store and then fail anyway.” I shake my head. “I’d never be able to face them if I open in a new location someday. Those bridges would be burned.”
I run my fingers across the other signed book. “And the timing is impossible. Derby weekend is a little over a month away. ” The weight of it all presses down on me. “There just isn’t enough time.”
Paige sets the book on the counter and hugs me so tight that the breath whooshes from me. “You’ll figure out something.” She holds me tight until her phone sings Rihanna’s “Birthday Cake.” Reading the message, she punches the air. “Yes! Groomzilla finally picked a cake flavor. Two, actually.”
“Oh? What did they choose?”
“A champagne and strawberry cake and chocolate bourbon cupcakes with salted caramel buttercream.” As Paige rhapsodizes the virtues of buttercream, my mind wanders to the night Sebastian and I shared dessert at the restaurant. The rich flavor of chocolate cake on my tongue, the warmth of his smile across thetable, the easy laughter that had flowed between us. The truffle he’d snuck into my bag. A pang of longing pierces my chest. If only things could always be that simple, that sweet.
“Earth to Rose.” Paige snaps her fingers, cutting through the haze of my thoughts.
“Sorry, what did you say?’ I ask.
“Nothing important, just that I should have started with the bourbon cake. This is Kentucky.”
I nod. “Although I’m tempted to get married just to taste the champagne cake.”
She laughs, returning to her seat. “How about I make you one? Way less hassle. Oh, speaking of commitment. How’s it going with Mr. Bourbon?”
“Good, I guess. On our last date we had a small argument.” I tell her how my flattering tactic with Sebastian had backfired, and that he knows about my leasing troubles.
“And he never mentioned a word during your other dates? That’s suspicious.”
A now familiar sour tang of dread and confusion settles in my stomach. I’m not sure what to make of Sebastian’s silence about my store troubles. “His apology was sincere, and it’s easy to forget he’s a Blackstone when he’s sweet and thoughtful,” I tell her. “Wait here.”
I walk to the storage room and return with his present. “He also stopped by and dropped off this.” I set the electronic bike bell between us.
My thumb runs over its sleek surface. It’s such a small thing, but the thoughtfulness behind it makes my heart stumble over itself.
Paige hits the bell’s button and a train horn bellows from it. We, along with every customer, jump. She hunches her shoulders and apologizes to the startled group.
“Well, that’ll definitely keep you safe,” she says with a grin.
Safe. If only my heart felt the same way around him. This is getting complicated. I need to focus on what Thorne asked me to do, not get distracted by how much I like Sebastian. But damn, he makes it hard to keep my guard up.
“He said it was to help keep me safe on my bike,” I say, unable to hide the soft smile that comes unbidden.
Paige tilts her head. “Huh, that is sweet.”
“Yeah, and the more I think about the date, the more my gut tells me Thorne is playing us,” I confess. Despite feeling foolish for sharing my suspicions, I trust Paige not to dismiss them without at least listening.
“How?”
“The only reason I mentioned the store issue to Sebastian was on Thorne’s prompting. And something is off about him.”
“Who? Sebastian or Thorne?”
“Thorne. He’s a walking contradiction. He acts like he’s concerned for Blackstone Bourbon and how Sebastian runs it, but there's this hunger to take down his brother that radiates off him like overpowering cologne. But then in the same breath, he’s hitting on me, like his real goal might be to mess with Sebastian.”
Paige frowns. “He hit on you?”
“Yeah, he offered,” I make finger quotes. “To work out a different deal.”
“Pig,” Paige sneers.
