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The older woman looks up and gives her a withering glance as I try to hold in my laughter.
Georgia is certainly very opinionated when it comes to the ex-Mrs. Bassett. I think it’s sweet how protective she is over Gray. I’m already getting the idea of just how close knit they really are.
I just don’t know what skeletons may be hiding in his closet, and what this means if what his ex’s lawyer said was true about the assault charges.
The only way around it is to ask him. But that may be easier said than done.
23
Grayson
I get a few hours of work done at the distillery before my meeting with Hartley. It is a Saturday, after all, and the family rotates working weekends.
I know I’ve got to lift my weight a little, especially where Gabe is concerned. The last thing I need him doing is breathing down my neck and having an excuse to tell everyone I’m not doing shit. Gabe would just love that.
I should be at the cabin, unpacking properly, but instead I’ve left boxes in the spare room, ready to unpack later. It seemed wasteful getting a storage container since I didn’t leave with all that much. I never wanted to keep any of the furniture from the Nashville house, or anything else for that matter. It would only stir up memories of the life I left behind, and I don’t need to be looking back there.
I’ve been throwing myself into expanding our export locations for the last few months. Australia is on board, along with new locations in England and Canada. It’s an exciting time for the distillery and the new branding has come at the right time. My father has always been a little stand-offish with exports, preferring to ship locally, but exports are where the real money happens. And we’re taking this business to the next level. I know that’s the one thing Gabe and I will agree on, if nothing else.
They even cleared out an office for me, rather than share Gabe’s space, not that he’d let that happen in a million years. Apart from the drink we all had at Moose’s, the asshole still isn’t speaking to me. The one thing about my asshat of a brother is that his temper outmatches mine. Gabe can hold a grudge for years, but little does he know, I can string him along for just as long. The dude needs to chill out.
I could put him out of his misery and tell him I’ve no desire to come stomping in to take over the business he’s so diligently controlled with my father since I’ve been gone. I could also remind him I helped fund expansion and put up money when things were rocky during the pandemic, because that’s what prodigal sons do, according to my brother. They’re not allowed, however, to come back into the fold after being away to run another successful business. The day my brother apologizes is the day hell will freeze over. I get that part. But the hostility he’s shown me hasn’t gone unnoticed. This distillery is his lifeblood.
When his wife left, he threw himself into the business, as well as taking care of Trinity. It proves he is capable, and I trust him implicitly, but his attitude toward me stinks.
Now I’ve got an office right next to his, it’s sure gonna be awkward.
“Ratta-tat-tat,” Brooklyn singsongs, knocking on my open door as he leans against the frame. “Makin’ yourself at home?”
I give him a look over my shoulder. “Nice of Gabe to give me the shittiest chair in the universe,” I say, knowing for certain he swapped this out with dad’s comfy desk chair he’s had for years. I guess I’ll have to buy myself a new one then.
“Wait till you see him before caffeine if you think this is bad.”
I note he’s left me a stack of files on my desk, which I’ve no idea what to do with. On top there is a sticky note in his scribbly writing which says: see me. Uh, okay, boss man.
“Great, can’t wait until Monday.”
Gabe takes Trinity to soccer practice on the weekend, so there’s no reason for him to be stopping by today. This is just another way for him to assert his authority like a little schoolgirl.
“Wanna come down and check out the new bottles?” Brooklyn asks. “Might put you in a better mood.”
“Fine,” I say, knowing that if I do happen to run into Gabe today, he’s going to get a mouthful.
I take the manila folders with me and duck into his office, dumping them back on his own desk. I leave the sticky note on them, wondering if I should scribble fuck you over the top.
I refrain from being petty and childish, and follow Brooklyn across the hall and out toward where the magic happens. Two flights of stairs later, I begin to understand why he likes it down here so much. It’s quiet. It’s away from people. The oak barrels add a sense of character and infusion to the space. Copper stills dominate the area, something our family has used for decades. Copper is still considered the ideal material due to its durability and heat conductivity, as well as being resistant to corrosion. It also interacts with the spirit, removing undesirable compounds, including toxic sulfides.
One of the key components to what makes our product so special is the standards that the Bassett family has instilled for generations. That quality, character and continuity haven’t changed. We live and breathe this land. Everything around the distillery reminds me of my happy childhood. Annoying my grandpa, dad and uncle Jack when I was a boy. I always found production fascinating and enjoyed seeing how the bourbon started from corn and barley in the fields and then aged in charred oak barrels. The unique aroma of the sweet scent; derived from corn-heavy mash bill with notes of rich caramel and undernotes of vanilla. Then, when my father created the original cask strength, the aroma smelled like char and smoke. To this day, it brings a smile to my face when me and Gabe used to play tag around the barrels, always getting into trouble. My grandma chasing us around with a broomstick, ready to tan our hides, but we were always too fast for her.
A smile crosses my face as Brooklyn jabbers excitedly about the machines and how he wants to try a new blend, but dad shut the idea down.
“You know we’re in charge now, right?” I say. “I get dad ran a tight ship, but unlike Gabe, I’m open to ideas and with dad going on his cruise with mom, he won’t be around to be so nosy.”
Make no mistake, our father may have retired, but he’s not completely gone from the business. Ever since my uncle Jack’s accident years ago, he’s been more of a silent partner, and frankly, a lot more open-minded than my dad.
“That’s true.”
“What were your ideas?” I press, eager to find out more.
