He unmutes us and clears his throat. “As you all know, Mac is retiring at the end of this year and we’re looking for his replacement. We wanted to speak to all of you first, as the most experienced distillers we have. You’ve all been with Prince Bourbon for fifteen plus years, and we value your input. The floor is open.”
Pat is quick to unmute himself. “We’ll need to start looking right away. Since you’ll be gone.”
Aiden nods. My pulse quickens. Upheaval is bad for the company. And with how long bourbon ages, a gap today means problems ten years from now.
“And,” he adds, “there’s no one we can promote from within outside of this group.”
Darcy, the quiet one, folds her arms and watches us.Miguel, the youngest, resettles his cap on his head. None of them want to gainsay Pat. I frown.
“No one?”
Pat’s gaze is challenging, even through the computer. “No one.”
Aiden gives me a look. Pat has been angling for a promotion for years. Neither of us wants to give it to him because we don’t like his attitude, but frankly, at this point, we need his experience. Too much knowledge died with Dad and too many bottles were lost when Grandfather closed the Hart’s Hill distillery. We got back a few, but not all, and Aiden is rebuilding it, but it won’t be done for years. We can’t afford dissension and we have to keep Pat happy.
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Aiden says firmly. I can see wheels turning in his head.How do we do this diplomatically?
I can see Pat nearly sneering through the video. He thinks Aiden is a weak leader. I’ve heard him say it before, but only when he thinks none of us can hear him. He’s exactly the type of guy I hate. The type who likes to make others feel small so he can feel bigger. I would rather die than let anyone make Aiden feel small.
“It’s what I said, isn’t—”
“That’s enough.” My voice slices through the room. Everyone falls silent.
My hand clenches and unclenches under the table. In for a penny, in for a pound. I blow out a long breath and think about the notebooks I have filled with ideas, the times I wake up in the middle of the night to jot an idea down or test a new recipe. This company ismine. Ours. I care about it so much that my whole chest aches when I think about things to improve or mistakes we’ve made over the years.
You’re the heart, Katie told me.
“We appreciate your input. You’ve all been loyalemployees of Prince Bourbon for years. But I believe in leaving no stone unturned and I’d like to see your recommendations for the best people on each of your teams by the end of the week. And I’d like two recommendations from each of you for distillers you admire outside the company. Half of the candidates must be from underrepresented groups.”
It’s a statement, not a question, and everyone nods, even Pat, who looks murderous.
I’m breathing hard when I hang up the call.
Aiden is grinning at me. “Congratulations, Mr. CEO.”
“What do you mean? We haven’t announced yet.”
His smile grows. “Too late, Tris. I think you just did.”
18
KATIE
Tristan
Remember to call me if you need a ride.
Katie
Thanks, Dad.
Tristan
That’s Daddy to you.
And remember to be yourself.
Katie
