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What if there was a simple, harmless explanation?
Savannah would be furious he’d read her private text message. Even if he’d done so inadvertently.
Blake had been burned before by getting involved with someone who wasn’t as committed to the relationship as he was. Perhaps Savannah’s reluctance to take their relationship public went beyond worries over her career.
And then there was the day she’d been in his home office, ostensibly to find a pen. Could there have been another reason?
Blake groaned.
He was being paranoid. Admittedly, her sister’s text message didn’t look good. But it wasn’t as if Savannah had initiated a relationship with him. Or even wanted to come back to his house that night. Both had been his idea.
Blake grabbed the crate and returned to his truck. Whatever the truth was, he’d find a way to get to the bottom of it.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Savannah sat down at the bar for a moment and ordered an energy drink.
Most of the night’s pomp and circumstance had already played out. The Abbott family had taken the stage and thanked everyone—including the town of Magnolia Lake—for its support for the past half century. A handful of celebs, business executives and longtime employees had shared anecdotes about King’s Finest bourbon.
A few other big names circulated throughout the crowd. They mixed it up with employees, townsfolk, distributors and the numerous reporters she’d invited.
Savannah had been moving at warp speed for the past seventy-two hours. It wasn’t surprising she was tired. But tonight, she was unusually exhausted. And she’d felt slightly nauseous all day.
She finished her energy drink. Then she ordered a ginger ale to allay the queasiness.
“Everything okay?” Blake sat beside her.
There was something going on with him. He’d been slightly aloof since he brought the crate to her.
She’d tried to create distance between them in their public dealings. But there was something about Blake’s sudden indifference that made her feel she was standing naked in a blizzard, desperate to come in from the cold.
Blake wore the expensive sand-colored suit and navy-and-white gingham-check shirt she’d selected for him during a recent visit to Nashville. It suited the man and the occasion. Serious and elegant with a bit of playfulness beneath the refined surface.
“Everything is fine. It’s just been a really long couple of days. I’m a little run-down.”
“Anything else wrong?” He turned slowly on the bar stool to face her. For the first time, he was sizing her up.
Judging her.
A chill ran down Savannah’s spine. She wasn’t imagining it. Something was wrong. Had she left an incriminating note on her desk?
Impossible.
She didn’t handwrite notes about the Abbotts or the distillery. She captured digital notes in her phone.
My phone.
It’d been in the box Blake delivered to her. Had he gone through it and found her notes?
Savannah forced a smile. No point in panicking without good reason. That would only make her seem guilty.
“Everything is good. Nearly everyone who RSVP’d made it. All of the staff and musical acts showed up. Things are running smoothly.” As she spoke, Savannah inwardly ticked off possible reasons for Blake’s change in attitude. “People seem to be enjoying themselves, especially your grandfather.”
“Haven’t seen him that emotional since my grandmother died ten years ago.” Blake’s stony expression softened. His eyes met hers. “I can’t thank you enough for giving him all this.”
Savannah’s spine was as stiff as her smile. When she’d proposed this event, she’d hoped it would be the night she humiliated the Abbotts. The night when she pulled back the curtain and revealed the ugly truth that they were cruel, heartless liars and thieves who’d taken credit for her grandfather’s work.
“My pleasure.” Savannah finished her ginger ale and stood. “I have to go powder my nose.” Her bladder was clearly unable to keep up with the amount of liquids she’d consumed throughout the day. “See you later.”
Blake caught her hand in his and pulled her closer. He searched her eyes, as if seeking an answer to some burning question.
“What is it, Blake?” Savannah glanced around, her cheeks hot. She ignored the bartender’s sly grin. “There’s obviously something you want to say.”
He averted his gaze. “Wrong place. Wrong time.” He nodded toward the restrooms. “We can talk later.”
Savannah made a beeline for the bathroom. But she couldn’t help thinking that whatever it was Blake wanted to ask her would be the beginning of the end.
* * *
