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“But why is she so fixated on some nonexistent business partner of Granddad’s?” Parker shoved a finger in his direction.
That was odd. If she wanted to know, why hadn’t she just asked him? It was one more thing they needed to discuss.
“I’ll get to the bottom of it, Parker. Don’t worry. Besides, it’s not as if we have anything to hide.” Blake studied his brother’s face. “Do we?”
“No, but I still don’t like it. Feels like she’s got her own agenda. One that isn’t aligned with ours.” Parker sank into his chair again.
“Then why come to me? Dad’s CEO of the company, and she reports directly to Max.” Blake’s eyes didn’t meet his brother’s.
“You hired Savannah, and I know…” Parker ratcheted down the judgment in his voice. “I know how fond you are of her.”
Blake’s jaw tensed. “I’d never jeopardize this company. Nor will I allow anyone else to. So if you think we have reason to be wary of Savannah…”
“That’s not what I’m saying.” Parker crossed an ankle over his knee.
“Then what are you saying?” Blake pressed his brother. If he was going to make an accusation against Savannah, he’d damn sure better be clear about it.
Parker tapped on the arm of the chair. “One of us needs to find out exactly what she’s trying to uncover and why.”
“Are you willing to possibly burn this bridge?” It was the same question he’d been forced to decide where he and Savannah were concerned.
“Dammit, Blake, none of us wants to lose her.” Parker sighed heavily. “She’s been good for us. Made a major impact in a short period of time. But our first job is to protect this distillery, and to protect the family. Even if that means losing Savannah.”
Blake nodded. “Let’s talk to Max about this when he returns from Philly tomorrow. Then we’ll decide how to approach it.”
The situation between him and Savannah had just become exponentially more complicated. If he gave her an ultimatum on their relationship, and she turned him down, the company’s inquiry into her behavior would seem like retaliation.
That would be devastating to their reputation. Something he’d never allow.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“I’m going on my dinner break now. Do you think I’ll be able to clean your office when I return?” Maureen stood in the doorway in her housekeeping uniform, doing her best not to look annoyed.
“I’ll try to finish up for the night before you come back.” Savannah smiled at the woman, and she turned and left.
When the elevator doors closed, Savannah rushed to Maureen’s cleaning cart.
Savannah had worked late every night since the gala, looking for her opportunity to search the archived files that predated the company’s use of computers.
It was her last hope of finding something useful before her sister’s looming two-week deadline.
Savannah retrieved the large key ring from Maureen’s cart and made her way down to the file room. She tried nearly every key before she found the right one.
She slipped inside the large, windowless space and switched on her flashlight. The room smelled stale and dust floated in the air. Steel file cabinets lined the brick walls in the first portion of the room. Antique wooden furniture was pushed up against the back wall.
Savannah checked her watch. She had little more than half an hour. She moved to the file cabinet marked with the earliest dates and pulled out a drawer stuffed with yellowed files. Most of the papers were typed. Some were handwritten.
By his own admission, Joseph Abbott had dumped her grandfather as his partner before starting the company. Maybe the files contained information about the origin of the company’s recipes and procedures.
Savannah checked her watch again and cursed under her breath. Fifteen minutes left.
She was dirty, sweaty, and had gotten several paper cuts during her frantic search through the files. She finally found a pad with notes written in familiar longhand.
Her grandfather’s.
She removed the notebook and continued sifting through the files. Savannah opened an envelope marked “Old Photos.” She recognized her grandfather in one of them. “Joe and Marty” was scribbled on the back.
Savannah froze at the sound of voices in the hall.
Someone’s coming.
She quietly closed the drawer and hid in the shadows, crouching between a tall bookcase and a large antique bureau desk. She clutched her grandfather’s notebook and the photo of her grandfather and Joseph Abbott.
Keys jangled in the door, and then the hinges creaked.
“Switch on the light. I just walked into a spiderweb.”
