Page 22 of Bourbon and Lies

She looks up at me, confused and surprised.Who the fuck is texting her?It’s one thing for me to push her, but I’m not a fan of someone else shaking her up. “I’m sorry, what did you ask?”

“How’d you make a living in Colorado?”

Lark chimes in, “She was a florist. That was her high school job.”

Lily adds, “Plus, she was fired.”

She sips her sweet tea and takes a quick, shallow breath, looking around the table, and then starts talking. “I don’t have a job right now. I didn’t think I’d be a career girl. I liked jobs that you could go to and leave. But then, after college, that was...not reliable. I was good at planning details for parties for our neighbors growing up. Like baby showers and retirement parties.” Pausing, she waves at the air in front of her.

“Anyway, I liked planning events and found an internship with a prestigious company that did weddings and some larger-scale parties. But I’ve done lots of things. That was the last. The one I worked hardest for. And it made me the most money. But waiting tables and bartending were the main earners for a while before that. I was also a concierge at a hotel.”

She looks down at the table and away from me, but then smiles at Lincoln and Ace. “That one was awful,” she says more quietly. “There was the short stint as a hairdresser, but I was young and had a bad semester at school, so I thought I’d try a trade. I ended up washing a lot of people's hair. Botched a few bangs and almost threw up when I was giving someone a perm. I was good at hot shaves, though.” She puts a strawberry in her mouth, and it bulges out her right cheek. She’s rambling. If she didn’t look so anxious, she’d be cute. I want to see her fumble over her words, but at the same time, I can’t help but notice howenticing that mouth of hers looks filled with the juice from her strawberry threatening to escape.

I shift in my chair.

“The event planning was a lot of fun, but it took me a while to build up a reputation and client trust. Let's just say, I didn’t have much mad money.”

Lily pipes in, asking, “What’s mad money?”

The fans are still oscillating above the long patio table, but Laney’s sweating. And she keeps talking. “I thought I’d end up doing what my dad did, but that didn’t pan out. I’m not always the best with patriarchal authority.” Looking around the table of men, she snort-laughs. “Go figure.” With a shrug, she tosses another too-big strawberry in her mouth and talks around it. “But I had a knack for people liking me.”

I understood that. Felt it no matter how much I didn’t want to.

“And I can pair things together well. Linens with signature cocktails. Colors that complimented moods or an aesthetic. That sort of thing. My boss liked that I was good at keeping brides entertained.”

Under my breath, I can’t help but mutter, “Thisis entertaining.”

She squints a glare at me, and it’s impossible to hide my smirk in response.

Then she continues talking with her hands, animated and keeping this conversation far from boring or forgettable. “I booked burlesque dancers for an event once and I really loved it. So I tried that for a while—I didn’t sing or anything, but I loved dancing. I looked good doing it too. That was the job before I decided on weddings and events. When I started interning for the events company, I worked with a few headliners who had done private parties, but then one of the wedding clients thought they recognized me, and I had to make a decision.”

At the thought of her dancing, or dancing for me, my dick slaps me like a distracted buddy, asking,If I heard that!Jesus, this is going the wrong way fast. I’m not supposed to be the one getting shaken up by my own question.

Lincoln’s eyebrows are practically at his hairline. Next to him, Hadley is smiling, borderline laughing. Laney must see it too, because she starts to backtrack. “Not likethosekinds of private parties. It wasn’t stripping. Those girls made good money in the city, but that was a different category of entertainment. My body is curvier, which is ideal for burlesque. Plus, I’m good at reading a crowd, and”—she slows her sentence, but instead of stopping, she decides to look right at me when she finishes—“I was a good tease.”

I stare at her pretty lips still stained from her red lipstick that she wore over here, mixed with the juice from those fucking strawberries. My mind reels, thinking about her teasing someone else with that pretty mouth and her perfect tits. Fuck. This is a shit-show. I shift again, rubbing the back of my neck.

Glancing around the table, I’m met with a wide smile from Griz, as amused as can be. Ace rests his hand on his chin, probably trying to figure out what he’s gotten himself into, or he’s pissed I couldn’t just keep the questions to myself. There’s a dumbstruck look still plastered on Lincoln’s face. Lily is drawing on her iPad, and Lark must have left the table.

“I’ve got some spots behind the tasting bar that I think would be a great place for you to learn a little more about our brand. My bartenders are troves of knowledge, not just about Foxx Bourbon, but just about every rule bourbon has and what we do to make sure we follow them.”

I can see her smiling from my periphery. My focus, however, is on my brother and why he’d consider that resume ramble acceptable.

He shifts his attention to me, and then to Lincoln, before he adds, “I’d like you to help with our events as well. We have a Women in Whiskey dinner at the distillery next week that needs some last-minute support if you’re up for it.”

The sound of her phone buzzing has her standing from the table. “Absolutely. I’d really love that.” She glances down again at her phone before she says, “I’m sorry, my aunt just asked me to call her.” The sound of the chair dragging disrupts everyone and has them looking. “Ace, would you mind if I just take this inside?”

He gives her a nod to go ahead.

“I’m here,” she says as she closes the sliding door behind her.

“The fuck was all of that?” Lincoln asks, pulling my attention from Laney back to the table.

I sit up and take a bite of the piece of bacon left on my plate. “What was what?”

Griz barks out another laugh. “You just turned back into Officer Foxx, that’s what.”

I shrug. “You want to keep me out of the loop, that’s fine. But then I’m going to get answers to things”—I look back at her pacing inside—“or from people who don’t sit right with me.”

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