Page 51 of Sipping Seduction
“Yeah.” Cole sighed. It didn't sound like a positive sigh, and I had a feeling he’d encountered more obstacles along his way searching for the best way to make the Devil's Distinct—the original and bestselling whiskey we'd ever produced. “I've hit a few snags, but I'm not giving up. I ordered a couple of different strains of yeast since we've got it narrowed down, but I haven't been able to single out which one they might have used for Devil’s Distinct. I'm hoping we can run a couple of batches using the different options and within a month or two, maybe get some idea of which direction to go.”
I'd never had a reason to doubt my older brother’s commitment to the family and the distillery. My dad had been right to name him co-master distiller. Cole would figure out how to recreate that recipe if it was the last thing he ever did.
“Alright. I'll see you later. I’d better get to it. We're bottling some of the fall flavors today. I've got your apple cinnamon whiskey up first, then the Stewarts are running some pumpkin spice moonshine right behind it.”
Cole visibly recoiled at the mention of pumpkin spice spirits.
“Harper said it tested well and the focus group—”
“A focus group made up mostly of her friends,” Cole said. “She’ll justify what she wants using any means necessary. I sure as hell wish that attorney had been able to figure out a way to split the distillery apart. I can guarantee we wouldn't be spending time and effort making flavored moonshine like half the other distilleries in Tennessee.”
Even though all parties involved had agreed to add a few other offerings to our lineup, Cole still struggled with the idea of producing moonshine on the hallowed grounds of the distillery. “Just think, all that flavored moonshine probably paid for your honeymoon.”
“Yeah, a honeymoon I haven't been able to take yet,” Cole said.
He and Danica were supposed to fly to the Bahamas the day after their wedding, but thanks to the storm and all the trees that had been blown down around town, they hadn't been able to get to the airport. They rescheduled to go in January, but that was a hell of a long way away. If it had been me, I would have just holed up at home and enjoyed my new bride for a week, but Cole couldn't seem to stay away from the distillery. Making whiskey was his life's true passion, and I envied him for knowing that about himself. Beyond loving Frannie, I wasn't sure there was anything I cared that much about.
“Let me know if you decide to skip the after-work run and want to grab a beer instead,” Cole said. “Danica's got book club tonight, so I'm on my own for dinner.”
“Will do.” I clapped him on the shoulder and headed toward the production office to get my day started.
CHAPTER26
Frannie
“So, spill, girl.”Charice sat across from me at the small wooden table. We’d just put in an order for spinach and artichoke dip. She’d be enjoying pita chips while I’d make do with tortilla rounds. Both of us were already halfway through our first cherry flirtini. Charice had discovered this place about six months ago, and now it was our favorite hangout spot when it was just the two of us. Not only did they have an extensive appetizer menu, but happy hour went from four to six, which made it the perfect place to stop right after school.
“What do you mean, spill?” I asked as I reached for my drink. She seemed to know more about my relationship with Evan than I did, at least based on the gossip she’d picked up around town.
“I mean, tell me everything.” She leaned forward. “Last I heard, you did the drive of shame in nothing but Evan’s tux shirt. We haven't really gotten together since then, so I'm going through detail withdrawal.”
I used my napkin to sop up the wet ring my drink had left on the table. “There's not much else to tell. Evan and I are pretty boring. We go to work, we come home and have dinner, maybe watch a little TV, and then we’re in bed. It’s not like he’s changed since we decided to start kissing. He’s still the best friend I’ve always known.”
“Yeah, best friend with some major benefits,” Charice said. “By the way, how are those benefits? Has he sent you to O-Town since the first time?”
I rolled my eyes, wishing with all my heart I’d never told Charice about my inability to orgasm during sex. She'd been fascinated by my struggle and felt like her concern gave her the right to ask for a detailed recap of my sexcapades.
“Things are good.” I picked up the cherry from my drink and popped it into my mouth.
“I'll take that as a yes,” Charice said. “It's about time you learned what all the fuss is about.”
I’d definitely learned what all the fuss was about, but I wasn't about to share the intimate details of my sex life. Some things needed to stay just between me and Evan.
“How are the signups coming for the fun run?” I asked, desperate for a change of topic. Charice had volunteered to take the lead on the fundraising efforts—a job I was more than happy to turn over to her after being responsible for the past three years.
Her eyes lit up. “You'll never guess who our number one fundraiser is right now.”
I had a pretty good idea since Evan told me he’d secured a ten-thousand-dollar donation from Devil’s Dance. So I slid my drink closer and bent down to touch my lips to the straw. “Tell me.”
Charice glanced around and leaned across the table. She lowered her voice as if she was spilling state secrets, not revealing who’d raised the most money for Beaver Bluff Elementary so far. I went along, more than willing to play into her need for drama. There had been several times over the past few years when I'd wondered why she'd gotten a degree in counseling when she could have become a successful actress.
“It’s Andrew Stewart,” she whispered into the narrow space between us.
I’d just swallowed a sip of my drink and a few drops dribbled out of the corner of my mouth. “What?”
“Yeah, it's the craziest thing. I guess he's a regular at the Boston Marathon and has actually done some sponsor spots for a company that sells elite running shoes and another that peddles power bars. Thanks to his connections, we’ve added another twenty grand to the pot.”
My initial reaction was to clap my hands in excitement. In years past, we might have only raised a total of ten grand. So far this year, with Evan’s and Andrew’s donations alone, we'd more than tripled where we ended up last year.
