23. Tanner
23
TANNER
I wanted to stay with Victoria all afternoon yesterday. Who wouldn’t after she gave me the best blow job of my entire life and came on my cock, leaving me breathless and instantly wanting to do it all again.
But I got a call from Connor, and the day went downhill from there. Now I rub my eyes because I have had little sleep. It took us all last night to clean up, all morning to fix what was broken, and now a full day later, we are all feeling defeated. I stand in one of my aging rooms, surveying the team who have all been called in. My jaw is tight and my head is already throbbing, the memory of my beautiful neighbor now pushed to the back of my mind while I work out how to fix this mess.
“Tell me again how this happened?” I ask, looking around at the team, who’re all full of remorse and sadness.
“It was an accident,” Lacy says. It isn’t her fault, but I know she takes everything to heart .
“I’m sorry, sir. It was my fault. There were flowers on the side, and I have allergies. I sneezed, and my hand must have slipped when I was steering the forklift,” one of my workers says, and I breathe out, nodding. I look at him, taking in his red eyes and his running nose. He isn’t lying, if the amount he is wiping it is any indication. It was an accident; these things happen. But as I glance at the spot in my aging room, where only twenty-four hours before it was covered in broken oak barrels and fermented whiskey, the stench is still strong, and this has set us back a little bit.
“What the hell are flowers doing in my barrel room?” I ask, confused, looking right at Connor and Lacy.
Connor shrugs and shakes his head so I look at Lacy.
“Jasmine came by. I was busy with the shipment out the back, so I left her to it. She knows not to put any flowers in here, though, so I don’t know why she did,” Lacy says, frowning. I take a breath and try to calm my anger. I have a good team of people here. All locals and all who have been working at Whiteman’s for years. We’ll figure this out. “Maybe we can make what’s left of this batch a limited edition?” she suggests.
“How so?” Connor barks, as pissed off as I am. Lacy stiffens, and I look between them. They don’t know each other very well. I hired Lacy a few months ago and Connor has been in the city for most of that time.
“Well, maybe we can design a special label, potentially design a new look bottle. Market it a little differently?” Lacy explains, and I am now seeing her Marketing and Communications degree coming in handy. I nod at her to continue .
“We could cut the aging process, and then offer it as a special edition for the holidays?” Connor chips in, and I like that idea.
“What would we call it?” I ask, looking around the group of staff, who, although deflated from losing so many barrels, are starting to look more hopeful. It isn’t every day the forklift pierces a barrel, which has a domino effect on the others, leaving us with less than half the aging barrels we had in this particular room. It is one of the reasons I put in multiple aging rooms. All with fire walls between them. The distillery is huge, with five different aging rooms, the main restaurant and tasting area, as well as the manufacturing and bottling space and our warehouse.
“We could make it a gold label?” Lacy suggests, and I like it, but it isn’t different enough.
“This will be stupidly exclusive. I estimate what, maybe a couple of thousand bottles at best. The name needs to be more. Meaning more. It has to be different,” I prompt them, and they all look deep in thought.
“What about creating our own sub brand. Whiteman’s Next Door?” Connor says seriously.
“Next door?” My brow furrows, wondering what he is thinking.
“We could market it as the exclusive whiskey you share with your friends. Your neighbors .” He gives me a look, and I raise an eyebrow. He is a smart-ass sometimes, and I know he is teasing me, but in front of all our staff, I can’t berate him.
“We market it like the beverage of choice to celebrate the holidays, keeping you and your neighbor warm from the inside out,” Lacy says, her smile small but starting to build.
“Next Door?” I ask the group of staff, and I get a few nods with positive comments.
“Instead of a black label, we can make this one navy blue. We could then replace the golden WW logo of our regular batch with a golden door. Next Door by Whiteman’s. Meant to be shared, ” Lacy says.
“I like it,” I say, nodding. It really is a great idea, and there’s definitely meaning behind it. Exactly what I was hoping for. “Alright, let’s get back to work,” I tell the rest of the staff. The whole place still smells like pure alcohol, and after a spill like this, it can become a fire hazard. My team now needs to do some serious deep cleaning before they go home for the day, so they all start to get busy as Lacy, Connor, and I regroup.
“I can get the design team to mock something up?” she asks, looking excited.
“Do it. You can manage this project, Lacy,” I tell her and she looks at me, wide-eyed.
“Really?” she asks with bated breath.
“Treat it like your baby. You’ve been here a few months now, so I'm promoting you to marketing manager. You and Connor can work together on this release.” If I had a feather, I think it would knock her over.
“Thank you, Tanner,” she says with an eager nod. “I won’t let you down.”
“I know.” Lacy has proven herself. Time and time again, she has gone above and beyond. Things are not great at home for her, but a young woman like her really needs to start her career, and if Whiteman’s can help her, then I feel like that is what I should do. She smiles wide and jumps on the spot before turning and leaving the warehouse on cloud nine.
“You want me to babysit her?” Connor asks me, seemingly less than impressed.
“Don’t underestimate her. She finished top of her class. She is only back in Whispers because of her mother,” I tell him as we walk to the boardroom.
“I don't have time to babysit her, Dad. I have our tax position to get sorted; I need to dot the i’s and cross the t’s on Van Cleef. Not to mention, I need to get back to the city for a meeting with the overseas distributors about finalizing the contracts,” he says, and I pause to look at him.
“Just do your best. I will be here with her most days, but I think it would be good for you to get to know her,” I tell him, and he sighs.
“Fine,” he grumbles like he is ten and I am asking him to do his chores, and I smile at that memory as we close the door to talk privately. Walking to my chair, I see a floral arrangement on the sideboard. We have no external meetings this week, so I am surprised.
“Connor, what the hell are flowers doing in my aging rooms?” I am still totally baffled by that.
“No idea. I think Jasmine probably thought that since we take our tour groups through those rooms, that maybe we wanted to brighten up the place.” He sits and sighs, the weight of this issue now firmly on our shoulders .
“I am starting to think hiring her to add floral arrangements wasn’t a smart idea,” I murmur as I run my hands through my hair.
“They are good in the restaurant and at reception,” he offers, and I nod. “How’s Victoria doing?” Connor asks, changing the subject, knowing I was with her yesterday when he called me.
“Fine. Her ankle is all healed. But…” I try to get my thoughts together. It feels like it has been weeks since I saw her, not just twenty-four hours. “When you did that finance search on her, you mentioned her father?”
“Yeah, there wasn’t a lot on him. He has a small criminal record, plus bankruptcy. Why?” he asks, and I lean back in my chair.
“Victoria found some old paperwork from Marie's. Some letters from her father to Marie that were pretty nasty. Talking about the ownership of the property.”
“You think now that Marie is gone, he might show back up?” Connor asks, coming to the same conclusion I am.
“Maybe. Maybe not. I am going to put a team on him. Find him. Watch him.” I sit for a moment and think.
“Well, his financial situation didn’t look good…” Connor says.
“Desperate men do desperate things.” I tap out a text to the security team I use to tee up a meeting to talk about it tomorrow.
“Well, right now, we need to talk about our expansion plans. After what happened yesterday, I need to go through the quarterly numbers with you,” Connor says, pulling out his laptop. And just like that, my ache to see Victoria deepens. So I text her quickly before we get into it.
I’ll be working all night. Sorry again for rushing out yesterday.
It’s okay. I have found another album of photos so I am busy looking through family history.
Any more cute pigtails?
No, but will this do?
I look at the text as an image comes through. It is of her bare shoulders and part of her chest. She has nothing on but her white lace bra. It is not at all revealing, but my cock stirs already.
You’re killing me.
Death by orgasm?
Sign me up. I’ll see you tomorrow.
Don’t work too hard.
Huffing, I look up and see Connor grinning at me. I roll my eyes and pocket my cell, still thinking about her. It feels nice to be wanted. And her independence is something that appeals to me. Her smile, her smarts. The way her body curves and the way her face transforms when she comes. I am starting to catch serious feelings for this woman. And I don’t know what the hell to do about it.