29. Tanner
29
TANNER
A s I predicted, everyone is here tonight, and they all swivel in their seats to look at me walking into the bar holding Victoria’s hand.
“Why is everyone staring at us?” Victoria whispers to me out of the side of her mouth.
“Because they can’t understand why a beautiful young woman like you would be holding the hand of an old guy like me,” I tell her, only half joking. It is probably what they are thinking, but I would like to think that I have more respect in this town for them to have that as their first assumption. In reality, it is just that we are publicly announcing we are together. Which I know will fuel the town gossip grapevine for weeks.
“Ohhh, well, hello, you two,” Lacy says as Victoria and I slide into my booth at the back. We have a little more privacy back here, but not much.
“Hey, Lacy. Tanner here thinks the burgers could rival Benny’s in the city, so I am keen to try one.” Victoria’s face lights up at seeing her friend .
“Make it two, Lacy, and I’ll take a whiskey. My usual,” I tell her, nodding, and Lacy’s smile stays firmly in place as she glances between us.
“I’ll have a cola, please,” Victoria says, and I watch them as they look at each other like they are having a silent conversation, and I raise my eyebrow.
“Girl code,” Victoria murmurs before Lacy runs off to put in our order.
“So you like burgers and chocolate cake, but you don’t like whiskey?” I ask her, just before Lacy is already back with our drinks. That is one bonus to owning the bar; I always get served first.
“Hmm, it’s like drinking gasoline,” she says, taking her straw in her mouth and sucking on her drink. I pause as my eyes take her in, her neck as she swallows and the small hum of approval she makes. I have to clear my throat before I can talk.
“It is precision chemistry. Mine is a luxury to be enjoyed,” I tell her mockingly. I don’t expect her to like whiskey, but if we are going to continue spending time together, she will need to get used to the smell, at least.
“It’s a bit like coffee.” Sitting back against the booth, she watches me.
“Coffee?” I ask because I am not following her train of thought. It is one of the things I like about her, all these almost quirky things she does. She moves to a small town on her own. Wears a little pink on her every day of the week, regardless of the outfit. Walks up ladders in bright-pink slides and runs around barefoot in nothing but a pink robe. Thinks a pregnant goat is a male, and now puts whiskey and coffee in the same category. It makes no sense to me, but I know it all makes perfect sense to her.
“Well, I don’t drink coffee. It makes me too jittery. But I do like the smell of it and the initial taste.”
I take a sip of my whiskey and let her finish.
“Same as your whiskey. I don’t like to drink it, it burns my throat, but I like the smell of it on your breath and the taste of it on your lips,” she says sweetly, and I am glad I am sitting down because those words from her almost have me choking on my latest release.
“Here’re your burgers,” Lacy interrupts, sliding our plates in front of us, and Victoria smiles wide as Lacy retreats, like she didn’t just tease me with her words.
“Okay, moment of truth…” Victoria says as she picks up her burger and takes a big bite and nods to me in approval. She moans as she chews, and I grab my whiskey glass so hard I am surprised it doesn’t shatter in my hand, and then I down the entire thing immediately.
This woman makes me feel completely smitten in every way imaginable.
I have been in the city for most of the week, and as I sit in our high-rise office, I can’t wait to get back to Whispers and back to Victoria.
“Okay, gents, well, I think that is everything,” Valerie Van Cleef says, smiling. One of the richest women in the country has just done a business deal with Whiteman’s Whiskey, placing us in all her hotel establishments countrywide. It is a good deal, one that I was hesitant about at the beginning. Whiteman’s is exclusive. I don’t produce our whiskey for the masses. The value of our brand is in its limited editions and unique high-quality development. Our clientele are wealthy families, millionaires and billionaires. That’s why our friend, President Harrison Rothschild, named it the only whiskey he drinks when he indulges. When he made that statement, our sales went nuclear.
“Great to see you again, Val. Looking forward to seeing Whiteman’s in your VIP lounges,” I say as I stand, shaking her hand.
“Don’t forget, we have that fundraiser for the Bloomer Books Literacy Program in Baltimore next week,” she reminds me, and I nod. I don’t go to many galas these days, but I do support the Rothschilds, and I know Valerie is close with Huxley and Lucy, just as we are.
“We will be there,” Connor says, and she smiles as she shakes his hand. He walks her and her small team out as I sit again.
My time in the city, even though it is only every month or so, is time I prefer to be home, yet I know business doesn’t work like that. Connor doesn’t love being here that much either. Our deals are always done with the top end of town, and while Whispers is becoming extremely popular with the wealthy and celebrities, the city is still where many deals are done. On previous trips, we spent the week working, eating out at fancy restaurants, and meeting ladies. Usually, with Sawyer or one of our other friends in tow. But this time, it is different.
“That’s all done. Shipment dates have been organized, and Lacy is getting our marketing and our PR agency onto the strategy. A few more weeks and it should be all easy sailing,” Connor says, stepping back into the boardroom. I nod, thinking about the special batches of whiskey I have made, aged a little less than I prefer, but this line will be more accessible for those who frequent Van Cleef establishments.
“It’s all going to plan, then,” I say mindlessly.
“It is. On track.” He pauses, looking at me. “Soooo, are you bringing Victoria to the gala?” Connor asks me, and I take a breath.
“I haven't asked her yet, but I will.” I nod to him.
“So going public in the city already. I heard you took her to the bar the other night, so it must be going well?” Connor says as a question, and I smile. I haven’t stopped thinking about her. It is going well. Really fucking well.
But I also can’t stop thinking about who ran over her rosebush and put a fucking rose inside her home when she wasn’t there.
“She was certainly unexpected,” I say honestly.
“I like her. She is good for you.”
“Is that your way of giving me your approval?” I ask him. Because it matters. What Connor thinks matters a lot.
“You don’t need it, but you have it. Does that mean she is someone you plan to have in your life for a while?” He looks at me seriously.
“I’m working on it.” I’m not able to stop my smile as my mouth curves up of its own accord. Just thinking about her makes me happy.
“If you're happy, Dad, I’m happy,” Connor says, and I swallow hard. I don’t like not being able to see her when I want. When I am home at the distillery, I know she is only a minute away. Since Gertie had her babies, I had been with Victoria every day until I had to fly out for this trip. I did what I needed to at the distillery, and then every night, I went over to help her lock up the animals and we had dinner together. I spent the night with her, making her moan my name over and over, and then struggled to leave her in the morning. Now being miles away is harder than I thought it would be.
As if the universe feels sorry for me, my cell chimes, and I see a notification from her. Clicking into her socials, I see she has posted a photo.
“Cute,” Connor says, and I look up at him quickly, seeing him looking at his phone as well. “I can’t believe she called the kids Gabriella and Gemma. Is it a ‘G’ theme or something? And what is up with the name Gertie?” He huffs a laugh, and I smile wider. Like my son mentioned, she is a little crazy.
“Don’t say you are following her too?” It is becoming clear that my son has latched on to her social media, and we are looking at the same image of my girl, who’s looking beautiful carrying two baby goats, one under each arm.
“Everyone is, Dad. Her social channels are extremely popular. Look at how many likes she is getting. She has hit a gold mine,” Connor says, and I frown as I look back at the image of her. All I see is her beauty, her grace, and her smile. The way her face lights up, her eyes glistening with pure happiness. The breeze pushes her hair to the side of her face, framing her cheeks and flowing over her shoulder. I see the way she is holding those baby goats so tight, as if they were her own children and she doesn't want to let them fall. What I don’t look at is the amount of likes and shares and comments, and when I do focus on that, I feel unsettled because there are literally thousands and they are increasing by the minute.
“I think someone was in her house the other day…” I murmur to Connor. “The rosebushes, the ones she mentioned I ran over. That wasn’t me, and it wasn’t her, but whoever it was, they also left her a rose inside.” The anxiety of familiar panic runs up my spine. The same feeling I got when I searched for Connor's mom for months and months and in the end couldn't find her. When I found out she was okay, the relief was there, but the pain didn’t subside.
“Maybe it was Jasmine or Lacy?” he says, already knowing what I am thinking.
“I think someone was there who shouldn’t have been,” I tell him, my nostrils flaring as I look at him. I have given my security team all the information I have on Marie and Victoria’s father, which, to be fair, isn’t much. But something in my gut tells me that he isn’t a good guy.
“It was probably her and she just didn't want to tell you. Knowing how grumpy you would be,” Connor mentions, and I take a deep breath. Maybe he is right. Maybe I am being too protective.
“Maybe…” I say, thinking about it.
“We just have this paperwork to finish, and then you should grab the car back to the jet,” Connor says, and I frown in confusion.
“Jet?” I have a few more nights here to go through some other paperwork and meetings Connor has arranged.
“You have been here for a few days, and I have never seen you so disconnected. I thought maybe you should go back early, see Victoria. See your new babies. I can handle everything here for the rest of the week.”
I look at my son, my emotions mixed. It has always been the two of us. My sole focus in my entire adult life has been him and Whiteman’s. I worked hard to make something of myself, to be a father he could be proud of. I worked hard to get him into the best college, get him everything he needed. I was there for every homework assignment, every bump and scratch. I tried to fill the role of both parents, rarely having any time to myself. The tides are now changing a little, the two of us can feel it.
“Who knows what I will find when I get back there. The bloody cow is probably in calf, and then we will have a whole barnyard of animals,” I tell him, scoffing a laugh.
“I always wanted a sibling. I just preferred it to be of the human variety,” he says as we bring up the next item of business and get down to work, but me with an extra spring in my step, knowing I will be home soon.