Chapter 17 – Luke
LUKE
Sitting at the tasting room bar, I watch Leonard’s face carefully as he sips the first large batch version of the cherrywood whiskey blend. He purses his lips as he considers.
“It tastes good,” he says finally.
“What do you mean, good?” I ask. “Good as in not great, or good as in good?”
“I meant what I said. It's good.”
“What would make it better? How do we bump it up from a good to a fantastic? What went wrong between the small batch in this one? What—”
“Well, damn, what do you want me to do? Compose an ode to it?” He shakes his head. “It's good. The large batch is just as good as the small batch. I don't think we need to make any changes.”
“Are you sure? Because I could add in more of the corn blend—”
“Enough,” Leonard says firmly. “This is a very good whiskey. Probably the best you've ever made. You can be proud of that.”
I duck my head, suddenly incapable of looking him in the eye. That's the highest praise Leonard has ever given me, and I’m embarrassed of how goddamn much that means to me. There’s no one else whose taste in whiskey I respect more.
“Thanks,” I mutter. “I just hope the market agrees with you.”
The door behind us creaks, and I turn to see Beau walking through the entrance.
“Hey, guys,” he says. He waves his hand awkwardly. “Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt.”
“Come on in,” Leonard says. “We were just finishing up. I have to put this batch into larger production before Luke convinces himself it’s a fluke.”
“He’s right.” I gesture for Beau to come in. “Save me from my second-guessing. What’s going on?”
As Leonard heads back to the storeroom, Beau takes his place on the opposite stool. Of course, because Beau’s a giant, his eyes are almost a foot above where Leonard’s were.
“I was in the neighborhood and just thought I'd stop by,” he says.
I almost do a double take. Just stopping by to surprise each other was something Beau and I did B.B.
: before Brinley. Before he came clean about their secret relationship and dropped the bomb on our friendship.
We've been slowly working back toward normal, but this casual visit is… weird. It feels weird.
Beau’s not acting quite right, either. Even though we keep it warm in the distillery, he’s still in his winter coat and scarf. “You don't want to take those off?” I ask.
“Oh. Yeah. Right.” He shrugs off his wool coat and puts it back over the chair. “So…how are you?”
“I’m good. Do you want a drink?”
“Yes.” Beau nods. “Can we do a shot?”
“If you want, but you know it’s eleven in the morning, right?”
“I know. It’s just—fuck, can you just pour me something and then I’ll explain?”
The more I look at Beau, the worse he looks. His eyes dart nervously around the room, and his normally-warm complexion looks almost gray. Sighing, I pull out a bottle of well whiskey and pour us each a shot. We clink glasses and both throw them back. Beau puts his firmly on the bar and looks at me.
“Fuck, I'm just going to say it. I want your blessing to ask Brinley to marry me.”
My jaw drops. What the fuck? They just moved in together. They've only been together for a few months. Well, officially, anyway. Before that, they kept their relationship under wraps for years. It just seems like too much, too soon.
“I don’t know, Beau,” I mutter. “I’m surprised. This—this is a lot.”
He drags his fingers through his hair. “I know you don't owe me anything, and you don't have to say yes if you really don't want to.
It's just—she's the one. I'm fucking in love with her, and I don't even know how to imagine life without her in it. I want her to be my wife. But you’re so important to us, and it wouldn't feel right without your blessing. So I’m asking, fully aware that I might walk out of here with a broken nose.” He takes a deep breath.
“Frankly, though, I'm really fucking hoping you say yes.
Because there's no one on earth I'd rather have as a brother-in-law.”
For years, I thought of Beau as a brother. Our relationship might be shaken, but I’m not going to be the one to spoil him and Brinley taking the next step.
“Fine.” I reach over and clap him on the shoulder. “You have my blessing.”
“Seriously?” Beau slumps on his barstool. “Fuck, that’s such a relief. I’ve been steeling myself for a ‘fuck you, traitor’ for days.”
“Nah. If we’re going to be family, we’ve got to get past it. Besides, if I messed this up for Brinley, I think she’d dissect me and sell my organs on the black market.”
“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Beau agrees gravely. “Lucky for you, I heard kidneys don’t go for as much as they used to.”
“Well, we’ve got to have a real drink to celebrate,” I declare. “Not that shit we just pounded.”
I duck down to the locked cabinet next to the register. After pulling out my keys, I select a Pappy Van Winkle 23 year I’ve been saving for a special occasion. Beau whistles when I pull it out.
“Dude,” he says, putting his hand over his chest. “I’m honored.”
I pour us both generous glasses, adding a little water to pull out the flavors. We both take a moment to inhale before we sip.
“That’s a beautiful whiskey,” Beau says reverently, making me grin.
“Do you have a ring yet?”
“I haven't bought one. Frankly, I wanted to ask you first because if you punched me in the face again, it would kind of put a damper on buying a diamond.”
“Well, that shows a serious lack of planning,” I say, crossing my arms. “How do you expect to earn my sister without a fucking ring? I might have to take my blessing back.”
“There was one I was thinking about,” he admits, pulling out his phone. “It’s vintage.”
He shows me a photo of an ornately carved antique-looking ring. The diamond is flanked by small pearl clusters. I might not know much about jewelry, but it’s Brinley to a T—romantic, unique, luxurious without being flashy.
“Buy it,” I declare. “Now, before someone else does, and before I change my mind and revoke my blessing.”
“Hey! You can’t just revoke a blessing.”
“Sure I can. I have the right to change my mind whenever I want.”
He groans. “You’re going to hold this over my head until we actually say ‘I do,’ aren’t you?”
“Yup, so you better act right. I expect a lot of free food, and if I were you, I’d let me win at poker. So, do you have a plan for this proposal?”
“I was thinking I'd propose at the Christmas party, actually. I think it would mean a lot to Brinley to have her friends there. She hated keeping our relationship secret for that long, so for the proposal to be public…”
He trails off, and my stomach twists a little. The major reason they kept their relationship secret for so long was that Beau was afraid of how I'd react. Granted, he should have known that I’d rather know than be lied to, but his heart was in the right place.
“I think it's perfect,” I say gently. “Order that ring. I know she’ll say yes.”
“Thanks man. By the way, I talked to Brinley about you,” Beau says. “I can’t believe you told her about the fake relationship and not me.”
The casual way he drops the news makes me jump, and I cough violently as my whiskey goes down the wrong pipe. Beau slaps me hard on the back until I’m breathing.
“She told you?” I croak when I finally catch my breath.
Beau snorts. “She didn't have to. I figured it out by myself.”
“You did?”
“Don't look so shocked. I do have a brain under all these muscles,” he quips. “It makes sense. You get a relationship to help clean up your reputation after the Peppermint PR nightmare, and Eden gets her insane brother off her back. Really smart—must have been her idea.”
I ignore the snide comment. “How did you figure it out? Did I do something wrong?”
“It was so obvious. Don't get me wrong, you're both surprisingly good actors, but I know you, Luke. You don’t do girlfriends.
There's no way that you just turned around and changed your mind for some girl you've known for a decade.
If you were really interested in Eden, you would've made a move forever ago.”
I groan. “Does that mean everyone knows?”
“I don't think so. That's all thanks to Eden, though. She’s pretty, ambitious, smart—it’s easy to see why you’d fall for her.” Beau leans forward and raises his brows. “So easy that I started thinking that’s exactly what happened.”
My mouth goes dry. “What do you mean?”
“Come on, man. I've seen how you look at her. There's nothing fake about that. Maybe it was fake when it started, but are you really gonna tell me that nothing's changed?”
I looked down at my whiskey to avoid his gaze. Beau knows me way too fucking well. I can't confirm or deny, because either way, he'll call me on the truth.
“Fine,” Beau groans. “I've got to go back to Terrace and review the specials for next month, so I'll just leave you with this. I know a little something about secret relationships. When I was doing it, I thought I was getting away with it. I wasn't.”
I don't look up while he puts down his glass and shrugs on his coat. I just keep staring at my glass for a long, long time.