12. Reese
CHAPTER 12
Reese
The air still smelled like oak and citrus from the test last night. What did I miss?
Apparently quite a fucking lot. Blackmail for blackmail? What else were the women in town doing—plotting murder?
Sighing, I reviewed my whiteboard notes. Blackmail or not, business went on. But Blair? She’d been right there the whole time. This town prized dishonesty. Laurene and Blair disliked each other more than I thought.
All the years Blair and I had been friends, all the parties and business deals, and she hadn’t said a word.
Blair unexpectedly became a friend. When you’re the black sheep, the group of people who’ll stick by you is small, and most of them don’t exactly invite you in. Despite what others thought, she was loyal—and more than once she’d helped my business out with contacts she met in her modeling.
She was one of my few supporters after the accident. At least, I thought she was. And now? I wasn’t sure.
“Clean, modern, but not pretentious. Something that feels like a damn good time.” I mumbled, tapping my marker against my palm .
The board was empty where my new liquor name should be. Ideas swirled around it—tequila with lime and basil, whiskey with smoked honey, vodka with wildflowers. The taste was perfect, but now I had to sell it.
I quickly grabbed my phone and started recording a voice memo. “Target market: rooftop parties, music festivals, late-night bonfires. The kind of bottle you reach for to bring to a party.”
My phone buzzed, cutting me off midsentence. An email from the board. I knew what it was about without even opening it. The subject line: Production cost concerns.
I frowned, deleting it without even reading it. The same damn thing every week. I’d been making all the right decisions, or so I thought—risky, sure, but this was how you grew the brand. But the numbers weren’t lining up. The balance sheets were off. Production costs were high, but they weren’t supposed to be this high. I’d have to deal with it later, maybe after the wedding, when things calmed down.
When Dad found out, he would have a fucking fit, but he didn’t need a big reason to come down hard on me. It’s how it’s always been.
Under the chandelier, the table gleamed—all polished and cold as ice.
Dad sat at the head, and Conrad sat across from him, relaxed, cool. They looked like they belonged, like this was all perfectly natural. Me? I felt like an intruder.
Jennie cleared her throat, looking a little unsure. “I’m almost done with my MBA, and Truman Capitals offered me a job running their business. But I got them to team up with us instead—we’re opening a new resort in Vancouver.”
“Good,” Dad said quickly.
Jen slumped back, relieved, and gave me a “good luck” look.
I started to speak, but was cut off.
“Asia’s our next market,” Dad stated. “Conrad, you really knocked it out of the park with that Shanghai deal. ”
Conrad leaned back, a little smirk playing on his lips. “It’s a done deal, but did you really doubt me? I’m thinking Japan next? There’s a really niche market for whiskey there.”
Dad wasn’t just interested in the deal; he was interested in Conrad. It was always Conrad. Dad gave him his blessing like a king.
“So, Reese,” Dad said, looking over his glasses at me. “Now that you’ve finally come to your senses, Conrad told me he gave you something to do. What was it?”
“Yes, it’s ? —”
Conrad cut me off. “He’s working on revamping our whiskey line. Not too big of a deal if he screws up.”
They chuckled, and I narrowed my eyes on Conrad. Jennie gave me a sympathetic look.
Dad said, “What are your thoughts on the new product line? Anything we need to tweak before we finalize the plan?”
I wasn’t only doing whiskey. I was the one who’d spent sleepless nights brainstorming new branding concepts, researching the market, tweaking the formulas. Conrad minimized it, saying it was “no biggie.”
I swallowed, my jaw tight, and said, “I’ve—I’ve actually been working on a few new angles. The packaging needs to stand out more ? —”
“Yeah, sure, but honestly, Reese,” Conrad said, leaning back in his chair, hands folded casually in front of him, “you know the branding stuff doesn’t really matter until we finalize the price points. Don’t waste time on packaging details if we don’t even have the margins right and you can’t keep costs down.”
I made fists, stopping myself from snapping back.
“This is a money-making business, son.” Dad scowled at me. “What do you think pays for that motorcycle of yours?”
“Product design matters, Dad,” I said, my voice tense. “If the bottle looks like shit, the product won’t sell. That’s ? —”
Conrad just shook his head. “Language, Reese, Jesus. Dad is trying to school you on the right thing to do. Thank God I’m running this company because where would we be with you? Don’t worry, Dad, I’m keeping an eye on him. I won’t let him screw things up.”
My pulse roared in my ears, and I felt a heat rise in my face, but I bit back the words that screamed inside my head. Where would we be without me, Conrad? Where would we be if I hadn’t been the one to come up with half of this shit, the ideas you stole from me? That are making us money?
Dad was staring at Conrad now, nodding like he was the one with all the answers.
“See? Now this is the kind of vision we need. A good head on his shoulders. You could learn a thing or two from your brother.”
“Dad—”
“Your brother is in charge, you listen to him. You can only dream of being half the man he is.”
I was frozen. My throat felt tight, my heart pounding so hard it hurt.
“Enough for today,” Dad said, dismissing me with a wave of his hand. He didn’t even look up as he gathered his papers.
Conrad flashed me another one of those perfect smiles, the ones that made me feel like a fucking joke. “You’ll figure it out,” he said. “Just try not to fuck it up too much, okay?”
Conrad had stolen plenty from me over the years—ideas, credit, opportunities—but back then, I let it slide. That was just how it was with him. You fought him, or you accepted it. How stupid I’d been thinking that something would change between us. That Conrad would be my brother.
CEO of the company I never planned to run, cleaning up a mess I never made. Some days, it felt like justice. Other days, it felt like a curse.
Snatching my phone, I pulled up Blair’s contact, my thumb hovering over the call button. I wanted to yell at her and demand answers, but another part of me, the part that trusted her for years, hesitated.
I tossed my phone down and glanced at the lineup of sample bottles on my desk. I grabbed the lime-basil tequila and poured myself a shot. The aroma hit first—bright and fresh—and then the taste followed, smooth with a subtle kick of herbs.
“Damn,” I muttered, setting down the glass. “That’s it.”
Blair could explain herself if she wanted; she knew how to reach me.
I looked at my whiteboard; I needed to finalize the marketing.
Influencers? Nah, overplayed. Celebrities? Maybe, but it depends on if they’re a good fit. Someone real. Someone raw. Someone who could sell a dream without making it feel like a pitch.
A knock snapped me out of it.
“Yeah?”
The door creaked open, and my assistant peeked in. “Erik King, sir.”
Erik? What the hell was he doing here? I got nervous, and I really tried not to show it. Laurene’s brother didn’t just pop in unexpectedly. Especially not after the argument she and I had last night.
No doubt she’d told him everything.
“Send him in.”
My assistant nodded and disappeared, leaving the door ajar. A moment later, Erik walked in.
“King,” I said, leaning against my desk. “Laurene sent you to do the dirty work?”
Ignoring the jab, he stepped in. “This is where you think, huh? Didn’t know you did that.”
“I try to keep thinking down to once every quarter. Grab a drink. This one’s basil-lime tequila—smooth as hell.” I pointed to the sample bottles.
He walked over, hands in pockets. He eyed the liquor before pouring a shot, giving it a slow swirl before taking a sniff. “What if it sucks?”
“Then you can brag about surviving. ”
Erik flipped me the bird just before he slammed the shot. His expression didn’t change as he set the glass down, rolling his shoulders like it was just water.
“Not bad,” he admitted. “Still waiting on the kick, though.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “What do you need?”
Erik started walking around my office, looking at my notes. “You smoke?”
“Sure.”
Erik tossed me a cigar, sat down, and took out his lighter. He lit it, still eyeing my office while giving me the lighter. “How do you feel about this arranged marriage?”
“Is that what you want to discuss?”
I lit my cigar, inhaling its oaky flavor as Erik stared. “It wasn’t in my plans.”
“But you’re real comfortable, aren’t you? With Laurene, this whole marriage thing—no tension, no hesitation, not a lot of fighting on your part.”
I shot him a dirty look. “What are you getting at?”
“When we were kids, Laurene used to scrape her knees climbing the old maple tree in the backyard. Mama told her not to do it. Laurene’s stubborn, so she did it anyway, and Mama expected it. She told me, ‘You’re the oldest. You take care of your sisters, no matter what.’”
Erik leaned forward, taking the tequila bottle and pouring himself another shot. I didn’t bother hiding my shit-eating grin.
“One day she fell, busted her shit up quite nastily.” He shook his head as if reliving it. “I patched her up before Mama got home.”
“Heartwarming story,” I said, confused about where this was going.
“Laurene and I figured out our roles early. I was the heir, and she was the chess piece Mama could move to make deals. We had to be perfect—no room for mistakes. Mama called it responsibility, but all it really did was teach us how to endure pain. Laurene’s a fighter, just like her. It’s why they clash. It’s why she runs. But no matter what, she’s my sister. My job has always been to protect her, even from Mama, even from herself. And maybe that’s why I pulled you out of that gutter, Reese. If this was a perfect world, I wish Mama would have picked you for her first.”
I didn’t expect Erik King to be the one to drag me out of the fire. Hell, I didn’t expect anyone to.
But Erik? He saw something worth saving. I still don’t know why.
I edged the ashtray nearer for his cigar. I understood. Conrad was the heir, Jennie the spare, and I was an accident.
It’s not like we talk about it. Men like us, we fight, we drink, we endure. That’s how we say “I got you.” But I remember what he did. And I don’t forget my debts.
“Laurene was fighting too hard for you the other day. I get the arrangement, the business angle, but you didn’t seem uncomfortable. Not like I’d expect.”
I leaned back in my chair, trying to play it cool as Erik watched me closely. “We’ve both got our parts to play. Doesn’t matter how it looks.”
“But I know my sister. I’ve seen how she looks at you. How you look at her.”
My stomach twisted, but I didn’t flinch. Not outwardly, at least.
“What are you trying to ask me?”
“Were you and my sister in contact when she was in Paris?”
“My condolences,” a woman murmurs, her voice soft and distant as she passed me by.
I nodded, watching the casket descend. My mother’s cries pierced the air. She was holding on to Jennie for dear life. Dad wouldn’t even give me a glance. Near the back, Nina’s blotchy skin and red tear-filled eyes spoke volumes.
The hushed murmurs of prayers and the weight of silent judgments hung heavy in the air around me. I know it’s awful, but a twist part of me was glad it’s over. Like a pressure I didn’t realize I had is finally gone.
My big fight with Conrad was finally here—I’d been planning this since day one at the distillery. For years, he’d stolen my ideas, passed them off as his own, and I let it slide because fighting back wasn’t an option. Not until Laurene and I were ready.
I’d gathered proof, lined up allies on the board, and set the perfect trap. All we needed was for Conrad to take the bait. If we exposed him in front of the board, he’d have no way out. He’d lose their trust, and for the first time, our father would have to concede. I’d finally win.
I told him the whole story, and he didn’t even blink. His laughter was cold and cruel, like he’d been waiting for this moment.
They buried Conrad, and I felt every pound of that dirt. No more decisions, no more fights. Just…done.
“Reese.”
I looked and there was Noelle, a gentle pity in her eyes, but she looked remorseful. I looked past her at the space where Laurene should’ve been, where all the Kings should have sat, but instead a bereavement bouquet was sent in their place.
Noelle fidgeted, glancing around nervously. “Reese, I ? —”
“What?” I snapped, not bothering to hide my irritation.
“I… She’s gone.”
“What do you mean, gone?”
She looked down. “Yvonne kicked her out. Laurene’s at the airport, Reese. She’s leaving. For good.”
For a second, the words didn’t register. They couldn’t. Laurie—my Laurie? The one I’d been through hell and back with? The one I thought would be there, no matter what?
“No.” I shook her head. “She wouldn’t…she wouldn’t do that.”
But Noelle’s face was tight. She wasn’t lying. It was true. The raw, ugly truth that Laurene had made her decision, and I was standing here like a fool, blindsided.
“Why didn’t she tell me?”
Noelle swallowed. “I wanted you to know because…because I thought you’d want a chance to stop her. You both are meant to be to gether, and I know y’all didn’t do this on purpose. But I can’t change her mind.”
Laurene was leaving, and if I didn’t do something now, I’d lose her forever.
“Where is she going?”
“I’m already telling you too much that she’s leaving.”
I turned and walked away, then I started running—fast—my feet pounding on the dirt and gravel of the cemetery. I righted my bike, the engine roared as I twisted the throttle, ignoring all the stares.
“Reese!” Jennie yelled.
I sped, breaking every speed limit, the wind like a thousand tiny knives. My mind was consumed with Laurene. She claimed I was the only one for her. Yet, when things hit the fan, she betrayed me.
I gripped the handlebars tighter, teeth gritted, as memories flashed before my eyes. Late nights under the ink-black sky, her fingers tangled with mine, her breath warm against my ear as she whispered, “I love you.”
Damn it, I’d believed her. And I let myself love her.
The private airstrip came into view, its lights cutting through the evening fog.
I tore across the tarmac, skidding to a halt. I saw it—her plane, rolling forward, about to lift off. I jumped off my bike and ran.
Her face appeared in the window of the plane. She was staring right at me. For a flash, I hoped she’d stop the plane, come back for one more shot. To make things right.
But she didn’t.
She pulled down the shade, and then she was gone. Leaving me standing in the bright lights.
“No,” I said, quick and firm. “We weren’t.”
That was the truth. Noelle never told me where she went, and I never bothered to chase it down. The rumors floated around that Laurene went to Dubai, New York, or S?o Paulo, but the Kings didn’t talk. And Laurene disappeared from online without a trace.
Erik nodded and leaned back. “She’s lying to me. ”
My grip on the cigar tightened.
“She’s got something up her sleeve now. Something’s off with her. She’s not telling me anything straight anymore.” Erik tsked. “I don’t need to tell you Dante’s changing this town. I’m watching him and I’m not as scared as Mama, but we’re vulnerable right now. Your family is vulnerable.”
He leaned in.
“If you can figure out what she’s up to, tell me,” Erik said, his voice low and firm. “You protect Laurene, but she’s got something brewing—big, and I don’t know what it is. Whatever it is, it’s gonna shake things up, and not necessarily in a good way. She needs to stay focused on the company, not whatever rebellion she thinks she’s pulling against Mama.”
I swallowed, considering our predicament.
“Do you love her?” Erik demanded, but then cleared his voice at my shocked facial reaction. “Better yet, do you think you can love her?”
The question was loaded. I used to love the way Laurene looked at me when we were together. I loved how she felt against me riding on my bike. I loved the way she danced on the dance floor. I loved the way she commanded attention and respect. I loved that she chose me out of everybody in town.
But I also remembered the way things fell apart, the way I felt when she was with Conrad.
I spent years convincing myself she didn’t matter. And now? I’m one wrong move away from proving myself a liar.
“I—” I didn’t know what my feelings for her were now, but it couldn’t be love. Not yet.
“I can care about her,” I said instead. “I’ll protect her.”
Erik offered me his fist. I dapped it back, watching as he stood. He paused at the whiteboard before my office, tapping it.
“If you can help me figure this out, maybe we can be friends.” His flat tone made it hard to tell if he was serious. “Have some more of that weird drink you made. ”
I leaned back, raising an eyebrow. “Is this Erik King trying to bond with me? Guess hell froze over.”
“Hell’s still hot, trust me. Just don’t make me regret this.” He smirked, turning to my whiteboard. “Rebel Spirits?”
He gave me the deuces and left.
I just sat there, staring at the board, letting it all sink in. Finally, I stood, gathering my things and shoving them into my bag. I needed to get out of here.
Outside the glow of the streetlights cast an eerie halo around my motorcycle, its chrome gleaming in the dark. I mounted the bike and revved the engine, and the deep rumble vibrated through my body. How the fuck was I gonna survive this?
But then, a movement caught my eye. A dark sedan loomed near the entrance of my parking lot, parked at an awkward angle, half in the shadows, the other half positioned to see the gym’s entrance.
My heart skipped a beat, instinct kicking in.
I squinted, my pulse quickening as I tried to make out the figure inside. The tinted windows reflected nothing. I killed the engine and climbed off the bike, the silence around me amplifying the rustle of leaves and the distant hum of the town.
Think, Reese, think.
I stepped closer. Through the windshield, I saw a silhouette. The figure was hunched over the steering wheel, and I couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman.
I couldn’t afford to make a mistake. The shadow inside was still, too still. I kept walking toward the car. Then the unmistakable sound of an engine starting, breaking the silence like a shot.
The headlights flared on, spilling harsh white light across the pavement, blinding me.
Before I could react, the tires squealed, rubber-on-asphalt sound as the sedan shot forward. I flinched, stumbling back as it sped out of the lot, the taillights a streak of red against the night as the tires screeched.
But just before it disappeared, something caught my eye—a decal on the rear windshield. Faint, barely visible in the dark, but I knew I’d seen it before. A crest. A seal. My phone blared suddenly, a shrill sound that cut through the air. The shock of what just happened made me fumbled for it.
Laurene’s name flashed on the screen. I barely managed to speak before her voice shattered through the line.
“Reese. Please. Help me.”