Blake hit Send on his final email of the night—a response to a vendor in the UK. He checked his watch. It was well after seven and Savannah’s proposal hadn’t pinged his inbox.
She’d been determined to send it before she left for the night. That meant she was still in her office working on it.
Blake rubbed his unshaved chin. Perhaps she’d encountered a problem. After all, it was her first day. He should see if she needed help.
Blake packed up his laptop, locked his office door and headed down the hall. He almost kept walking. Almost pretended he didn’t hear the tapping of computer keys.
He groaned, knowing he was acting against his better judgment.
“Hey.” He gently knocked on Savannah’s open office door. “Still at it?”
“Finished just now.” Her earlier uneasiness appeared to be gone. “You didn’t wait for me, did you?” She seemed perturbed by the possibility.
“No. Just finished up myself. But since I’m here, I’ll walk you to your car.”
“I thought small towns like Magnolia Lake were idyllic bastions of safety and neighborliness.” Savannah barely contained a sarcastic grin as she grabbed her bags.
“Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t practice courtesy and good old-fashioned common sense.” He opened the door wider to let her out, then locked it behind them.
They made the trip to her small car in near silence. She stopped abruptly, just shy of her door.
“About earlier.” She turned to him, but her eyes didn’t meet his. “Sorry if I seemed rude. I wasn’t trying to be. I just...” She shook her head. “It wasn’t anything you did.”
“But it was something I said.” He hiked his computer bag higher on his shoulder when her eyes widened.
“It won’t happen again.”
“Good night, Savannah.” Blake opened her car door. He wouldn’t press, if she didn’t want to talk about it.
They weren’t lovers, and they needn’t be friends. As long as Savannah did her job well and played nice with others, everything would be just fine.
He stepped away from the car and she drove away.
Blake made his way back to his truck, thankful Savannah Carlisle had saved him from himself.
* * *
Savannah let herself into her apartment, glad the day was finally over.
When she got to the bedroom, she pulled a black leather journal from her nightstand. It held her notes about the Abbotts.
Savannah did a quick review of what she’d learned on the job today and jotted down everything she could remember.
Their processes. The grains used in their bourbon composition with a question mark and percentage sign by each one. The industry jargon she’d learned. Next, she outlined her impressions of each member of the Abbott family—starting with Blake.
Finished with the brain dump, she was starving and mentally exhausted. She scarfed down a frozen dinner while watching TV.
Her cell phone rang. Laney.
“Hey, sis.” Savannah smiled. “How’s my niece? And how is Granddad doing?”
“They’re both fine. How was your first day?”
“Long. I just got home.” Savannah shoved the last bite of processed macaroni and cheese into her mouth, then dumped the plastic tray into the recycle bin. “I made my proposal to the entire family—”
“You met all the Abbotts?”
“Everyone except their mother, Iris, and Joseph Abbott.” Savannah was both angry and relieved she hadn’t had the chance to look into the eyes of the coldhearted bastard who’d ruined her grandfather’s life.
“What were they like?”
Savannah sank onto the sofa. Blake’s dreamy eyes and kind smile danced in her head. The vision had come to her in her sleep more than once since they’d met.
In her dreams, they weren’t from opposing families. They’d been increasingly intimate, holding hands, embracing. And last night she’d awakened in a cold sweat after they’d shared a passionate kiss.
She’d struggled to drive those images from her head while spending a good portion of her day in his company.
“The Abbotts aren’t the ogres you expected, are they?” There was a hint of vindication in Laney’s question.
“No, but I met most of them for the first time today. They were trying to make a good first impression. After all, even a serial killer can have a charming facade.”
Laney didn’t acknowledge her logic. “Tell me about them, based on what you observed today. Not on what you thought you knew about them.”
Savannah removed her ponytail holder and shook her head. Her curly hair tumbled to her shoulders in loose waves from being pulled tight.
“It was hard to get a read on their dad—Duke. He’s personable, but all business.”
“What about the rest of them?”
“I met Blake, Parker, Max and Zora—the four siblings who run the distillery. There’s a fifth—Cole. He has his own construction company.”
“Why didn’t he go into the family business?”
“Don’t know.” Savannah had wondered, too.
“Quit stalling and tell me more.”
“Zora is sweet. Max is funny. Parker is kind of an asshole.”
“And what about Blake Abbott? This was your second encounter. Did your impression of him improve?”
“Yes.” She hated to admit that it was true. But Blake’s genuinely warm interactions with his employees during the tour made him appear to be an ideal boss.
“So now that you see you were wrong about the Abbotts, will you please let this thing go?”
So much for Laney being on board with the plan.
“The congeniality of Joseph Abbott’s grandchildren isn’t the issue here.”
“Savannah—”
“If they’re genuinely innocent in all of this...well, I’m sorry their grandfather was such a bastard. It isn’t like I plan to steal the company from under them the way he did from Granddad.”
“Then what exactly do you want, honey? What’s your grand plan here?”
“Our family deserves half the company. That’s what I want. And if they don’t want to share, they can buy us out. Plain and simple.”
Laney made a strangled sound of frustration. A sound she made whenever they discussed their grandfather’s claims regarding King’s Finest.
“I couldn’t do what you’re doing.” Laney’s voice was quiet. “Getting to know people. Having them come to like and trust you. Then turning on them.”
Savannah winced at the implication of her sister’s words. “I’m not ‘turning’ on them. I’m just standing up for my family. As any of them would for theirs. Besides, I’m not harming their business in any way.”
“You’re spying on them.”
“But I’m not taking that information to a competitor. I’m just gathering evidence to support Granddad’s ownership claim.” Savannah tamped down the defensiveness in her tone.
“And what about Blake?”
“What about him?”
“You like him. I can tell. What happens