Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

Gabe

I 'm admittedly a workaholic, spending upward of eighty to ninety hours a week devoted to Mardraggon Enterprises. When our family settled in the Kentucky area, a fortuitous marriage with a Scots woman who had a wealth of knowledge about distilling techniques from her homeland forged our family's destiny. Corn was abundant and grapevines were not, so bourbon was where we focused our efforts. Our family was one of the pioneers to use charred oak barrels to age the liquor, which became a defining characteristic of bourbon, and once we refined the process in the nineteenth century—particularly how to bottle it to preserve its quality and authenticity—Mardraggon Spirits Company was formed.

The company grew during the Civil War and we became known for our quality bourbon. We almost went under during Prohibition, the Blackburns doing all they could through political connections to block our ability to obtain medicinal licenses, but we persevered. Our case of Mardraggon Shadow Reserve Barrel was produced in only the second year of Prohibition, another reason it's so valuable.

Post Prohibition, we were among the first distilleries to modernize. We experimented with different aging and production techniques and in 1964 Congress recognized bourbon as a "distinctive product of the United States." That meant it was time for us to go global.

Our family's winery in Saint-émilion, while lucrative and part of our European legacy, became more of a hobby business, which was the main reason Alaine was allowed free rein with it. By the nineties, Mardraggon Spirits Company had generated billions in revenue and was renamed Mardraggon Enterprises, something my father felt spoke more to our worldwide impact. It was vain, in my opinion.

Regardless, I'm at the helm now and my goal is to make us even bigger and better in the years to come. It's because of our legacy steeped in history that I'm so passionate about my work. I couldn't let Lionel Mardraggon bring it all down and I have zero regrets about ousting him from the board. I've not lost a wink of sleep over cutting him out of my life. What he did to Sylvie was unforgivable and I'll do whatever is necessary to make sure he never has a say in Mardraggon Enterprises ever again.

It's with the knowledge that my work is stressful and our family is facing some very dark days that the hug Sylvie bestows upon me now fills me in ways I didn't know I needed.

"When can we see each other again?" she asks me.

My eyes lift to Kat standing at the door. She's going to drive Sylvie up to the main house. I offered to do it, but Kat nixed the idea and I'm guessing it's because no one in that family really wants to see me. I've received very little credit for turning my own father in but I'm not surprised. I'm a Mardraggon and should be hated by the Blackburns.

It's that simple.

Kat smiles at Sylvie. "Talk to your dad about the next time you can see your uncle. I'm sure he'll be glad to propose a schedule."

"Did this work for you?" I ask, my eyes locked on Kat. It's been hard to see her here in this apartment, the place we used to meet secretly all those years ago. "Because we can make a standing meeting for us to go over winery plans after I see Sylvie. This time every week is good for me."

Kat's expression is inscrutable. "How about we go through the stuff you brought over tonight so I can get an idea of how much of my involvement will be necessary?"

A not-so-subtle way for her to say she's not sure she wants to spend any length of time around me, either dealing with the winery business or chaperoning my visits with Sylvie. I don't push her on it, though, merely inclining my head.

"Wait here. I'll be back in five minutes. Restroom is through that door…"

Her voice trails off as she realizes she doesn't need to tell me which door leads to the toilet and which one is for her bedroom. I know the exact layout of this little abode, although it looks a lot different than it did eight years ago. Kat has clearly put her touches on it throughout.

Sylvie gives me another hug, thanks me again for the presents, and then they're dashing out the door in their raincoats. When I'm alone, I take my time and walk around the place. Nothing is recognizable from when we snuck in here to be together. I shamelessly open her bedroom door, take in the black wrought iron bed and lacy duvet cover. Strong and feminine, exactly how I'd describe Kat.

I note the hordes of framed pictures—on shelves, tables, walls. All family and friends, Kat always smiling big for the camera. I used to take pictures of her all the time on my phone and they're still there, but in a hidden folder I don't ever look at. I didn't move them there right after we broke up, pulling them up each night and scrolling through them like a lovesick fool. Kat smiling coyly, laughing with gusto, naked on white sheets, slurping spaghetti, lying on a blanket outside, staring up at the trees.

Exiting her room, I head back into the living area. I walk the perimeter, noting the eclectic mix of décor. An art deco floor lamp with a thin, fluted glass shade casting multicolored sparkles, a vibrant Moroccan rug with red and blue geometric patterns, an antique globe with a weathered brass frame and an intricately carved wooden dragon that sits perched on the edge of a bookshelf. All items that have nothing to do with each other and yet seem to all go together somehow. It's a room that would hurt my orderly, conservative brain, yet it's comfortable and warm.

It's a bit torturous looking at something that represents what I couldn't have, knowing that the reason I couldn't have it was because I made the choice to walk away. Kat called me a coward and she might be right, but it doesn't mean I didn't care for her. I wanted us to work and I would have eventually figured out how to make our families okay with it, but she wanted too much, too fast. She never gave me the chance to get it right.

Two weeks after Derek accosted Kat and I'd made the sickening decision to not stick up for her and instead acted cruelly toward her, I was still mired in guilt and the stifling oppression that I'd made a horrible mistake. I hadn't wanted to go but my fraternity brothers pushed me into attending the last home football game of the season. UK is known for its basketball but football was always my sport, so it's not like I wouldn't have fun. I was trying to move on with my life, convinced things would eventually get better.

That I'd stop missing Kat.

It was at the end of the half and my buddies and I were walking back to our seats. We'd tailgated before the game and even though I was only nineteen, I never had a problem purchasing beer or liquor. Partying was the college way of life and I partook.

I wasn't so drunk though that I didn't see Kat standing in line at one of the concession stands. She was beautiful in jeans, furry boots and a white puffy coat with a blue and white UK scarf. Her black hair was loose and her green eyes sparkled with humor as she laughed at… something the guy next to her said.

A man with his arm around her waist. He was tall, athletic and wore glasses that didn't make him look nerdy but somehow like a supermodel, accentuating his good looks. They were a beautiful couple and I was immediately enraged that it took her only two weeks to move on when I'd been wallowing in self-condemnation.

I didn't hesitate. I had enough beer in me to be bold. I told my friends I'd meet them back at the seats and I walked her way.

Her date saw me first and must have understood my intention to talk to her by the expression on my face. He nodded at me and Kat turned, her cheerful smile sliding off when she saw me.

My chest was tight, my pulse hammering as I came to stand beside her in line. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

She looked at me like I was crazy. "Um… watching the football game."

"Can we talk?" I blurted, not daring to look at the man beside her whose arm dropped from her waist.

Kat didn't immediately concede, instead turning to her date. "I'm sorry, Daniel. Do you mind?"

His smile was easy, teeth gleaming and perfectly straight. "Not at all. What do you want?"

"Just a hot dog and a Coke," she replied, going to her tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek. I couldn't help but think that was to rub it in, but I gritted my teeth and led her away from the line and the crowd to an empty spot on a cinder block wall near some garbage cans.

I turn to face her, ready to fight. "That didn't take you long."

Kat stared at me impassively before glancing over her shoulder. When she brought her attention back to me, it was with sharp eyes and a stubborn set to her chin. "You have no right to even care that I'm seeing someone. You gave up that right when you couldn't be bothered to defend me."

"You didn't give me a chance," I say with frustration. "Just an ultimatum."

"I'd been begging you for months to tell our families. You were never going to do it."

"I would have if—"

"No," she said, shaking her head furiously so that her black hair tumbled over her shoulders. "Your loyalty is to your family and I can respect that. But there comes a time when you have to stand up for the things you want, and let's be honest, Gabe… you never would've had the spine for it."

She walked away, the noise of the crowd around us fading as I absorbed the gut punch of truth she'd just leveled. I watched her go and a part of me broke as I realized I'd lost something precious, all for the sake of family loyalty.

If only I had the same courage then that I have now. There was never a moment I pondered the choice to turn my father in. Every bit of the loyalty that kept me and Kat apart all those years ago splintered, pulverized, and blew away by my father's actions. He is as good as dead to me and here I am, having more regret than ever over my inaction with Kat.

But that's the past and my future is all kinds of fucked up. Ruminating over what might have been serves no purpose and is nothing but a distraction. I've got to stay focused on Mardraggon Enterprises, especially since I am now in charge of it all.

The door to Kat's apartment opens and she bustles in, shaking off droplets from her hair. She undoes her thin rain jacket and tosses it over a wall hook.

"Are you hungry?" she asks, not in a warm, inviting way but brusquely, to remind me we're still on business time. She moves into the kitchen as I stand from the couch. From the fridge she pulls two bowls and sets them on the small counter that separates the kitchen from the living area.

I lean over as she removes plastic wrap and see chicken salad and fruit. "Looks great."

"Let's talk about the winery and eat at the same time. Sooner we get that done, the sooner you can be on your way."

It rankles me that she can go from being kind enough to offer her apartment for me to meet Sylvie to wanting to kick me out. "We don't have to eat," I say, moving over to my briefcase to grab the documents I brought. "That will save time."

"I went to the trouble to make this, the least you could do is eat," she snaps.

I hold up my hands in surrender, one holding the expansion proposal. "Fine. We'll eat."

"What do you want to drink?" she asks.

"Got any Mardraggon?" I ask, grinning at her slyly.

"Gross. I've got water or Diet Coke."

"Water," I reply, dropping the proposal on the small kitchen table. "Where's the silverware?"

"Drawer to the right of the stove."

We work in silence as we heap chicken salad and fruit onto our plates. At the small table, the proposal is ignored as we eat in silence for a few minutes.

"This is really good," I say in compliment to the chef.

She doesn't reply, merely pulling a strawberry off her fork and into her mouth. That incredibly perfect mouth that I know very well.

I look down at my plate and concentrate on the food.

"The locket you gave Sylvie." I look up to find Kat staring at me intently. "What was on the inside?"

"A picture of her and Alaine taken last year. Alaine was still vibrant and healthy looking. I wanted her to remember her mom in the good days."

It seems a bitter pill to swallow but Kat admits, "That was very thoughtful."

I shrug, stabbing a chunk of chicken. "I love her."

"I know," she replies quietly, then coughs to clear her throat. Her eyes dart down to the proposal. "I assume you're going to summarize that for me."

Nodding, I wipe my mouth with a napkin. Taking the sheaf of documents, I flip it open. "Pages one through five provide an overview of how the winery operates in very simplified form, just to get you up to speed." I turn another page. "On page six, I've got bullet points listing out a variety of things we need to focus on, like some investment opportunities and a new marketing plan, but I want to focus you on page thirteen… expanded distribution."

"Why is that the most important?" Kat asks.

"Because that was what Alaine was working on when she got sick. I want to continue something that was important to her."

Kat stares at me a moment, then nods. "What does expanded distribution mean specifically?"

"Moving deeper into the US market, which we have a small slice of but nothing compared to the European market. We'd have to establish relationships with distributors who specialize in imported wines. There are plenty of small- to medium-sized companies looking for unique offerings to differentiate themselves in a competitive market."

"And how is that done?"

"A seed investment into hiring more staff as well as a specialty company to create targeted marketing campaigns."

Kat has another question, but she seems unsure of how to ask and instead spins her fork in her food. I feel the need to provide her assurances. "You're an expert in the business of horses. I'd have a billion questions if I tried to move into that industry. I expect you're going to have a ton of questions for me so don't hesitate to ask them. If you're to be the go-between for me and Ethan, you need to understand all of this, so ask away."

After taking a sip of water, Kat says, "Okay… fine. What type of money will it take to do this, and what type of money will be generated?"

My smile widens and I point at her, stabbing my finger in the air. "Those are excellent questions. The two most important ones you could ask. I've got it all laid out here on page twenty-seven."

I flip to the appropriate place and scoot my chair around so I can sit closer to her. She pushes her plate back and I put the five-year progression chart before her, showing the initial investment and the expected return over that period.

She studies it thoughtfully before asking, "What other considerations are there? More customers means the need for more wine."

Something inside my chest expands and I easily identify it as pride in Kat. I always knew she was smart as hell, but she's proving that she's the right person for Ethan to have put on this. "Of course, we'll have to increase our production gradually. There's additional acreage we already own with mature vines. It means investing in more barrels, maybe even new technology for the bottling line. We need to ensure that our quality doesn't suffer as we scale up."

For the next two hours, Kat and I discuss the expansion plan and go page by page through the entire proposal. We eat as we talk, and I take a second helping. There's no animosity in the words between us, Kat intently focused on what I'm guessing is now a challenge she wants to conquer.

Standing from the table, Kat stretches with her hands raised far above her head and arches her back. Her T-shirt rides up, exposing barely an inch of skin on her stomach, but the material pulls tight over her breasts. Head tipped back and eyes closed, she can't see me taking visual advantage as my gaze roams over her. She might be an enemy now, but she was absolutely my sexiest mistake.

As her arms drop, I gather up the empty plates that were long ago forgotten after we'd finished eating. I take them to the sink and run water over them, but I don't see a dishwasher, so I just leave them there. Kat follows behind, empty glasses in hand.

"What about the other stuff?" she asks.

"We need to go over it because the new investment opportunities go hand in hand with the expansion plans but it's getting late. I've got an early appointment and you get up earlier than I do."

Kat's eyes flare with surprise.

"What?" I ask with a grin, slightly amused. "I remember you talking about how early your days started when you did training on our summer breaks."

Kat is not amused at the reminder of our time together. Instead, she brushes past me to the door. "Yeah… it's late and we can talk about this stuff some other time."

I follow her, flipping through my calendar on my phone. "How about Thursday at eleven a.m. at my office in Frankfort?"

When Kat opens the door, I see the rain has stopped. She turns to me, hands on her hips. "That won't work for me. You see, I actually work very hard at my job, sunup to sundown."

"As do I," I point out. "I just happen to wear a suit and you wear grubby clothes, but that doesn't make you a harder worker or have less time than me."

She shrugs. "I can meet in the evenings, after eight, since I usually eat dinner with my family."

"Are you being obstinate just to be obstinate?" I ask, genuinely curious, slightly annoyed and again… a little amused.

Kat snorts and I swear I see her lips twitch in what threatens to break into a smile, but she smothers it. "Like I said, any time after eight p.m." She then considers something else. "Except tomorrow. Not free at all."

I nod in understanding. "The Spirits and Saddles Gala?"

It's a charity event where all the bourbon distilleries in the area—and there are a lot—pair up with the horse industry to raise money. It's held at the state fairgrounds in Louisville and there are loads of activities throughout the day but most significantly, bourbon-tasting tents and equine demonstrations inside the indoor arena. Typically, the distilleries each pair up with a farm—usually thoroughbred breeders, but there's a large saddlebred community too—and work together to compete for the most money raised.

She nods. "We're paired up with Bluegrass Barrel Company."

"Hmm," I murmur.

Mardraggon Enterprises is joining with Crescent Meadow, which is the largest horse farm in Kentucky. They breed, train and sell thoroughbreds and have a storied history in the racing community. They've produced numerous successful racehorses that sell for millions of dollars.

Obviously, the best bourbon manufacturer got paired with the best horse farm, but I keep that opinion to myself. I'm not in the mood to have the Hell Kat come out and slice me up with that sharp tongue of hers.

"Let me guess," she drawls, a condescending tone in her voice. "You're paired with Crescent Meadow."

"I'm not sure," I say vaguely, pocketing my phone and pulling out my keys. "Not my bailiwick."

Which is absolutely true. The bailiwick part, although I do know about Crescent Meadows.

My parents typically handled all the social events that Mardraggon Enterprises was involved in. However, times have changed and no one wants to see Lionel Mardraggon at a fundraising function. The board of directors made it clear I need to be in attendance this year.

"Well, figure a time you can meet in the evening again," Kat says as she gestures toward the doorway, a nonverbal cue she really wants me to go.

I step over the threshold and as she starts to shut the door, I put my hand on it to halt her. "Can I see Sylvie when I come back?"

Kat's expression softens slightly. "Yeah… if she's not busy with something else."

"How about day after tomorrow? I'll rearrange my schedule so I can come back, same time."

"Not before eight," she reminds me. "I've still got work to do and I'll be doing lessons or training up until at least six. I cut lessons short today to accommodate you but I can't do that all the time."

"I'll come over to the barn then," I suggest. "Sylvie and I can hang out there under your watchful eye."

"I'll be watching the horses," she replies blandly. "But let me check with Ethan and find out what Sylvie's schedule is day after tomorrow and I'll let you know."

Inclining my head, I hope she hears how grateful I am. No matter what, getting to see Sylvie is paramount. "Thank you. And thanks for dinner too."

"That won't happen again," she asserts with her chin lifted.

Chuckling, I turn away from Kat and trot down the stairs. No, I don't imagine she will invite me to dine with her anytime soon. Despite the moments of levity tonight and our ability to keep things civil as we discussed business, I don't ever forget that she hates my guts and will never forgive me for what I did.