Chapter 28
Whiskee
One Week Later
Early May
For the twomen in my life, I prepared a southern feast. They broke bread and tolerated each other over a meal of fried chicken, collard greens, macaroni and cheese, yams, and caramel cake for dessert. The meal was silent except when one was saying something to me, but they were at peace, and I accepted that.
When we were done eating, I gave them both a box of cigars and a bottle of The Macallan. As I looked from Carlos to Beethoven, I said, "Robert Carter gave me this whisky when I turned twenty-one. He told me to save it for a special occasion. I want the special occasion to be you two working together and finding a way to get along."
Carlos scoffed, gently pushing the bottle away. He knew the importance of it. He'd seen it on the bar in my room for years. He heard the speech our father gave me on my twenty-first birthday. How he reminded me of my influence as a woman. How unique I was.
Not just because of my name and appearance but because of my heart and character. How I would come in contact with men who would abuse and misuse me—not understand and appreciate or savor my value. How I would be found by a man who would treat me like the strongest and smoothest whisky… valuing me, cherishing me, savoring me, and treating me in such a unique and special way that I'd feel safe pouring into him and trusting he could pour into me. Beethoven was that person for me, and I prayed my brother would understand and respect that.
"He planned to kill me, sis. I'm here, in peace, because of you."
"If I wanted you dead, you would be," Beethoven replied, taking the whisky, and I held my breath.
"And what? You think I'ma ever trust you? Ever feel safe with you? Ever think your intentions with my sister are pure? How am I supposed to know you're not using her to get to me and my father's organization and when the marriage is done you won't hurt her or me?"
Beethoven's head tilted and he released a hard breath. "I proved my loyalty to you by offering you a solution. One that would allow you to not only have a purpose and be successful but keep your life too. If you don't shift into production, there's literally nothing me or Whiskee can do to save you. If I don't kill you for my father, someone else will."
Sitting on the coffee table in front of them, I looked from one to the other, almost pleading with Carlos with my eyes.
"You used to always say how much you loved working directly with the different strains," I said, "How creative you felt coming up with your own. The only reason Daddy made you stop was because he didn't have the resources then to put behind you or time to wait because his clientele was growing." I placed my hand on his knee. "That's no longer a problem, brother. You can be the head of production, create the strains you love, and flourish in your position. Your life won't be on the line, and I'll get to be with the man I love."
I hadn't admitted that to Beethoven before, so it didn't surprise me when his head whipped in my direction. Thick brows bunched up and his chiseled jaw clenched as he stared at the side of my face.
"You love him?" Carlos asked softly.
Nodding, I blinked back tears and swallowed my emotion.
"Yes," I choked out with a smile. "And I trust him. With me and with you. If Bay says switching positions will keep you safe and you'll no longer be a target, do it, Los. Please."
Our eyes remained locked for a while before Carlos looked over at Beethoven.
"Aight, I'll do it."
A shaky breath released from my lungs as I smiled and hung my head, silently thanking God. If his pride would have kept him from agreeing, I didn't think there would have been anything else I could do. I grabbed two glasses and poured them both two fingers of whisky before leaving and allowing them to talk.
While I waited for them to finish up, I looked at more buildings online for my salon. I was also considering renting a suite in a salon suite. If I did that, I wouldn't have to worry about as much as I would if I opened my own salon. But, if I did open my own salon, I could make space for other stylists to rent booths. I still had time to decide, especially since I would have to look in both Memphis and Rose Valley Hills. Regardless of which route I took, I was excited about doing what I loved on a more consistent basis.
I wasn't sure how much time had passed before Carlos came into my room and told me he was about to head out. I walked him to the door and gave him a hug, asking that he let me know when he made it home.
"You're never coming back, huh?" he asked with a knowing smile. "That's a lot of house to be in without you."
"Well… maybe… one day soon you'll have a wife and babies to fill it up with."
Carlos chuckled as he gave me a kiss on the forehead. "I doubt that'll happen any time soon, sis. I love you."
"I love you too."
After locking up behind him, I chuckled at the sight of Beethoven's naked frame sliding under my covers. The relaxed him with free time was such a stark difference compared to the busy body he was when we first met. I was glad he had time to not only rest but enjoy the fruit of his labor without having to be on call for Tim twenty-four seven.
"Doesn't take you long to get cozy these days," I teased, pulling my loose-fitting midi dress over my head.
"Never when I know I'm about to cuddle witchu. You've officially turned me into a sap."
That got a good laugh out of me as I climbed into bed and onto his chest.
"You're not a sap, baby. Far from that."
A brief beat of silence passed between us before he asked, "Did you mean what you said? That you loved me?"
"I did. I do."
Beethoven tilted my head by my chin. "I love you."
Lowering his lips to mine, Beethoven gave me a kiss that showed me just what his words had said. And there was absolutely no reason for me to doubt him. For the first time since Robert Carter, I felt completely safe with a man… and I prayed to God that safety would never change.