Olivia looked at her. “What you need is an afternoon of self-care. You should go home and—”
“Thanks, Liv.” She didn’t mean to cut her off quite so abruptly, and she knew her sister had her own history of developing the skills to look after herself. “I know you’re concerned, but I’m okay. I did plenty of self-care last night. Well, at least, I did enough to get some clarity. And someone reminded me that I’ve got the skills and the smarts to navigate this company. So, from now on, that’s what I’m going to do. Jake, do you want to go first?”
Jake studied her carefully. “I just need to say this. I don’t like it—what Connor did. You might be older than me, but I’m still your brother and the only guy left standing in this family. Whatever you and he decide, I’ll be having words with him.”
Emerson sighed. “I really wish you wouldn’t, even though I appreciate your need to defend me. But I think this family has gone too long with too much left unsaid. I don’t need you to fix this for me, and I certainly don’t want you to ruin it for me, whichever way I decide.”
Jake nodded and, for a moment, she remembered the petulant child she’d had to coax to crawl. His solemn facial expression reminded her of his early efforts.
“Understood,” Jake said. “Right, so I had some thoughts about the different labels we currently produce, and here’s what I was thinking.”
Emerson listened to the plans, making notes, offering suggestions, challenging assumptions. He’d taken her suggestions and made them his own. When Liv took over, Emerson was thrilled to see that not only had Liv done the same, but she’d met with Jake outside the distillery to work on branding ideas together.
“One big component is to restart events in December,” Liv said. “Christmas means peak times for gathering. A wedding planner called to ask about availability on Christmas Eve for a discrete celebrity wedding and is bringing the couple over next week. I’m going to start the campaign from there. Parties, small weddings. We’ll need to rehire some staff because we let everyone go when it became clear the events hall wasn’t going to reopen. We can start light. Easy-to-make-ahead foods…charcuterie, pizzas, desserts. Let us organize your work event, that kind of thing. See if we can’t get some movement. I figured full staff Thursday through Saturday, part-time for the rest of the week. It’s still the first week in November; not everybody has made New Year’s plans yet. The tasting rooms can hold eighty people max, but for a black-tie event, we could sell the tickets for a hundred bucks. Minus costs, we’d still make a decent profit.”
“I love it,” Emerson said. “I love the plans. Let’s see what we can pull off before Christmas. Olivia, what about you when it comes to moving out?”
“I don’t want to rush looking or hold up the sale. I’m hoping I can crash at one of yours if the closing date ends up being before I have found a place.”
Emerson and Jake both nodded their heads. “Of course.”
“I gotta go,” Jake said, heading for the door. “I left a batch running, and I need to go check it to see if I need to cut the tail yet.”
“And what about you and Connor?” Liv asked, once Jake was gone.
Emerson blew out a breath. “I’ll keep you posted.”
Olivia stood and gathered her things. As she passed Emerson, Liv placed her hand on her shoulder. “You two are so good together. I’m probably being some kind of naive Pollyanna, and I understand you’re hurt. But in some ways, it just proves how similar you are.”
Emerson looked up at her sister. “How so?”
“Because you were both trying to handle everything on your own, when what you should have done is allow others to help.”
The words struck her like a blow. Had they really been that similar in their approaches? She had been trying to protect her siblings, Connor had tried to protect her. At the end of the day, when it mattered, he’d tried to dissuade his father.
But what future did they have if his father hated her on sight?
Connor knew he was supposed to stay away from the building, but it was no use.
He’d swum, he’d worked out, and he’d ran. He’d drunk whiskey with Charles because the idea of drinking gin or drinking alone was just too much. Charles had listened, called him a fucking bell-end, then had lent his ear and wisdom.
As a result, Connor knew he had to sort himself out before he could fix things with Emerson.
And now that he knew the truth of what was in his own heart, he needed to speak to his father. Without his pass, he couldn’t just walk inside. But thankfully, the security guards knew him, and, because his father hadn’t taken any action beyond retaining Connor’s card, they manually let him through the barriers to the elevators.
On the way to his father’s office, he ran through all the things he needed to say. His father wasn’t going to be pleased to see him but that was the very least of his problems. He needed to make sure that his uncle wasn’t there because he had some home truths to deliver.
That was the reason he was there so early. His uncle never hit the office before nine.
Connor shook his hands, something he did routinely before he dove into the water. He visualized the nerves he carried flying from his fingertips like water droplets, allowing his fingers to fill instead with adrenaline that would power him through the race.
Somehow, this meeting felt more important, more vital.
As he rounded the corner, he saw