Lush (The King Cousins Book 1) (The King Brothers 4)

by K. D. Elizabeth

  “That makes no sense.”

  He shrugs again. “Sometimes, you lose out on an opportunity, Jude. It happens. Even to me.”

  “But you could still fix it. You could still—”

  “The discussion is over,” he snaps. “I won’t be partnering with Old Abe’s. That is final. Keep asking me, and you and I are going to have a problem. I’m already disappointed in how unprofessional you’ve been with King from the start. Let’s not go down this road. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “Yes, sir,” I say quietly. He doesn’t need to spell the threat out to me. I can get a clue. For whatever reason, the threat he made to me—that he’d fire me if he found out I was sleeping with Nate—was rendered moot the moment he decided not to extend a deal at all. And I don’t know why, but I’m going to shut my mouth about it until I figure it out—or until he decides to fire me after all.

  If only I had that promotion. Then I could sign Old Abe’s myself, and this time, Nate wouldn’t have to worry about getting a fair deal. But the likelihood of getting that promotion dwindles by the minute. Now I’m surprised if I’ll ever get it. I’m thankful to still have my job.

  We lapse into silence. I pretend to do work, not that I have much stomach for it. Northwood, thankfully, doesn’t seem interested in talking, which is for the best. I don’t think I could bring myself to be respectful to him right now.

  What is Nathan doing? Has Noah found out? Is he, even now, plotting how to ruin me? Oh my God, I haven’t even thought about Noah yet. If Nate tells him that he thinks I’m to blame for telling Northwood about the loan, there is nothing stopping Noah from suing us into oblivion. Question is, will he do it?

  That goes without saying.

  How I hope Nathan isn’t too upset. I don’t see how he couldn’t be, but I hope that his brothers have banded together for him right now and are giving him the support he needs. Hopefully Noah can get Lipton to back off. He certainly excels in threats. I don’t see why the banker would fare any differently.

  If Noah can manage that and I can somehow get the promotion, then we can still fix this. Sure, Nate’s never going to want to see my face again, but at least he’ll still have his company. And he’ll have a deal. Something good will have come out of this. Then I can walk away from this without feeling like I’ve ruined everything.

  Because even if I do fix this for him, the look on Nate’s face that last time will never leave me. It’ll echo, over and over in my memory, popping up whenever I least expect it. It sickens me that all we shared could be wiped out so easily. Everything we admitted to each other, all the secrets and vulnerabilities, gone. Like it never even existed.

  By the time we land, I have a killer migraine. When I turn my phone off airplane mode and immediately get a call from my father, the migraine grows worse.

  I debate not answering. On the best day, talking with him is a nightmare. Today, with Northwood staring at my back, I truly have no desire to deal with one of my parents.

  But I also know he’ll call again. And if I still don’t answer, he’ll leave me a nasty message and the next time I have to talk to him will be intolerable.

  Sighing, I take the call. “Father.”

  “Jude. I’ve called twice now.”

  Great. “I’ve just landed.”

  “I was not aware you were out of the state.”

  Yeah, because I never told you.

  “I’ve been in Georgia, father.”

  “What in God’s name were you doing there? How long were you gone?”

  “About a month.”

  “You weren’t in one of those backwards towns in the middle of nowhere, were you? I’ve heard the people can be quite horrid.”

  Revulsion courses through me. What a nasty person, my father is. I’ve been ashamed to be his daughter many times. This one stings more than most.

  “The people I met were quite lovely, actually.”

  “I see. And were you ever planning to tell your mother and me you would be out of town? We might have had a function we wanted you to attend.”

  “I didn’t believe you would find my absence to be of note,” I say, struggling to keep my voice level as I grab my suitcase and head for the line of taxis. Northwood would have to kidnap me before I’d ever consent to accepting a ride home from him right now.

  “I see. Well, I suppose you were right. We didn’t miss you.”

  “That’s a shame,” I say, knowing my father will never detect the hint of sarcasm in my tone. He’s informed me on numerous occasions that sarcasm is for weak-minded individuals. And no daughter of his would ever be weak-minded.

  “In any case,” he continues like I haven’t spoken, “your mother and I are attending a benefit next weekend for the education of parentless children in Portland. Your mother has been on the board of the charity for some time now. We’d like you to attend. Your mother has informed me to tell you that you’ll need to wear the navy gown.”

  This is not a request, but an order. They only call me when they need me to show up somewhere and make them look good.

  “Yes, I imagine it would be important to showcase your successful daughter at an event for helping kids not be dumb.”

  “Colloquialism is not becoming of you, Jude. Only the masses speak informally.”

  “Yes, of course. How could I have forgotten?” I say. Then, just to get him off the line, “I’ll note my schedule tomorrow and determine if I am available.”

  “Excellent. We’ll see you this weekend.”

  “Have a wonderful evening, Father.”

  “You as well.”

  I hang up without another word. What an asshole. If I could only bring myself to hate the man, my life would be much easier. But the fact remains that he and my mother are all the family I have in this world. I have never been able to write them out of my life.

  Just yesterday I lived in a town where people actually care for each other. How depressing, the difference between Nathan’s family and mine. He doesn’t have to worry about his brothers doing something for him out of a sense of duty. If he needs them, they’ll help. That’s what they’ll always do for each other. So even if he’s hurting now, he has people to lean on and encourage him to start again. To build back from the bottom if necessary.

  If only I were so lucky.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Nathan

  One day my brothers kidnap me. Well, they don’t kidnap me so much as they hold me hostage in my own bar. While the rest of the town carries on as usual for a Friday night, my brothers haul me out from behind the counter and frogmarch me to the backroom, ignoring my protests the entire time.

  “Guys, this is not necessary.”

  Jackson snorts. “Um, yeah, dude. It is.”

  “Seriously, I’m—”

  “As your physician, it is my expert medical opinion that you are, in fact, not fine at all,” adds Griffin.

  Axel hauls one of the chairs out from the poker table and literally throws me onto it. I land with a thud, banging my elbow against the table.

  “Did you really have to do that, or are you just incapable of not being a dick?” I snap.

  Axel jabs a finger in my face. “We’re done watching you mope around. It’s time to fix your shit.”

  “Oh, fuck off. You’re imagining—”

  Noah drops down into the seat next to me. “Shut up, Nathan. We’re going to play some poker. I’ll even let you win the first round.”

  “Hey, that’s not fair,” groans Jackson, “you promised you’d give all of us the opportunity to win.”

  Noah rolls his eyes. “So I did. I also said I’d let my twin win the first hand.”

  “Wow, guys. This is so helpful,” I say. “Seriously, I feel much better now. So why don’t y’all scram?”

  “We’re not going anywhere,” says Griffin.

  “The bar needs—”

  “We already texted one of your relief bartenders,” says Noah. “He’ll be here soon. Now, do you have any mo
re excuses, or shall we play?”

  Finally relenting, I motion for him to deal me in and pour us all glasses of Old Abe’s. We play four hands. I manage to win two of them before I can’t take it anymore.

  “What is this about? I know y’all have better things to do right now,” I say.

  “We thought we’d give you moral support,” says Griffin.

  “Yeah, man,” says Axel. “It’s rough.”

  Jackson shrugs. “We just heard. Thought you’d want company.”

  “Just heard what?” I ask.

  They pause. As one, Axel, Jackson, and Griffin look to Noah, whose shoulders stiffen.

  “You haven’t heard?” he asks quietly.

  No. Whatever the hell they’re tiptoeing around, I’m clueless about it. For the last week, I’ve wandered around in a fog, alternating between hurt, anger, and futility. The last thing I’ve been doing is following any news.

  Even worse, I can’t decide what part Jude ultimately played in it. On a near hourly basis, I swing from being convinced she played me, to swearing she’d never do such a thing. I remember her devastated face as she swore she never told Northwood about the loan, and I figure there’s no way she told him.

  But then I remember that I told no one else at NBI about it, and she kept asking about my supply. So could she be entirely innocent? How could she not have known? It’s exhausting. I just want the whole thing to be over. But she keeps calling. And calling. I’ve refused all her calls. For that matter, I’ve refused all calls, period.

  And then there’s the bullshit with the bank. The day after the disastrous meeting, I called him up to demand an answer to his shitty attestation. I got his assistant, who nervously told me she would have him call me back. But it’s been a week, and still no response. There might as well be a sword dangling over my head. When the hell is he going to get back to me?

  And now there’s something else.

  “Just tell me,” I say quietly.

  Noah turns to me, giving me his full, solemn attention. Without a word, he pulls his phone out of his pocket, taps the screen a few times, and then hands it to me. It’s NBI’s website, and on the home page is a special announcement that starting next year, the company will be selling peach-flavored bourbon.

  Under a new subsidiary led by Jude Shaw.

  My fingers grip the phone so hard it’s a wonder the screen doesn’t crack. That bitch. I’ve never called a woman that in my entire life, but in this instance, the word fits. I’ve never felt such rage in my entire life. Now I understand how people commit crimes of passion. If my brothers weren’t here, I might go postal myself. More than anything, I want to chuck this phone at the wall, yell at some poor soul since Jude isn’t here for me to yell at herself.

  But more than anything, I want to cry.

  “They just announced it a few hours ago,” Griffin says gently.

  “I should have stopped this, Nate. Should have seen it,” Noah mutters. “So what are you going to do?”

  My gaze drops to the table, their stares drilling into me as they wait for me to lose it. I can’t blame them. This is the final betrayal, isn’t it? The final knife slid between the ribs. Noah said he thought he should have foreseen this, but shouldn’t it have been me who realized their real plan? After all, I was the one who spent weeks inside her. Somehow I should have figured out that they were going to steal my fucking product.

  No, that she would steal my product.

  I am so fucking dumb.

  All the fight leaves me. “Fuck if I know,” I say dully, tossing Noah’s phone back to him.

  He cocks an eyebrow in skepticism. “Really. You don’t know? Seems like there’s only one option to me.”

  “Yeah?” I snap. “And what might that be? Please enlighten me as to what this single, obvious option is.”

  “Don’t get cute. What other option is there? You’ll go ahead with your label, of course.”

  I scoff. “It’s not that simple.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  I slam my hand down on the table. Noah doesn’t flinch, but the others do, then exchange a look. Ignoring them, I say, “NBI is a multi-billion-dollar company that’s just publicly announced their new peach bourbon. They announced first, they’ve got more money at their disposal than I could ever dream of having, and I’ll bet my last dollar that they’ll beat me to market using their extended distribution channel. What am I going to do, shoot for second place?”

  “They still have to perfect their recipe and age it,” says Griffin. “That’s going to take a couple of years at least. And we all know how long it’s taken you to get your label right. Don’t you think they’re going to need some time to create it themselves? But you have all those barrels in the inner room that you showed me. All you have to do is bottle. I think you’ll beat them.”

  “Ah, so he showed you them?” says Noah.

  “I knew you broke in there!” I cry.

  Axel looks up from his cards. “What barrels?”

  “Wait, are you saying there’s a whole bunch more of your swill? Then why the hell are you so stingy with it then? The betrayal. You know I’m always asking for more!” Jackson complains.

  “Perhaps Nate never told you because you blow through whatever he gives you like a complete lush,” Noah says dryly.

  Jackson shakes a finger at him. “Hey. I am a connoisseur. I know quality when I see it. Sue me.”

  “Anyway,” I say, rolling my eyes, “Their website says right on it that they’re shipping next year. And now that Jude knows precisely how I make the damn stuff, it isn’t going to be long before they’re up and running.”

  “I’m sure Northwood’s factored that into his calculations. He seems the sort,” says Noah.

  “Yeah,” I say miserably, “I’m sure he planned on Jude reverse-engineering it herself all along. Why else send her here for so long?”

  Noah studies me thoughtfully. “So you really think she was in on it, then?”

  I avoid his gaze. Even with the proof staring me in the face, I can’t quite believe she stayed here all those weeks just to steal my product. Like she even told me, she could never fake all the time we spent together.

  But how dumb am I to keep thinking she couldn’t be involved? Look where it got me: without a deal and with my whole concept stolen. It’s past time I started being less trusting, like Noah has tried to tell me this whole time.

  Besides, it’s easier to hold onto my rage, my conviction that she’s at fault for this. If she’s not, then I’ll be forced to confront the fact that she’s as much the victim in this as I am—and there’s not a thing I can do about that.

  “She hasn’t tried to contact you?” asks Griffin.

  I shrug, feeling their eyes on me.

  “Well?” prods Jackson.

  Shrugging again, I say, “She’s called a couple times.”

  More like at least twice a day, every day since she left. But I’m not going to tell any of them she’s tried that many times. Especially now that I know she stole my product.

  “And what did she say?” says Noah.

  They wait in silence, but when it becomes clear I’m not going to respond, they groan in unison.

  Jackson throws his hands in the air. “Y’all really aren’t that dumb, right?”

  “I didn’t want to hear her excuses!” I say defensively.

  “Nathan King, I am very disappointed in you,” says Griffin in the same tone a parent would use to scold a child.

  Axel grunts, running a hand through his hair. “Wow, I would have thought you’d learned from Andrea and me. You have to hear them out, man. You didn’t take any of her calls? Not even one?”

  “How do you know all this, anyway?” I ask, not wanting a lecture from them. “How do you know she didn’t do it? Because it sure as fuck looks like it.”

  Noah shrugs. “Look, I’ll admit I thought she fooled even me. After she told you about the exclusivity rider, I began to suspect that maybe her intentions were good, af
ter all. But then I saw this on the website today and figured it was all just a very, very good act, a ploy to keep you invested in the deal while she learned the last pieces she needed to steal your product.

  “But that was my knee-jerk reaction to seeing the news on the website. It neatly ties up this whole saga. However, it doesn’t quite fit, either.

  “When I found out you were lining up a deal with NBI, I started investigating the company and talked to some ex-NBI employees. They were all fired for various reasons, but all because they tried to do the right thing on a deal. They’re the ones who told me what happened to those companies I told you about.

  “And they all vouched for Jude. At the time, I discounted what they were saying because I was so convinced she had to be in on it with Northwood. But she did tell you what Northwood wanted in the contract. So either she was duped like you were, or she came here from the start with the intention to steal your product. I just don’t know which one’s the reality. Something doesn’t add up. You need to call her.”

  My heart leaps with hope, but I viciously squash it. I won’t be taken for a ride a second time. My heart can’t take it.

  Jackson rubs his chin in thought. “And how did you find those employees?”

  “I have my ways.”

  I sigh. “And one of these days we really should discuss those ways of yours. You know too much about everything.”

  “It’s my job.”

  “So mysterious,” Griffin grumbles.

  Noah raps the table with his knuckles. “My job is not the issue here. Nate, you’d be stupid not to proceed with your label, regardless of what NBI does. For fuck’s sake, it’s literally good enough that they want to steal it! What more proof do you need?

  “So it takes a little longer to get distributed. So what? Everyone around here will support you. Your liquor speaks for itself. The road might be a little harder than you thought it was going to be a few weeks ago, but it’s going to work out in the end.”

  I sigh. “Yeah, well, there’s still the question of that asshole, Lipton. If he actually tries to come after me for the loan, then I’m fucked. Even if I give the funds back, I’ll have to get a loan from someone else, and if they find out about this trumped-up charge, they won’t want to lend to me.”