The entire crowd was on its feet clapping for the trio, and CiCi saw she wasn’t the only one in the audience crying. People at other tables, dozens of people who presumably knew Bo, Hannah, and Walker from the bourbon business, were clapping and blinking away tears. She became very aware at that moment of how interconnected the bourbon industry was and how its members exulted in others’ triumphs and felt the pain of their tragedies.
Walker hugged Hannah, who was still wiping tears from her eyes, and then Bo. They were all about to sit back down when the master of ceremonies told Walker to remain for his presentation. At this point, Bo and Hannah returned to the table and the crowd sat.
As he had done for Bo and Hannah, the speaker gave a short introduction for Walker, noting his long tenure in the bourbon industry and his recent appointment as master distiller at Old Garnet. The speaker then gave Walker his award: a small crystal cask.
Walker stood in front of the microphone, speechless for several seconds, and CiCi trembled in anticipation and pride at the sight of him holding his award. He hadn’t told her what he was going to say—maybe he hadn’t planned on saying anything—but the crowd expected something.
His remarks were short and did not disappoint.
After the requisite brief expression of surprise and gratitude for the award, Walker began to speak in a slow, clear voice.
“I am having the best time of my life at Old Garnet. I have been welcomed there and in Bourbon Springs with open arms, just like family. I am at home. But I know I’m only at the beginning of what will be many wonderful days ahead. I have so very much to look forward to. I love you all,” he said, glancing at the Old Garnet table. “I love you all so very, very much.”
And with his final words he looked directly at her. CiCi began to cry as hard as Hannah, and the two friends embraced and sobbed.
Walker left the podium and went straight to CiCi. He claimed his chair next to her and leaned in for a long, lingering kiss.
“Congratulations,” she said in a voice still thick with emotion. She put her hand on his cheek and gazed at him, willing herself to remember every facet of his features at that special moment.
“I love you,” he said. He kissed her again before she got the chance to say the same to him.
Fifteen minutes after the banquet and awards presentation had ended, Walker and CiCi had gotten additional drinks at the still-open bar. CiCi had stowed her flask back in her purse lest anyone else see it; she wasn’t in a sharing mood when it came to Garnet Center Cut. Alone after saying good-night to their Old Garnet friends, they wandered out of the banquet room and through the capacious meeting areas on the second floor of the hotel until they found a balcony overlooking the river.
“What is this?” CiCi asked and raised her glass of bourbon to nose it. “Lots of rye in it.” She took another whiff, followed by a sip.
Walker was leaning on both arms over the railing. He turned and grinned at her. “So nice to be around someone who knows her bourbon.”
“I don’t know that much because I don’t know which one this is. Sure has zing to it. Spicy, but with a fruity finish. Thought I detected apricot.”
“Bulleit.” He looked down at her glass. “Don’t care for it?”
“I do. It’s just different from Garnet.”
“Try this,” he said, handing her his glass. “It’s not Garnet.”
She took a sip. “Easy. Maker’s.”
“Wow,” he said, amazed.
She grinned, pleased and smug. “I know my stuff.”
They finished their drinks and put the empty glasses on a small table near the door. For several happy minutes, they stood together silently with their arms wrapped around each other and watched the light traffic on the river. Barges and tugs slunk up and down the dark waters of the Ohio, and the Belle of Louisville cast off with a raucous group of partygoers. CiCi could smell the dank water, and the unpleasant aroma mixed with the smells of the city: car exhaust, a greasy-food smell, and a certain staleness that was connected to anything urban. It wasn’t pollution, she thought, so much as the absence of the countryside; even an unpalatable rural-associated odor, such as manure, would’ve been preferable to the unwelcome mélange that she detected in the stuffy night air.
A knock from behind jarred them from their pleasant view, and they turned to find Nina waving at them from the other side of a glass door. CiCi and Walker left the balcony and moved back toward the banquet area, where there were a handful of attendees still mingling in the hallway outside the room. They only encountered Jeb, who was bouncing on the balls of his feet as he stood in the middle of the hall in front of a round marble-topped table with a large flower arrangement in the middle.
Jeb announced they were about to leave, but Evelyn and Nina had returned to the banquet hall to retrieve a forgotten sweater. Uncomfortable in Jeb’s presence, CiCi excused herself to the nearby ladies’ room, happy to momentarily escape Walker’s father’s presence and hoping for a pleasant ending to the evening.
Almost as soon as CiCi left, Evelyn and Nina returned.
“So proud and happy for you, Walker,” his mother said, pulling him into a hug. Nina then did the same, and both women stood back and beamed at him.
“Congratulations again,” Jeb said stiffly as he offered his son his hand. Walker took the hand, shook it, and pulled his dad into an awkward hug, which Jeb broke first.
Walker put his award on a table behind his father, thanked his family for joining him, and said he hoped they could come to the distillery soon for a personal tour.
“No problem on the timing,” Walker said. “Whenever you want. I can make the time.”
Jana then emerged from the banquet room, and Jeb waved her over.
“Getting ready to leave,” Jeb said. He gave Jana a quick hug, which she not-so-enthusiastically returned. “Walker says he can give us a tour anytime. Is that right?”
“Of course. I think he’s even stepped in a few times when I’ve asked him to help out with tours during heavy tourist days.”
Walker nodded. “Glad to oblige.”
Jeb frowned at both Walker and Jana and shook his head in disgusted confusion.
“Why?” he said to no one in particular. “Why? I see the two of you standing there, being nice to each other, almost like nothing happened.”
Jana shifted her weight and cast her eyes on the ground, and Walker’s jaw became set and fixed.
“Nice to see you all,” Jana said and moved as if to leave, “but I really need to get going.”
But Jeb forestalled her departure by gently grasping her forearm.
“No, Jana, honey. Don’t go,” Jeb quietly begged.
“Dad…,” Walker said warningly. He glanced at the bathroom doors, hoping CiCi wasn’t about to reappear.
Evelyn removed Jeb’s hand from Jana’s arm. “Jeb, let her leave.”
“No!” Jeb exploded, pulling away from his wife and Jana. “This,” he said and gestured toward Walker and Jana, “is killing me! Seeing them together and not together. It makes me feel just awful and—”
“And what the hell about us, Dad?” Walker asked, pointing to Jana and himself. She was still by his side but shifting her weight from leg to leg. “How do you think all your comments make both of us feel?”
“I know how she feels. That woman,” Jeb said, stepping toward Walker as he pointed to Jana, “is still in love with you. I know it. She didn’t tell me, but she didn’t have to. It’s obvious to anyone.”
“Get this straight once and for all. We are not together any longer. It is over. We are divorced,” Walker said in a deliberately loud voice, not caring who heard him. He was distracted from movement to the side, and he turned to see CiCi, who had just exited the bathroom to walk smack into a full-blown public display of familial dysfunction.
“I gotta go,” Jana said, pale and trembling. She practically ran away from the group and down the hall. Walker turned and saw a flash of red hair as she disappeared around a corner.
“Look what you did to her!” Jeb accused and pointed after Jana.
“Why are you doing this?” Walker cried, shaken at his father’s emotional display on what was supposed to be a special evening.
“Because I’m trying to get you to see the truth, son,” Jeb said. “You left the woman who loves you.”
“I had my reasons,” Walker said. He strode to where CiCi stood near the bathroom entrance and took her by the arm.
“Reasons? What reasons? I’ve never heard your reasons, so that excuse isn’t enough. You don’t leave those you love, period,” Jeb declared.
Walker hung his head, and CiCi gripped his arm, a tacit and urgent plea to leave. Nina was standing behind her mother, blinking away tears and looking from Walker to her father.
Evelyn took her husband by the arm and spun him around to face her.
“Leave Walker alone, you old fool,” Evelyn hissed. “You’re so caught up in the past that you can’t see the wonderful thing right in front of you. Those two,” Evelyn said, pointing to Walker and CiCi, “make a great couple. And you’ve been nothing but rude to them tonight, especially CiCi, who’s a complete charmer, as both Nina and I know. She’s gracious, sweet, and in love with your son. Yet you’ve been a jackass on the most important night of your son’s career.”
Jeb grunted and glared at his wife. It was clear she was hoping for a modicum of politeness in the form of an apology from father to son. But as the silence extended, she was severely disappointed.
And pissed.
“Tell him why, Jeb. Tell Walker why you’re like this. Tell him now,” she demanded, a palpable edge of threat and contempt in her tone.
“None of his business,” Jeb spat.
“You damned hypocrite!” Evelyn cried, shaking her husband by one arm. “It sure as hell is Walker’s business—and your daughter’s too, for that matter. She’s witnessing all this pain and suffering as well!”
“You don’t—”
Evelyn held up a dismissive hand in her husband’s face. “Do not want to hear it any more. Last chance. Tell them or I will. You’re torturing your own children with your stupid insecurities!”
“You would not tell them,” Jeb said half jokingly.
“Yes, I’ll tell them. And now. Because you’re hurting my son and daughter, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to stand by any longer and not try to protect them from your poison.” She turned to face Walker and CiCi, who were holding on to each other like survivors of a storm.
“You—” began Jeb.
“Too late,” Evelyn said out of the corner of her mouth. She took a step closer to Walker and CiCi, determination and tears on her face. “Your father always told you his father died when he was young. Not true,” she said, shaking her head and sighing. “That was a fairy tale. Because the truth is that his father left, abandoned Jeb and his mother—your grandmother. Jeb rarely saw his father, and his mother divorced him for abandonment. That’s why he’s like this,” Evelyn explained. “All scared at any hint of betrayal or loss or hurt. Like it could happen again and the world would come crashing down.”
“I don’t want it to ever happen again,” Jeb said in a very low voice as he looked at his feet. “To anyone. I can’t stand it.”
“And you weren’t put on this Earth to right those kinds of wrongs, particularly when it comes to the affections of others,” Evelyn sniffed and then turned to address her son. “So there you have it. Not an excuse but an explanation. It’s not you, Walker, it’s him. It’s all him.”
Chapter 29
Following quick, almost nonexistent good-byes to Walker’s family after Evelyn’s revelation, Walker and CiCi fled to the elevators and the solitude of the penthouse. As they ascended in silence, she held Walker’s hand and put her head on his shoulder, hoping that Jeb hadn’t completely ruined his son’s special night.
Walker was shaking so badly that he was unable to open the penthouse door, and CiCi had to take his key card and do the honors. He went straight to the main bedroom, took off his jacket and threw it on the bed, and slipped off his tie. His body was still trembling as he fell on the edge of the bed and held his head in his hands.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I had no idea that had happened to him.”
CiCi kicked off her shoes and sat behind Walker with her legs to one side. She started giving him a backrub; his shoulder muscles were tight and hard, and she had to force her thumbs and fingers down into the knotted sinews. He let escape a mixture of grunts and grateful sighs.
“At least now you understand,” she said, “although it still is a lousy reason for treating you—and Jana—the way he has.”
“And he still expects me to tell him what happened with Jana,” Walker said roughly as CiCi continued to knead his muscles. “But you haven’t asked me at all about it since that day we first saw Jana at the distillery,” Walker marveled and shook his head. “My own girlfriend won’t get on my case about it, won’t demand to know the story, but my father keeps giving me hell.”
“I don’t need to know,” she said and stopped massaging him. CiCi put her chin on his shoulder until her lips were next to his ear and wrapped her arms around his chest. “I love you, you love me. That’s all that matters.”
Walker turned around on the bed and pulled CiCi into a position where they were directly facing each other.
“And that’s exactly why I’m going to tell you the truth. Because you love me and need to understand.” He closed his eyes as though trying to summon the unhappy memories. “I’ve told you that Jana and I argued and separated more than once, but I didn’t tell you why we argued.” He opened his eyes, and they became unfixed as he summoned the recollections. “We kept fighting over having a baby.” He exhaled, as if the admission were a relief. “She kept putting it off, and I was upset and worried because I knew our chances to conceive were dwindling as time passed. I’d told her before we got married that I wanted kids and thought she wanted the same; but then she got cold feet or changed her mind or whatever.
“And we broke up a few times over it. Said I was badgering her, pestering her. Maybe I was. But I felt that she’d been dishonest with me. And I was ready to stick a fork in it. I thought it was over. She called, wanting to get back together, and we did for a little while, but I eventually told her I wanted out. She didn’t take it well.”
He released CiCi’s hands, stood, and started to pace. He moved back and forth for several passes, then went to the windows and stood before the blackness of the night sky.
“Jana called me again, about two weeks later. She said she was pregnant. And that was it for me; we reconciled at once, and for a few weeks, everything was wonderful. I was so happy. We both were. But when I asked her about going to the doctor with her, she kept making excuses until she couldn’t anymore. She admitted she’d lied to me. She’d lied about being pregnant and admitted she did it because she still loved me and didn’t want to get divorced. But that’s exactly what happened. I left for good and filed for divorce within the week. I’ve never trusted her since.”
His admission made CiCi feel ill; the scope of his tragedy wasn’t that he’d lost a child, which would have been horrible.
It was that he’d lost hope in a future with someone he had loved.
Hope destroyed by deceit.
Love killed by a lie.
That day she’d first seen Jana at the distillery, Walker hadn’t been looking at his former spouse with unrequited, pining love still burning in his soul. He’d been staring at someone he used to love and was still mourning the person he’d lost: someone he had trusted and loved.
And that person was never coming back.
He was an emotional widower, with his ex-wife still walking the Earth.
CiCi felt a short burst of relief at this revelation. Walker didn’t love Jana—the Jana that existed now. He never would again because he couldn’t trust her.
But she was soon gripped by sickening panic.
This
was a man who wanted a child, and she was almost certain that with her physical condition, she’d never be able to give that to him absent medical interventions that had no guarantee of actually working.
In the back of her mind a nugget of fear began to gnaw and taunt her: I can’t have a child.
“It was that lie, CiCi,” he continued. “I’ve never gotten over it. That breach of trust.” She slid off the bed and padded over to him at the window where they embraced. “I’m sorry all this had to happen tonight. I hope you’re not disappointed.”
She leaned back and looked at him with an astonished glare. “Disappointed? Walker, you chose to trust me with the worst secret you have.”
“So you’re—what?” he asked, not understanding.
“Walker, the truth you just told me is horrible. I knew it would be since you chose not to share it until now. Only a very deep hurt is hidden so well. But you trusted me. I’m… honored, I guess is the best way to put it.”
He held her out at arm’s length. “I love you, CiCi, and I never want to lose you. That’s why I told you. I trust you. I can’t think what it would be like if—”
She put a finger to his lips and quieted him. She’d heard plenty of attorneys babble on and on, and she could recognize the beginning of a rant.
Enough with the revelations and angst for one evening. And now was not the time to stop and slip into the gown Hannah had gifted her. CiCi would save it for another date, even more special than this night.
“Shut up and make love to me,” she commanded.
Kissing him, she unbuttoned his shirt and moved her fingers lower along the center of his chest until she reached the waistband of his pants. CiCi then set to unbuckling his belt and getting those damn pants off him.
Walker wasted no time in unzipping CiCi’s dress and slipping his hands inside to unhook her bra. With a few more tugs, the dress was on the floor.
As was his jaw.
“Like this color?” she asked.
CiCi was wearing the dark red satin push-up bra she’d picked up at Booty-Teke. She’d wondered what Walker’s reaction would be once he saw her in the skimpy garment, and the look of shock and lust on his face had made her somewhat extravagant purchase well worth it. He was breathing heavily as his eyes roved over her body, and finally he brought his hands to cup her breasts, his thumbs stroking her nipples beneath the smooth fabric.
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