Bourbon Springs Box Set: Volume III, Books 7-9 (Bourbon Springs Box Sets Book 3)

by Jennifer Bramseth

  Jorrie clutched her phone and stared at it, suddenly excited about the prospect Nina had dangled out to her. With a few taps, she returned the call.

  “Why don’t we meet at the distillery café for lunch or dinner?” Nina asked.

  “Well, I’d rather go somewhere else if it’s all the same to you.” Jorrie didn’t want to venture onto the distillery grounds lest she bump into Mack that Saturday.

  “Oh, well, okay,” Nina said. “What if we meet for dinner at Over a Barrel at six?”

  “Now you’re talking.”

  Jorrie rarely went to Over a Barrel on the weekends, so having an excuse to eat at the deli was a real treat. The menu was the same, except that on weekends the deli was more likely to offer that famous Kentucky dish, a hot brown. It took a while to cook and was not the best offering for a weekday lunchtime crowd intent on eating as quickly as possible and then returning to work.

  After running through her errands that day and trying to keep her mind off Mack and the attack on them both the previous night, Jorrie took a shower, changed into some black linen pants and a pink knit top and walked the short block from her condo to the deli.

  When she approached the deli, she saw Nina sitting in the window, watching for her. Nina waved, got up from her seat and went to greet Jorrie as she entered.

  After hugs, Nina cocked her head a little and looked askance at her companion.

  “You not feeling well?”

  Was it that obvious that she was miserable after the breakup?

  Jorrie briefly explained that she’d broken up with her boyfriend the previous night and revealed his identity.

  “I’m so sorry,” Nina said, hugging her again. “I’m afraid we can commiserate when it comes to that.”

  Upon Jorrie’s blank stare, Nina reminded her that she’d broken up with her boyfriend over the summer. Jorrie was incensed to learn Nina’s ex had already moved on, gotten married, and was expecting a baby.

  “Rough summer,” Nina admitted, looking at the floor.

  “Not nearly as rough as yours.”

  They queued in a small line, and Jorrie was pleased to see that the hot brown was on the menu. After ordering and being told a server would bring the food to them, they took a seat at the same table where Nina had been sitting when Jorrie approached the deli.

  “So tell me about this job,” Jorrie said.

  “I’ve learned that they’re not going to advertise it but start accepting resumes quietly. Maggie—that’s my boss, the chief counsel, Maggie Bristol—told the lawyers to start putting out feelers to friends we knew who might be interested. So I take it you’re in that group?”

  “Absolutely,” confirmed Jorrie. “I think it’s time for me to move on from Bourbon Springs. And this looks like a great chance to do that.”

  “If you give me your résumé today, I bet you’ll get a call within the week for an interview,” Nina declared.

  Jorrie said that after dinner they could walk back to her condo and she’d give Nina a copy of her most recent resume. “It’s a little old since it’s been so long since I applied for a job. I might need to update it.”

  “Then do that tonight and e-mail it to me tomorrow.”

  “This whole thing sounds too good to be true. Is there a downside here? Is someone leaving because they can’t stand the work?”

  “Nothing like that. Like I told you a few weeks ago, the departing lawyer is actually moving on to bigger and better things at the U.S. Attorney’s office in Lexington. I suppose that if there is a downside, it’s that there was talk about abolishing the position to save money. State government is always looking to cut corners.”

  “So this job isn’t a sure thing?”

  “It was just talk,” Nina assured her. “We need that attorney position, and Maggie raised hell when the higher-ups brought up the idea. She trotted out all kinds of statistics about how our caseloads were crazy, and our governing committee quickly dropped the idea of eliminating the position. So no worries there.”

  “So what do you think about my chances?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll do everything I can to talk you up to Maggie. She’s the one to make the final hiring decision. But I know she’ll love you enough on paper to ask you to come in for an interview.”

  “You’re really confident about this, aren’t you?”

  “I’m excited about the idea of working with you, yes. And I’m excited for you because I just know you’ll love this work. If you miss prosecuting, this is just the kind of job you’re looking for, but with slightly better pay.”

  “It sounds perfect.”

  But in the back of her mind some little alarm was going off, telling her something was wrong. First of all, it still sounded too good to be true.

  And her gut was twisted into knots by her own hypocrisy. She was happily considering leaving Bourbon Springs, the very same reason she’d broken up with Mack because she predicted he would never return. But he was the one leaving first—at least that’s what she told herself because that’s how it felt.

  With nothing to lose since she let him go, she knew it was time for her to walk away as well.

  Mack’s meeting with Webb went as expected. Webb wanted him back as a client and had the gigs to back up his pitch.

  The money was there, but there was a catch.

  A big one.

  Mack had to sign up for a series of Saturday night gigs for six weeks to begin after the end of the concerts at the distillery, and then the venue—a major resort on a lake outside Nashville—would decide if they wanted to hire him for the next six months. So that meant Mack had to commit to the six weeks and get a little money before the resort made a final decision. It was a carrot on a stick.

  The money for the six-week series wasn’t enough to pay off the debt he owed, and he’d have to quit his job at Old Garnet to be able to do it. Plus he’d be dead tired from the traveling and the performing, not to mention his day job teaching.

  And he’d have to find someone to check on Albert during the Saturdays and Sundays he was gone. That would be a tall order since he no longer had the money to hire healthcare aides; he had no idea what to do other than ask someone—maybe a friend at the bottling house—to help out.

  Yet despite its serious drawbacks, the six-week gig was still the only option other than filing bankruptcy, so he took it.

  Albert wasn’t happy when Mack told him that starting in about mid-October he’d be gone most of the weekends. He’d been mad ever since Mack delivered the news that Jorrie had broken up with him, thinking that Mack had done something to “that poor girl” to make her angry at him. He couldn’t convince his grandfather that he wasn’t at fault.

  But maybe that was because he couldn’t convince himself.

  He’d turned over in his mind countless times her accusation that the songs meant more to him than her. And now he was going off to Nashville, proving her point.

  Besides telling his grandfather of his plans, the next hardest thing he had to do was tell Bo that he was quitting as the weekend bottling house supervisor. He never thought he’d be so sad to leave a part-time job, but he’d come to love working at Old Garnet and had made good friends. He was especially grateful to the Davenports and Bucklers for their generosity, and part of him felt like he was betraying them by leaving.

  “I really hate to lose you, Mack,” Bo said during lunch the following Saturday when Mack broke the news to him and Goose, “but I understand. Is there any way to keep you here? I’m still considering hiring another full-time manager.”

  Bo mentioned the possible salary, but Mack shook his head. “I’d love to stay, but it won’t work for me. I’ve got some people breathing down my neck for money right now, and I’m trying to stay out of bankruptcy.”

  “I can certainly understand that,” Bo said.

  “So what about your grandfather?” Goose asked. “He going with you?”

  “I’ll move him down there if I get the six-month gig, but I can’t
justify doing it yet. Problem is that I don’t know what I’m going to do while I’m gone. I need someone to check on the grump on Saturdays and Sundays. I’ve been asking around for help.”

  “If you like, I’ll ask my mom to do that,” Goose said. “Sounds like her kind of thing.”

  “I can’t afford a nurse,” Mack said.

  “She’s not a nurse, but she put up with my cranky father for over fifty years, so I’d say she’s highly qualified to deal with grumpy old men,” Goose said, “I think Mom may be here today working in the gift shop. We can go talk to her if you’d like.”

  After a little bit of discussion about Mack’s injuries (wrapped and healing) and security at the remaining concerts (a necessary evil), Mack shook Bo’s hand and left with Goose in search of Lucy in the gift shop.

  “Sure, I’d be happy to help out,” Lucy Davenport said when her son proposed the idea of keeping an eye on the irascible Albert. “Gives me something to do, and I know Albert, although he’s probably at least fifteen years older than me.”

  “Yeah, but he acts like he’s fifteen years old,” Mack warned her. “He’s either a charmer or as mean as a snake. I’m not sure which version you’ll get. Maybe both, depending on his mood. I’m usually treated to the snake version on a regular basis.”

  “Don’t you worry,” Lucy said, grinning. “I can handle him.”

  After Mack made arrangements for Lucy to drop by the house later that evening so he could tell his grandfather she would be checking on him during the fall weekends, he returned to the bottling house to break the news of his departure to his coworkers. Even though there were several more weeks until he went to Nashville, he wanted his coworkers to know he was leaving.

  Before he walked back into the bottling house, he pulled out his phone, wanting to call Jorrie and tell her the news. Even though they’d supposedly broken up, the rupture was still fresh and raw and he didn’t believe—or didn’t want to believe—that it was a permanent break.

  As he hesitated, he felt the physical and emotional distance expanding between them. Just that little bit of reluctance to call, to say hello, told him that things had changed and that they might never return to the normal he wanted. He slipped the phone back into his pocket and strode into the bottling house, already missing the world he left behind.

  24

  Jorrie usually wasn’t nervous as she drove the hour or so to Frankfort from Bourbon Springs. Trips to her hometown usually meant seeing her parents for a nice meal out or spending the night with them during a long holiday weekend.

  But on that bright late September day, her tummy was a mess as she headed up the Bluegrass Parkway, took the Lawrenceburg exit north, and made straight for the state capital. She hadn’t told her parents about the possible job in Frankfort because she didn’t want to get their hopes up that she would be returning home.

  She also hadn’t told Drake about her interview, although she got the sense from him that he knew she was restless. He had revealed his anxiety about her possible departure by bringing up the option that they could expand their practice areas. She thought it was a decent idea but also knew that it was not an easy or quickly completed task.

  It was especially difficult in a small town like Bourbon Springs, where the majority of attorneys were general practitioners because most people didn’t need an expert in some niche area of law. People needed wills drafted, divorce petitions filed, or traffic tickets resolved. Getting the gig as Pepper’s attorney was an anomaly, and her legal needs were becoming more routine now that the tours had become established and the farm a well-run enterprise.

  After Jorrie had gotten the call from the chief counsel inviting her to come interview, Nina had called several times. Nina shared that attorney discipline work was rewarding and interesting but often difficult, and that the attorneys in her office, while close-knit, sometimes felt like outsiders in their own profession. Jorrie wasn’t sure how she would handle such an experience. Despite her expanding ambitions, she enjoyed the camaraderie of practicing law in a small town. Even though she was not a Craig County native, she’d never felt treated differently because she hadn’t been born and raised in the spot.

  Nina’s directions were perfect, and with her knowledge of Frankfort, Jorrie easily located the attorney regulation offices. She arrived about ten minutes early and sat in her car during that time to collect her wits and review her updated resume. She felt reasonably comfortable and confident in her best suit, a black one with a midcalf skirt. After sitting alone about five minutes, she exited her vehicle and went into the building, extra résumés and writing samples in hand.

  “I’m so glad you could come in to interview today,” said Maggie Bristol, the chief counsel, as she led Jorrie into a large rectangular conference room. “Nina has spoken quite highly of you.”

  Maggie Bristol was a tall, thin woman in her fifties with short gray hair. She reminded Jorrie of one of her favorite teachers in high school, and Jorrie immediately felt at ease in her presence. The two women took seats opposite each other along the oval glass-topped table, and Jorrie slid an extra copy of her resume and writing samples across to Maggie, who briefly looked at them and then put the documents aside.

  “So why do you want to work for us?” Maggie asked with a pleasant smile.

  “Because the work sounds incredibly fascinating and this is my hometown. I’ve got both prosecutorial experience and private practice experience, and I know I could do the job well and fit in.”

  Maggie nodded slowly and smiled. “What do you want to know about how we work here?”

  Jorrie asked questions about caseload, dealing with the public, and how cases were resolved. Maggie answered all her questions in a clear and brief manner, and Jorrie thought her inquiries made a good impression.

  The last point Jorrie raised was the only concern she had about taking the job: whether it would last. Jorrie hadn’t forgotten Nina’s comments about the position being defunded.

  “That’s just not likely to happen based on the caseload of this office. I just can’t see the Supreme Court taking a lawyer position away from us,” Maggie claimed. “So when can you start?”

  “You’re making me an offer today?”

  “Sure am. This is an easy decision. I’ve got a former prosecutor with civil practice experience and a hometown girl to boot. I checked all your references, and everyone said I’d be stupid to pass up the chance to hire you. So what do you say?”

  “I-I accept,” Jorrie said, completely in shock at the turn of events. Getting a job had never been so easy.

  Maggie put her hand out and the two women shook on it before discussing salary (Jorrie already knew the range, thanks to Nina’s information) and when Jorrie could begin.

  “I’m afraid that I’ll need at least a month before I could start,” Jorrie said. “I’ve got to wind down my private practice and move.”

  “I understand,” Maggie said. “We’ll see you here in a month. For now, let’s go tell Nina the good news and then introduce you to the staff.”

  Unsurprisingly, Nina was elated with the news and accompanied Maggie and Jorrie around the office as she met support staff and other lawyers. Jorrie was introduced to the chief assistant, Phoebe Haverstock, as well as the other assistant counsels, Hope Kirkland, Drew Bingham, and Jonna Ball.

  “I had no idea you had so many attorneys here,” Jorrie said as Maggie and Nina walked her to the door.

  “And we could use even more, considering the caseloads we all carry,” Maggie said as Nina nodded.

  After congratulations from Maggie and hugs from Nina, Jorrie returned to her car and immediately called her parents with the news. After ending the call, she headed back to Bourbon Springs, and with every mile she put between herself and Frankfort, her excitement and happiness slipped away.

  She was returning to the home which would not be home for much longer. She had chosen to leave. As the miles passed, regret or something like it began to nip at the edges of her conscie
nce.

  How would she tell Drake? Or Pepper? And should she call Mack and give him the news?

  By the time she made it to the exit off the Bluegrass Parkway and was no more than ten minutes away from Craig County, all the hope and eagerness she’d felt in Frankfort was gone and she fought back tears.

  “You’ve got to go,” Pepper declared.

  “No, I don’t.”

  “But it’s the last concert of the season. Who knows when you’ll get another chance to see Mack perform?”

  “And that’s exactly why I don’t want to go,” Jorrie protested. “It will be all the worse because I know it will be the last. I’ll be miserable.” Jorrie moved her cell phone from her right to left ear and opened the door of her fridge, looking for something to drink.

  Pepper had hounded Jorrie for weeks about going to Mack’s concerts. After they’d broken up during Labor Day weekend, Jorrie had stopped attending; it was just too painful.

  According to Pepper, Mack’s performances had suffered and most of the pieces he played were not upbeat and happy. She wondered whether Mack had performed Good Heavens or High Hills, but didn’t have the courage to ask.

  “But won’t you be more miserable if you later realize you should’ve gone? People tend to regret the things they didn’t do a lot more than the things they did do.”

  Jorrie closed the fridge door, her search for a can of something to drink having met in failure.

  “You’re right,” Jorrie admitted. “But I’m not going to sit up front with the rest of you people.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t want Mack to see me, that’s why.”

  “Just get yourself there, girl,” Pepper exhorted. “What if this is his last curtain call in Bourbon Springs?”

  After getting off the phone with Pepper, Jorrie looked around her condo. Tonight was a final curtain for her as well.

  Her living room and kitchen were filled with moving boxes, all packed and awaiting transport to her new apartment in Frankfort. Tomorrow was moving day; she was leaving Bourbon Springs bright and early on Saturday morning and starting her new job in Frankfort on Monday.