Bourbon & Branch Water

by Patricia Green

  Stormy would have loved some tea, but she kept that to herself. “Yes, I’m fine.” She sat where Russell had indicated, and put her briefcase in her lap. The couple sat down in fussy-looking chintz-upholstered chairs, and looked at her expectantly.

  Stormy addressed Mr. Porterman. “I’m Stormy Stillwater, sir. You might remember me. I was present when you were talking with Mr. Holyfield in Fire Gorge.”

  “Oh yes.” His face told her that he remembered her. “We were expecting you, weren’t we, Ella?”

  “Actually,” the older woman replied, “I was hoping Mr. Holyfield had reconsidered and would handle this himself. Maybe we ought to try to find someone in Las Vegas.”

  Porterman frowned, “you know we can’t afford that, Ella.” He addressed Stormy, “naturally, we’re interested in having the best representation we can afford. Mr. Holyfield spoke well of you. I’m confident you’ll stay on top of the matter.”

  He trusted her, a warm flush of pride through Stormy’s chest. She was bound and determined to win this case for the Portermans, even if she didn’t much like the Missus.

  Ella snorted derisively at her husband’s trusting attitude, “we’ll see.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Stormy’s discomfort returned in the face of Ella’s chilly behavior. She opened her briefcase and took out her notepad. “I know what your complaint is, I think. Please tell me if I’ve got any of the facts wrong.” Addressing her notes, Stormy went on. “One: your neighbors, Leland and Nancy Randolph, requested a license from the county to begin a bourbon distillery on their property. Two: that distillery was going to use water from Cicada Creek, the nearby offshoot of the Little Moapa. Three: You lodged a complaint with the county, alleging that since the Randolphs ranch is upstream from you, they’d be polluting the creek with their discharge water causing you financial loss. And four: you further complained that it was a civic irresponsibility to launch a liquor manufacturing facility in the county, and that it would encourage the local population to bad behavior and alcohol dependency.” Stormy hadn’t been fooled for a minute about who the “local population” the suit mentioned was. It was the nearby Paiutes. It was ignorant and bigoted, but Stormy still had a job to do. One of the things she had to do was get the Portermans to drop that part of their suit. It was a spurious complaint at best.

  Ella spoke up. “Yes, those are our concerns, what can you do about them?”

  Stormy got out her pen and fussed with her notepad. She was so uncomfortable with this woman. Be professional, she told herself. Take charge. “Well, you can certainly sue for the environmental concerns about the water. There is some precedence for it. I think we have enough to work with on that.” She took a deep breath and looked from Ella to Russ and back again. “But the civic harm claim is one you can’t win. Alcohol is legal in this county. Anyone twenty-one or older is allowed to drink, so long as the alcohol is legally obtained.”

  Ella bristled and turned to her husband. “You see, Russ? I told you we should get a lawyer from Las Vegas and not Fire Gorge. If we had to use a Fire Gorge attorney, at least Holyfield would have done better than this young woman. Experience is what we need.” Her gaze went to Stormy, “and some spine.”

  “Now, now, Ella,” Russ said. “I know temperance is important to you, honey. But if there’s no legal way we can pursue it, you’ll just have to handle it through your women’s group and the church civic society.”

  Once more Ella snorted. It was an unbecoming sound. “You would try to weasel out of it, Russell Porterman. You know how strongly I feel about this.” She stood. “I think this conversation is over.”

  Her husband got a little testy. “Sit down, Ella. Miss Stillwater didn’t come all the way out here to disappoint us.” He turned to Stormy, “right?”

  “No, sir, I’m confident that your water rights claim is your best mechanism for halting the approval for the bourbon distillery. A win is a win, Mr. Porterman. It really doesn’t matter what the particulars are.”

  He smiled. “You see, Ella? We’ll do fine.”

  Mrs. Porterman was still standing, shoulders straight and nose in the air. “Ha! With all due respect to Mr. Holyfield, I think his judgment is way off on this.” She turned toward Stormy, her eyes cold. “I’m sorry, Miss Stillwater, but you don’t inspire confidence in me.”

  Her heart sinking but her back straight, Stormy put her pen and pad away. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Mrs. Porterman.”

  “Now, wait a minute,” Russell said. “If Holyfield has confidence in Miss Stillwater, we should too.”

  “You do as you like, Russ. I wash my hands of it. I’m going to go to Las Vegas tomorrow to find us a proper attorney.”

  Proper attorney, yeah, right, as if those years in law school and clerking only qualified Stormy to sell burritos at the Gas N Gulp! But she wasn’t going to argue. What was the point? It was obvious that Ella Porterman wore the pants in the family. It was hard to respect Russell when he let his wife walk all over him that way, but so be it. She stood and offered her business card. Ella turned up her nose, but Russell rose and took it. “If you change your mind, you can call me anytime.”

  “Miss Stillwater,” Russell said. “We paid a retainer to Mr. Holyfield.”

  “Oh.” Stormy hadn’t considered that. “Well, I’m sure that can be worked out.”

  He looked to his wife. “Ella, I think we should stick with it here. Come on, honey. Do it for me?”

  Stormy’s stomach roiled. He was a total wimp. Or maybe he loved his wife so much that he wanted to make her happy no matter how much he had to grovel. Her gaze shifted to Ella.

  Ella relented, faced with her husband’s plea. “Fine, It’s completely stupid, Russ. You mark my words.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be okay, honey.” He gestured toward a chair. “Please sit down again, Miss Stillwater,” he said. “We have more to discuss.”

  Smiling, feeling a little guilty that she was so elated to have Ella Porterman back down, Stormy sat and got out her pad again.

  * * *

  Tanya’s hair was messy-chic, her nails were long and fuchsia and her lipstick was perfect, leaving only the lightest print on her wine glass. Stormy wondered how her friend could always be so well put together when they met at The Lounge Bar and Grill after work. Stormy was tired by six o’clock, her shoulders drooped and her clothing was rumpled. She’d re-braided her long hair, but the French braid was uninspired, practical, and she knew she wasn’t nearly as attractive as Tanya, even if she was a bit more slender than her extra-curvy friend.

  It didn’t matter, though. Stormy was high on success. She’d gotten the Portermans to accept her help on the case. That was a victory, as far as she was concerned and deserved a glass of wine in celebration. Unfortunately, they were still pursuing the temperance angle, but she hoped to talk them out of it as she built their case for loss of property due to environmental damage. Even that aspect of the case was a little shaky, unlike what she’d told the Portermans but there was precedent in other states and she hoped to bring that to bear on this case too. She had to win, she just had to. She’d heard that the other party, the Randolph’s, had a high-powered attorney from Las Vegas working on their case. It was entirely possible that she’d be outgunned on this one, but Stormy didn’t want to dwell on the possible negatives. It was Wednesday, she was with Tanya, and a little celebration for the day’s victory was all she needed to focus on for the time being.

  Tanya’s gaze fell on something over Stormy’s shoulder as they sat at the long, dark bar. “Is Brent Williams doing his funky chicken dance again?” Stormy asked as she turned on her bar stool.

  “Don’t look!” Tanya hissed. “He’s coming this way.”

  “Don’t look at what? Who?” Stormy whispered. “What’s gotten into you?”

  Her friend leaned in and spoke very softly. Stormy could barely hear her. “There’s a gorgeous guy on his way through the room. He’s making a beeline toward the bar.”

  “What gorgeo
us guy? Fire Gorge doesn’t have any gorgeous guys who aren’t married already.”

  Tanya’s focus went back to the view over Stormy’s shoulder. “I don’t recognize him, smile, sweetie, he’s coming toward us.”

  There was activity behind Stormy’s left shoulder and she turned. Jeff Hand smiled at her. She nearly fell off her bar stool. Jeff Hand was in Fire Gorge! What could he possibly be doing here?

  “Jeff!” she squeaked.

  “Hi, Stormy.”

  Tanya, smiling her come-hither smile at Jeff, piped up. “You two know each other?”

  Stormy couldn’t form words. She wished she could sink under the bar and crawl out unobtrusively. Embarrassment heated every inch of her body. She hadn’t told Tanya about her weekend fling yet. She’d intended to mention it casually to her friend, but it felt so awkward and un-Stormy that she hadn’t done it. She didn’t know how to broach the subject.

  And now Jeff Hand was here.

  “Yes, we met at Stormy’s brother’s wedding on the weekend,” Jeff said, his deep voice bringing back memories of his sexy words during their intimate moments together.

  Tanya was never at a loss for words, and this occasion was no exception. “I’m Tanya Minor. And you are…?”

  “Jeff Hand, nice to meet you Tanya.”

  “The pleasure is mine, I assure you.” She looked from Jeff to Stormy, who was still completely shocked, and back again. “So you met at Drake’s wedding. Stormy didn’t mention it.”

  “She didn’t, hmm?” He turned toward the bartender and ordered a beer.

  “We usually share everything. Right, Stormy?” Tanya nudged her.

  “Right…no! I mean…not everything!” Feeling a little harassed, Stormy turned to Jeff. “Why are you here? You live in Las Vegas.”

  “True,” he said, sipping his beer. “But I had some business here in Fire Gorge. I planned to come to the tavern and have dinner before I left town.”

  “Oh.”

  “What business are you in, Jeff?” Tanya said, jumping into the silence.

  “I’m an attorney.”

  “No kidding! So is Stormy!”

  His dark eyebrows arched and Stormy slumped in her seat, even more embarrassed. They hadn’t talked about work when they’d been together. They’d been too busy fondling each other. Oh God, she was humiliated.

  Tanya nudged her again and indicated that Stormy ought to say something.

  “What a coincidence,” was all Stormy could think of to say. She remembered his new car, his condo on the strip, his designer décor. He must be a very successful attorney. He was older than her, maybe by five years. Obviously he’d done well. But why was he in Fire Gorge? Tanya asked the question before Stormy could.

  Jeff smiled as he answered. “I’m handling a water rights case for a rancher a little way outside of town.”

  “Water rights?” Stormy squeaked. It had to be some other case. It had to be!

  “Yeah, do you know the Randolphs?”

  “Oh no…”

  “You don’t?” he asked.

  “Of course you do, Stormy,” Tanya answered for her. Then her eyes went wide. “Say, isn’t that the name of the couple you’re litigating against?”

  Stormy squeezed her eyes shut and tried to concentrate on breathing.

  “Is that right…” Jeff responded, more in the form of a statement than a question.

  “Stormy!” Tanya hissed, handing her a wine glass. “Here have a drink.” She smiled again at Jeff. “She’s surprised, that’s all,” she explained. “Stormy’s not usually so spacey.”

  “I know,” he said, and Stormy knew he was referring to her moans and cries of rapture from their time together. She wanted to curl up in a ball and die, but she had to say something.

  “I…uh…I’m representing the Portermans.”

  Jeff chuckled. “That puts us on opposite sides of the fence,” he said. “It’s a small world.”

  “Yeah,” Stormy mumbled. “Small.”

  “Maybe you two ladies would like to join me for dinner?”

  “No!”

  “Love to,” Tanya said at the same time. “Well, I’d like to. If Stormy doesn’t want to…”

  A weird sense of possessiveness fired Stormy’s gut. She loved Tanya like a sister, but she was putting the make on Jeff. Her Jeff. Well, he was sort of hers, or had been. Anyway, Tanya dating Jeff was a no-go. “We shouldn’t, Jeff. I mean the case and all…”

  “I won’t talk about it if you don’t.”

  Was that good enough? Fraternizing with the enemy was a serious matter. But maybe if it was only dinner and they kept it friendly with no professional talk… “Okay,” she said. “Dinner sounds good.”

  “Great,” he responded. “I’ll get us a table.”

  As he wound his way back to the hostess podium, Stormy’s acute embarrassment returned. What would she say to him? She’d agreed to a whole dinner!

  Tanya leaned in to her friend. “Wake up, sister! The guy is making goo-goo eyes at you. He hardly knows I exist. What are you doing?”

  “I uh…well, we kinda…I mean…”

  “Geez, you’re usually quiet, but I’ve never seen you so tongue-tied. Are you feeling okay?”

  “No. Yes.” She groaned and blurted, “I slept with him after Drake’s wedding.”

  Tanya laughed.

  Stormy gave her a dirty look. “It was nothing.”

  “Stormy Stillwater slept with a guy on the first date and that’s nothing? Honey, you practically made the six o’clock news, as far as I’m concerned.” She whispered. “What was it like?”

  “Tanya!”

  “Don’t give me that, ‘I don’t kiss and tell’ routine. That doesn’t fly. I know everything about you. I’ve known you since second grade.”

  “This is different.”

  Tanya eyed her for a moment. “I can see that. You know, Stormy, it’s okay. It was about time you let loose a little.”

  “It was a-” She was about to say “mistake” but Jeff approached.

  “They can seat us now. Are you hungry?”

  Stormy wondered if she’d be able to eat anything at all.

  * * *

  Dinner went okay, though Stormy’s cheeks flushed each time she looked at Jeff and found his gaze lingering on her face. Tanya drove the conversation for the most part, and Jeff went along for the ride. Tanya excused herself for a few minutes, and Jeff reached across and touched Stormy’s hand, his eyes a deep gray-green, exactly as she remember them looking at her the previous weekend, full of sensual interest.

  “I like your hair better loose. You have such beautiful hair,” he said.

  The way he said it, like he really meant it, made Stormy warm. She didn’t know what to say. Would “you have nice hair, too” be stupid?

  “Stormy, you’ve hardly said anything. Are you okay?”

  Why did people keep asking her that? Couldn’t they see that she was not okay? Stormy pulled her hand out of Jeff’s. “I don’t know what to say to you. We shouldn’t even be talking.”

  He looked a little sheepish when he said, “That’s true, but what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.” He grinned and it was so boyish and charming, Stormy was captivated. “Why don’t you come to Las Vegas on the weekend? There’s a new jazz band at the Flamingo this week. We could go, listen to a few tunes and go back to my place, absolutely no discussion of the case.”

  They had avoided the case and their jobs pretty well thus far but he was obviously trying to get her in bed again. It was so foreign an idea, having a relationship purely centered on sex. Jeff Successful Attorney probably did it all the time. “No.”

  Jeff slowly leaned back in his chair, his eyes on her. “I don’t understand you, babe. I thought we had a good time together. Was I wrong?”

  “No,” she whispered. “It was…” Blissful, she wanted to say as the pause drew out. Fabulous, delicious, the most erotic experience of her life. “Okay.”

  He grinned. “‘Okay, you�
�ll come to Las Vegas?”

  It was tempting to let him think that was what she meant. But she couldn’t do it twice. It wasn’t her. Or…maybe she was re-inventing herself, becoming more modern and sophisticated. Maybe she needed to be a little more like Tanya. She’d been in a rut for a few years. No one had made love to her since her last boyfriend in Montana. No one had ever fired her senses until Jeff. She hadn’t realized that sex could be so explosive. And it was just a weekend, it didn’t mean anything. It didn’t make her a slut. It was casual. Friends with benefits, could she accept that all by itself?

  Her very Catholic mother would be shrieking if she knew about Stormy’s behavior. Cheeks growing hot again, Stormy answered quickly, before she could change her mind. “Yeah, I’ll come to Las Vegas but no work talk, okay?”

  He crossed his heart and made the Boy Scout symbol with his hand, “absolutely agreed. I promise we’ll have a good time.”

  Why was he so interested in her anyway? A guy like Jeff could have any girl he wanted. Maybe he’d never slept with a Native American before. Maybe it was the “exotic” factor at work. Of course, that didn’t explain why he’d want to do it twice. Chances are, he was between fashion model girlfriends right now and was simply randy. Yeah, a guy like Jeff would be used to lots of sex, so when he wasn’t getting much, he took the easiest path. Stormy tried not to cringe as she labeled herself “easy” with that thought. This was a big mistake and she’d end up humiliating herself even further. She decided to change her mind and try to get out of it, but Tanya came back.

  “What did I miss?”

  Jeff grinned and Stormy tried to be invisible.

  * * *

  Saturday dawned, Stormy rolled over in bed with a groan and a swipe at her alarm clock. She had to get her morning run in before she left for Las Vegas. Ambivalence wracked her and made her wish it was Monday already. She wanted to go and have wild, uninhibited sex with Jeff. Wanted to let her hair down and really go crazy for once, but at the same time she knew it was going to be difficult to face herself in the mirror afterward. She was weak for wanting Jeff to speak sexy to her again and to have his arms wrapped around her. It was dangerous and would put her legal case in jeopardy. She could accept it more easily if he was interested in more than a good time, but that hadn’t been the way their relationship had gotten started and now it was too late to turn back the clock.