He crossed his arms. “I didn’t know it was a secret.”
The defensiveness poured off of him. Why he was angry was another problem she didn’t have time to solve. “It isn’t. It’s just, well, it’s—”
“Business.”
She nodded, unsure of the sharp tone and where it might lead them in the conversation.
“I’m not ignorant about business, Tabby.”
“Of course you aren’t. It’s just not your thing.”
“Try me.”
He slid onto a stool and offered palms up in a plea. Exhaustion creeped through each limb, and she crossed behind him and collapsed into the overstuffed armchair beside the fireplace.
“Maisie started negotiations about being the sole provider of a select boutique hotel in New York, Chicago, and San Francisco. She was supposed to fly up there and meet with them before…”
It took three swallows before the lump dissolved enough for her to continue. “I’ve been trying to complete everything without having to go, but the owner insists on a face-to-face.”
“Are you scared of him?”
“What? No. I just…” She looked up into knowing eyes. Eyes she could be honest with. Who wouldn’t laugh away her concerns because, at the root, he knew them. “I don’t think I can do it,” she confided. “Be her. Be what she was to this company and succeed. I’m a distiller. I smell like hops and barley. I taste distinct flavor palates and carry dirt and smoke on me from the peat moss. I’m not high-powered, seal-the-deal-over-a-glass-of-champagne Maisie.”
“No. But you don’t need to be.”
Eli’s conviction rang in the cabin. His belief so certain, all but a palpable force arcing between them. He believed it, believed in her, and it was a potent, sensual emotion. Unwavering and enticing. She broke eye contact and traced the plaid pattern on the arm of the chair.
“It’s not about being Maisie. It’s about being you, Tabby. Bringing forth your love of the product. Showing them how distinctive it is, because you pour your heart and soul into it. You help make Brodie the cream of the whiskey world. That’s what he needs to see.”
Tears started on a hormone rush. And it was none of that lone tear crap. Nope, those suckers were chasing each other down her cheeks as if zombies were hot on their heels.
Eli rose and came to kneel beside her. He grabbed her hand and squeezed. “I’ll take the meeting if you want me to.”
She laughed through the tears but choked when the earnestness spilled across his chiseled face. It would be easy to reach out and trace the hard planes. To brush her fingers across lips that knew the right amount of pressure to bring her to the peak. “You’re serious.”
He stood and ran a hand through his hair. “Of course I’m serious. I told you I would do anything you needed.”
He would, and she so wanted him to. But she needed to do this on her own. Prove to herself that she was worthy of the role she was in. Worthy of the belief Eli, and her father before him, had in her. A belief that never wavered. She didn’t deserve it. Not yet. Maybe not ever. And him being here was muddying the waters. How could she tell if she’d done it herself?
She stood. Her vision focused on the man she’d hurt without meaning to. He faced her and smiled. “I’m sorry.”
He reached out a hand, and she glanced at it.
Her vision narrowed. Everything focused onto the offering, the support.
And then nothing.
Chapter Fourteen
“I’m fine.”
Eli growled. If the woman said those damn words to him one more time, he seriously was kidnapping her and putting her under lock and key until the babies were born and she realized that they made a good team.
The ambulance took a tight turn, and Eli braced against the side, refusing to meet Tabby’s gaze. His heart still beat an odd rhythm that had taken up residence since the moment she’d crumpled to the floor like a piece of paper. By the time her blue eyes had fluttered open, he had her on the couch, pillows on all sides, and 911 on the phone.
Her hand sought his, and he squeezed but refused to meet a gaze he could feel on his face. He wasn’t mad. He was terrified. Terrified for her. For the babies. And terrified she would see something. Something even he hadn’t known until that moment.
“Eli?”
The plea in her voice forced his gaze to hers. She was pale. More pale than her typical ivory skin and mixed inside the deep blue of her eyes was fear.
“They’re fine,” he stated, praying he sounded sure.
A tear slid down her cheek, and he wiped it away with his thumb. She searched his face one more time, and he fought to keep his own fear from surfacing. He didn’t know if he’d lied to her. Didn’t know what could hurt a baby or two. She’d hit a hard floor, luckily not hitting her head or landing on anything, but still. She was small, and while curvaceous, she definitely wasn’t carrying around a bubble of cushion.
She closed her eyes, and he held on for dear life as they were driven the last few minutes to the hospital.
Nurses were waiting to unload Tabby and the stretcher. Eli was forced to let her hand go. Tabby’s eyes flew open, and he smiled in reassurance. “I’m right here.”
She nodded and closed them again as she was lowered to the ground.
“Are you the husband?”
Eli met the questioning gaze of a petite nurse. He shook his head.
“I’ll need you to wait—”
“No.”
“Sir.”
“Look, that woman is carrying twins. Babies I’m co-responsible for. I need to know she’s okay. That they’re okay.”
Stark honesty poured out, and the nurse nodded once and turned. He followed and entered a small glass-doored room. Tabby was shifted to a bed and a blood pressure cuff fitted to her right arm.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
Tabby moistened her lips. “I was talking with Eli, and the next thing I knew I was lying on the couch.”
Eli moved beside the bed and recaptured her hand. “She just went down. No warning, no swaying.”
“And how far along are you?”
“Fourteen weeks. With twins.” The tears crept down her cheeks.
Eli leaned close. “You can do this. We can do this. They’re going to check you out and everything will be fine.”
“Morning sickness?”
Tabby nodded.
“Who’s your doctor?”
“Dr. Kitt in Asheville.”
The nurse paused as another one entered, a man pushing a machine with a small square monitor.
Eli moved so the tech could wheel it into the spot he’d stood. Everyone quieted and froze as the young man slid bands underneath Tabby, squirted some gel onto her now-exposed abdomen, and attached two round plastic things. A loud whoosh filled the small room and everyone seemed to release a breath at the same time. The nurse moved one of the circles, and a second offbeat whoosh echoed the first.
Tabby sobbed. Eli rounded the bed, slipping past the nurse, and placed a palm on her tear-stained cheek.
“See. Told ya. You didn’t think Ellises couldn’t withstand a little bump or two, did ya?”
More monitors were hooked up to her, and the nurse reluctantly worked around him as he wasn’t planning on letting her go. At least until he knew she wouldn’t break.
“The doctor will be in shortly.”
“Thank you,” they both answered, and the nurse slid the glass door shut, sealing Eli and Tabby into the room.
Tabby shifted to look at the twin heartbeats rapidly flying across the small screen. Each blue green peak hit Eli square in the chest. It became a song that settled comfortably around him. The babies were okay. Tabby seemed okay.
He squeezed her hand. “Sooo, that was fun.”
She giggled, and some of the tension etched in the
lines of her face slid away. Even with the softness, Eli noticed the pale gaunt cheeks and sallow look under eyes normally bright and full of expression.
“What did you eat today?”
Tabby dropped her gaze and shifted. “I couldn’t keep anything down.”
Eli sat at the end of the bed and grabbed a hand. “When’s the last time you did keep something down?”
Tabby tugged on her hand, but Eli held firm. “Tabby?”
“I’m so sorry. I failed them. I should have known. But practically every woman goes through morning sickness and survives. I doubt they’re passing out and endangering the children. But I don’t know because these aren’t my children. They’re Maisie’s. She would have known. She’s supposed to be here. Why isn’t she here?”
Eli pulled her into his arms, adjusting to accommodate the various cords. He stroked her hair and shushed her until her wracking sobs settled into quiet shakes.
“Honey, you didn’t fail them. You’re fine, they’re fine, and the doctor will help you get through this stage. I just wish you’d told me. Let me be there and help, or hold your hair again.”
She mumbled into his chest, and he pushed back slightly. “What?”
“You’ve done too much already. You’ll be leaving soon, and I can’t depend on you.”
“Tabby, having a partner is not a sign of weakness.”
Large blue eyes blinked at his, searching for something. “You don’t think I can do it?”
He kissed her forehead and settled her back against the pillows, tucking the small blanket in at her sides. “I have no doubt you can do it and could probably be able to write a book about it afterward, in addition to kicking ass at the distillery.” He ducked his head to meet her gaze, now focused on the stark white blanket she picked at. “But just because you can do it doesn’t mean you have to.”
What her verbal response to accompany the longing in her eyes would have been, Eli didn’t get to hear. That moment, the glass door slid open to reveal a doctor, scanning a clipboard.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Fleming.”
Eli stood and shook his hand, wondering where he’d seen the man before.
“How are you feeling? Any pain, tightening in the abdomen, or any headaches?”
Tabby shook her head, her hands resting on the small swell of her stomach.
More questions and examinations and the doctor pronounced Tabby and the babies fine.
“I’ll prescribe you medication to control the nausea and you’ll need to rest for the next couple of days. I would follow-up with your OB then to check the babies. Any questions for me?”
Tabby shook her head, and Eli smiled at her, following the doctor out into the hallway. Once the glass door shut, he asked, “I’m not undermining what I’m sure is a stellar background, but are you sure she’s fine?”
Dr. Fleming laughed. “Really, she’s okay. The babies are pretty small and cushioned at the moment, and she didn’t land on anything or fall down steps. Just keep her resting and find ways to aid the medicine in keeping the nausea under control.”
Eli nodded and shook the man’s hand. “Thank you.”
One more glance and he finally placed the young, black man. “NCAA champion swimmer, right?”
Fleming chuckled and nodded. “100 Fly, three times.”
Eli clapped him on the back. “Never forget a Tennessee champion.”
“Go, Vols,” Dr. Fleming sang.
Laughing, Eli let himself back in. Tabby cocked her head. “Care to let me know what was just said?”
Eli pulled a chair close to the bed and sat, grabbing hold of her hand. “Nothing. Just reassurances for me. A Tennessee champ and alumni can’t be wrong.”
She shook her head and breathed deep. “Did he say how soon I can be out of here?”
“No. But he did say you need to rest. And I plan on enforcing that edict.” He squeezed her hand. “Even if it involves tying you down.”
She searched his face, and a little hint of intrigue on the heels of passion filtered across the pale skin. When the image of her naked and at his mercy formed, he shook his head and cleared his throat. The last thing she needed was him and his lecherous ideas.
“Oh my God.”
“What?” Had he said something about his vision? Was his face that obvious?
She tugged on her hand. “I need my phone. God, what am I going to do?”
“Tabby. Stop. What is it?”
“The meeting with Mr. England. I’m supposed to fly out Tuesday.”
Eli brushed a piece of hair off her forehead and kissed the tip of her nose. Lingering close, he smiled and enjoyed the confusion spilling across her face. “I’ll go for you.”
…
“What?” exploded from her mouth. This whole afternoon was one big fat roller coaster ride of emotions. Hadn’t this all started during a conversation about him helping, of her thinking she needed to do this on her own without his broad back sharing the load? And now he wanted to take a meeting for her, the meeting she knew she needed to do on her own and yet fate was saying, not yet?
He dropped her hand and sat back in the chair, crossing his arms across his chest. “I said I’ll go for you.”
She shook her head. He mimicked her. Finally, after several moistening attempts, she blurted out, “But you can’t.”
“Why not?”
The warning was there in the clipped tones of a voice she normally absorbed to warm and comfort her. But she ignored it. “You know nothing about it or the client or…”
He arched an eyebrow, inviting her to continue. She wisely compressed her lips and let the chaotic thoughts rumble around her head.
“Tabby, I assure you I can handle a meeting. Besides, who else can do it on such short notice?”
She slumped down in the bed. He was right. She shouldn’t be biting the gift horse in the hand. She should be helping him prepare, thanking him for his unselfish offer. Really, she should be baking him a cake and providing him with a cask of whiskey. What is my problem?
Her problem was this was supposed to have been the moment. Or at least one of the moments where Tabitha Brodie proved she was worthy of being head Brodie. Taking over the meeting of a client that could transition the distillery into a whole new playing field. The moment had been taken away by default.
He smiled, and butterflies pounded in her stomach, demanding to be free. That was her other problem. Not only was he Eli, her crush for as long as she could remember, but he was being Eli the friend, Eli the supporter, Eli the lover, and now Eli her rescuer. How would she ever let him go, and yet how could she refuse the help she so desperately needed right now? How could she learn to be who she was supposed to be when his helping hand was always ready to be extended and she didn’t have the strength to say no? Or, in this case, the option?
“You’re right. You’re all I’ve got.” She laughed at his expression, and some of the tension seeped out of the room. “Now buckle up, because you’re about to cram for a meeting that Maisie had been working on for six months.”
Chapter Fifteen
The conference room overlooked some numbered street in New York. Yellow cabs darted here and there only to come up short due to some obstacle. Eli laughed. He knew how they felt. One step forward with Tabby, twenty-two steps back. Turning away from the concrete spectacle, he tugged at his tie, loosening it. The office, the walls, the slick surfaces were hemming in on him, and claustrophobia threatened to choke him. This was the part of business, or at least his parents’ businesses, which had never fit him. The schmoozing. The deals that secretly everyone was trying to one up the other on. He paced down the length of a conference table thirty seats too big for the meeting about to occur.
Reaching the end, he collapsed into the seat and lowered his head to his arms. He could do this. No option available other than to succeed. This wasn’t just
any deal. Not just any moment in his life. This was all for Tabby. For her company, for her peace of mind, and if he was being honest, it was for them. To show her in one more way how they could work together and support one another, even if it wasn’t always easy.
Mumbled words reached him, and Eli stood as a large, impeccably dressed, sneering man came through the conference room door. He met him halfway, smile on his face, hand outstretched, only to have the man stop, cross his arms, and grunt.
“Where’s Ms. Brodie?”
Eli dropped his hand and managed a smile. He’d faced too many skeptical and belligerent people to let it ruffle his cool.
“Ms. Brodie sends her apologies. A health problem prevented her from flying, but I assure you, I’ve been instructed and drilled about the nature of this agreement.” He leaned closer as if imparting a great secret. “She’d have my balls if I didn’t pull through.”
Mr. England let out a booming laugh, clapped Eli on the back, and said, “We can’t have that now, can we?” and made himself at home in a chair.
“We did it.”
“What?”
“Try not to act so surprised, Tabby. I am a business man, just not like my brothers. I have taken a meeting or two before.”
“I know, I’m sorry. It’s just England is such a pain in the ass, I was afraid he would eat you alive.”
“He tried, but let’s just say I was too rich for his taste buds. Anyway, exclusive contract for all thirteen hotels for the next five years.”
“FIVE???”
Eli held the phone away from his abused ear and let the loudly articulated excitement rain over his head. Thank God he was still eight hundred miles away. She may have squeezed him to death in gratitude.
“Are you done?”
“How? Why?”
“If you give my ears a break, I’ll tell you.”
She hummed through the earpiece.
“I just pointed out that a one-year exclusive deal was well and good, but wouldn’t it be great to know customers would be drawn to his hotels over others for a longer time if he signed an extended deal. Because anyone who is anyone knows Brodie is the best, and only the best places would have it.”
His Reason to Stay Page 12
