From mama’s titty baby to hot bourbon guy…little bro hired a good PR rep.
I’M FUCKING DYING.
And my twin brother just comes in with simple, but highly effective, laughter.
Ahahahahahahahahahahahaha
“Just fucking great,’ I mutter to no one.
“Hi, Hot Bourbon Guy!” Miss Bettie calls out to me in a sing-song voice as I walk past the edge of the festival.
I give her a wave. I don’t trust myself to speak.
“Represent!” one of our distillery workers calls out to me. He makes like he’s giving me a fist bump.
“Bourbon is sexy!” yells a mother pushing her baby in a stroller.
Spring has made everyone crazy. It was a long winter.
Thank God today is the last day of the festival.
Tomorrow everything will return to normal.
My phone buzzes. It’s my mother.
You look very handsome in that video.
“Jesus.” I shake my head.
I call my twin brother. “Hey, hottie,” he says.
I can hear the grin in his voice.
“That’s a fucking weird thing to say to me given we’re identical twins.”
“No, it’s not. All those compliments are for me too, really. I’m loving this.”
If he’s baiting me, it might be working. “Can you stop giving me a hard time for three seconds? I need to know what you think we should do about this.”
“Uh, nothing. It’s great free advertising. You didn’t say or do anything stupid. You look and sound like a promotional video for Four Brothers.”
That gives me pause. I lean on the fence that outlines the front of my property. “You don’t think it sounded…self-serving?”
“No. It sounded like you believed every word you said.”
“I do.”
“Then lean into it. We’re a new distillery but people still love tradition, history.”
My jaw unclenches. I can feel my shoulders drop in relief. “Okay. Good. Damn, I thought this might be really bad.”
“Not at all.”
Instantly, it occurs to me that I need to go back to the diner and apologize to Winnie for taking off the way I did.
“What?” Ian asks.
“I didn’t say anything.”
