Cassandra’s eyes widen. “Louis Blackstone has another child outside of his marriage?
Probably, the asshole. I shake my head. “Ivy and Madison have the same mother. Different fathers.” After taking a sip of my coffee, I continue. “We learned Ms. West is an environmental attorney. We’ve hired her to help with our green initiative while she’s staying here and getting the guardianship settled.”
“An environmental attorney,” Cassandra repeats, leaning forward as her eyes narrow like a hunter catching a scent. “That’s an interesting coincidence, given the recent focus on sustainable practices at your distillery.”
“If you say so.” I shrug. “Either way, it’s one I appreciate. She is very good at her job and is a value to Blackstone Bourbon.”
“Such a value that she has moved in with you?”
Ah, there’s the question she’s been waiting to ask. What is Ivy to me?
“I’m letting her and Madison stay with me. It is a good way to get to know my half-sister before she moves to New York.” The thought of their departure makes my chest constrict in a way I refuse to examine too closely.
“Perhaps,” she concedes with a smile that suggests she doesn’t believe me. “But it is remarkable for a man with your... reputation to open your home to guests. The Thorne Blackstone I’ve heard about values privacy above all else.”
I rest my elbows on my knees, bridging the distance between us without moving an inch, weighing my options. The rumors about my past—the drinking, the gambling, the women—have never quite died. Three years isn’t all that long ago, not enough time to drown them. Instead, they lurk beneath the surface.
“I opened my home to my half-sister,” I correct her. “Ms. West’s presence is a natural extension of that.”
“So your relationship with Ms. West is purely... hospitable?” The insinuation in her tone is unmistakable.
Heat rises in my chest, not embarrassment but anger. “I extend hospitality to family,” I let steel pour into my voice. “Madison is my half-sister, and Ms. West is here as her guardian.”
“Of course,” she says. “And Madison, she’s quite young, isn’t she? Fourteen?”
“Yes, as I’ve already said. Which is why we’re protective of her privacy.”
“Understandable,” Cassandra nods. “I would like to speak with her, though. For a more complete picture.”
“That won’t be possible,” I say, shutting down the suggestion. “She’s a minor, and we’re not subjecting her to media scrutiny.”
Cassandra’s light brown eyes narrow slightly. “You’re quite protective of her for someone you’ve only recently met.”
“She’s a Blackstone,” I reply. “Whatever complicated circumstances brought her into our lives, she’s family.”
“If I may ask,” she says, tilting her head, “you've been away for some time, managing operations in Canada. Why return now? Was it purely because of your father’s passing?”
I nod, rolling with the next sudden shift in the conversation. At least this one is reasonable, unlike her previous insinuations.
“My father’s passing made it necessary to handle certain matters in person.” I deliberately leave it vague. Let her assume I mean funeral arrangements and business transitions, not afourteen-year-old half-sister I never knew existed or my growing attraction to her guardian.
“And will you be returning to Canada, or is this move permanent?”
I weigh my answer carefully. “This is not permanent.” Yes, running acquisitions from here would be easier, but besides that, there’s no reason to stay. All I have are the ghosts of my mistakes, waiting to haunt me.
“I see,” she makes another note. “So there’s nothing going on between you and Ms. West?”
The personal question lands like a slap, precisely aimed to provoke. It pokes at my control, and keeping my expression impassive is a fight.
“No,” I reply coolly, refusing to elaborate.
“Forgive me,” Cassandra says, with the sincerity of a whiskey salesman promising sobriety. “There are so many rumors circulating. It’s difficult to separate fact from fiction.”
“Which is precisely why I agreed to this interview. To establish the facts and put an end to speculation.”
She holds my stare for a moment, then glances down at her notes. “Let’s return to your role as head of acquisitions. Given your father’s passing, has there been any discussion of leadership changes within Blackstone Bourbon?”
The pivot is meant to catch me off guard. Again. “No.” In the past, I would have been 100% staging a coup. But no longer.
