Love In Moments (Love Distilled #2) - Scarlett Cole Page 0,27

seated in a conference room with large windows that faced over a park, Olivia had managed to rein in her emotions.

Terrence, the chief architect on the project, stood at the front of the room next to an enlarged drawing of the side elevation of the events hall. The plan was to renovate this into the new distillery. Then turn the old distillery into a new events hall. “This is the view from the parking lot. By moving the doorway from the long edge of the building to the short edge, you’ll improve the flow of goods, but it will also create a longer, uninterrupted internal wall to run the stills against. It’s obviously cheaper to brick it up, but if you wanted, you could put in large ceiling-to-floor windows so customers could see into the distillery from the lot.”

Olivia studied the drawing. “Given the space isn’t big enough as is, which way do you intend to expand the building? This elevation is right on the edge of the parking lot.”

Terrence nodded. “Yeah, losing the parking lot would be the most ideal, but I get why that isn’t practical, especially once the old distillery building becomes the events hall. Our thought is to expand the south end to bring the factory closer to the road. Currently, you get seen from the road, but only when you’re about to turn into the lot. This way, the front of the building is visible from three angles from farther away.”

Olivia turned to Emerson. “That would be perfect for marketing space. We could advertise campaigns and events.”

Emerson grinned. “I like it. And am I right in assuming the costs are kept down because the foundation is only affected on the south side?”

Terrence nodded. “Yes. We’re making the building longer, that’s all. Jake took us through the distillery as it stands now, and this works better.”

“It’s actually better because it’s more oblong than square. In the existing building, we have a central corridor with stills on either side,” Jake said. “This way, we’ll have them all in a line with better flow.”

“To be honest, Christopher Cunningham made this suggestion. He’s looking out for you guys,” Terrence said, referring to the owner of the construction company they’d chosen. “He also told me a couple of stories about the three of you when you were kids, hanging out with his two, Cassie and Carter.”

“It’s fair to say we got into quite a lot of trouble,” Jake said.

Olivia grinned. Quite a lot of trouble was a huge understatement. Carter and Jake were the lead mischief makers, and the rest of them just went along for the ride. As adults, when they’d needed building advice, it had been Christopher they’d gone to. He’d been their father’s best friend, and the first to show up after the storm to see how he could help. Carter and Christopher had helped carry her father’s coffin into the church, while Cassie had helped Liv and Emerson pull together his wake.

Terrence and his team took them through other drawings. Artists’ renderings of what the inside of the old building would be like. Different exterior elevations. The roof.

God, the roof. Her nemesis.

“Because the roof was a mix of original glass, polycarbonate sheet, and rusted corrugated metal, it didn’t stand a chance against the storm. And the way repairs had been conducted over the years left instability between joints.”

“Dad,” Olivia muttered, and Emerson reached for her hand. He’d been so concerned after their mother’s death to not leave his three children with a mess, that he’d refused to take on loans to upgrade the distillery beyond emergency repairs. Hence the mismatched roof unable to withstand anything more than a solid downpour.

“To be honest,” Terrence added. “It’s a wonder that the roof hadn’t succumbed to the weight of snow or a storm before now.”

Quiet fluttered between Emerson, Jake, and herself as the words sunk in. What if it had happened while there were people in there, celebrating the happiest day of their life?

Oh, shit. A wave of nausea had Olivia pressing a hand to her mouth. What if someone had been killed? That in and of itself would have been the absolute worst outcome. But god, what if someone had died and they’d had no insurance? They’d have been sued. Her father ruined. And it would have been all her fault.

Olivia stood and hurried to the restroom that she’d seen on the way in, just down the hallway. Flinging the toilet door open, she dry-heaved twice, her stomach