The Angels' Share (The Bourbon Kings #2) - J. R. Ward Page 0,51

and the family chef had outdone himself.

Edward, however, had managed to ruin it for her. If that man stayed up nights trying to get under her skin, he couldn’t do a better job.

Dagney was not interested in her. That was crazy.

“So …” The governor eased back in the Queen Anne style chair to Sutton’s right. “I think we should all thank Miss Smythe for her hospitality.”

As coffee cups were raised, Sutton shook her head. “It’s been my pleasure.”

“No, it’s been ours.”

The governor smiled at her, and God help her, all she could hear was Edward’s voice in her head. And that led to other things, other memories. Especially of the last time she had gone to see him when they had—

Stop it, she told herself.

“We missed your father tonight,” the governor said.

“Yes, how is he?” the Reverend Nyce asked.

Sutton took a deep breath. “Well, actually, you all will hear the details tomorrow, but he’s stepping down. And I am replacing him as CEO.”

There was a momentary lull, and then Dagney said, “Congratulations and condolences at the same time.”

“Thank you.” She inclined her head. “It’s a complicated time personally, but professionally, I know exactly what I’m doing.”

“The Sutton Distillery Corporation could not be in better hands.” The governor smiled and toasted her with his decaf. “And I look forward to presenting you with some of our new tax code proposals. You’re one of the biggest employers in the state.”

It was strange, but she could feel the shift toward her, the people at the table, even the governor, regarding her with a different focus. She’d sensed it first at the finance committee meeting this morning, and then when she’d interacted with senior management throughout the day. Positional power, it was called—and with the torch changing hands, the respect her father had been paid was now hers by virtue of her promotion.

“And this is why I asked you all here,” she said.

“I would have come happily for the dessert,” the Reverend Nyce said as he gestured to his clean plate. “That was evidence of the good Lord, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Amen,” Georgetow interjected. “I would ask for seconds—”

“But I would tell his doctor,” Beryline finished for him.

“She is my conscience.”

Sutton waited for the laughter to die down, and then she found herself fighting back tears. Clearing her throat, she composed herself.

“My father means the world to me.” She looked up to the portrait of him that hung on the wall on the opposite end of the room. “And I would like to recognize his contributions to this state and the community of Charlemont in some significant ways. After much thought, I would like to endow a chair at the University of Charlemont in economics in his name. I have a check for five million dollars to that end, and I am prepared to gift that amount tonight.”

There was a gasp from the president—and with good reason. She knew damn well gifts that big didn’t come in every day to the university, and certainly not without considerable plying and cultivation on their part. Yet here she was, tossing it into his lap. After his favorite dessert.

Georgetow sat back in his chair. “I am … I had no idea—thank you. The university thanks you for this, and it will be an honor to have his name further associated with the school.”

There would also be a similar endowment set up at Kentucky University, not that she was going to bring that up at this dinner: She and her family were KU fans when it came to basketball—something that, again, wasn’t spoken about around Georgetow.

Sutton looked at the Reverend Nyce. “My father is not a religious man, but he respects you unlike any other man of God in the state. I would therefore like to endow a scholarship fund for African-American students in his name to be administered by you. It will cover the tuition and books of any Kentucky state school.” She jokingly put her hand up to Georgetow. “And yes, even Kentucky University. We need more skilled workers in the Commonwealth who are committed to establishing and keeping their careers here. Further, my father has long had a commitment to the underserved, particularly in the West End. This will help.”

The Reverend Nyce reached over and took her hand. “The sons and daughters of the five-oh-two thank you and your family for this generosity. And I’ll make sure this opportunity is shepherded well in your father’s name.”

She squeezed his palm. “I know you will.”

“Steer them

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