Page 7 of Bourbon Girl, Part 3

I SAT in a panel discussion in a large white tent that offered blessed refuge from the afternoon sun, though the canvas walls did little to muffle the festival's cheerful cacophony outside.

Folding chairs arranged in neat rows faced a modest stage where five industry experts sat behind a table draped in Kentucky Bourbon Festival banners.

I balanced my notebook on my knee, pen poised to capture insights that might improve my tour presentations.

Beside me, Jett sat with his arms crossed, looking mildly skeptical about the entire proceedings.

His dark hair was slightly damp with perspiration, and I was hyperaware of the warmth radiating from his body.

"Flavored bourbons represent the fastest-growing segment of our industry," announced the moderator, a distinguished woman from the Kentucky Distillers' Association. "Today we'll explore how these innovations are attracting new consumers while honoring traditional craftsmanship."

The panelists introduced themselves in turn—a master distiller from a craft operation, a marketing executive, a retail buyer, a flavor chemist, and Tom Feldon, Agricultural Liaison.

Tom had the kind of weathered face that spoke of years spent outdoors coordinating between distilleries and the farmers who supplied their raw materials.

"One of the most exciting developments we're seeing is honey-infused bourbon," Tom said when his turn came to speak. "The natural sugars and floral notes complement bourbon's vanilla and caramel characteristics beautifully."

I scribbled notes about flavor profiles and consumer demographics, genuinely fascinated by the technical aspects of product development.

The chemistry behind taste preferences seemed almost magical—how certain compounds could trigger emotional responses, how tradition and innovation could dance together in a glass.

"We're particularly fortunate here in Kentucky to work with local apiaries that produce exceptional honey," Tom continued, his gaze scanning the audience. "In fact, we have one of our premier suppliers here today."

My pen stopped moving as Tom's eyes found Jett in the crowd, and a knowing smile crossed his weathered features.

"Jett Flannery from Flannery Apiaries," Tom announced, gesturing toward us. "His wildflower honey took Best in Show at the State Fair, and it's helping us create a sub-category of bourbon that appeals to enthusiasts looking for a sweeter, more approachable profile."

The tent erupted in appreciative applause, heads turning to locate Jett. I watched his cheeks flush with a mixture of pride and embarrassment as he raised his hand in a modest acknowledgment. The recognition was clearly unexpected but deeply gratifying.

I joined the applause enthusiastically, my notebook sliding off my lap as I clapped. The sound of genuine achievement deserved genuine celebration, and seeing Jett recognized for his expertise filled me with an odd sense of vicarious pride.

"You don't have to applaud," Jett murmured as the attention shifted back to the panel, his voice carrying amused self-consciousness.

"I want to," I said firmly, retrieving my fallen notebook. "That's amazing, Jett. Your honey is helping create an entirely new category of bourbon."

Something shifted in his expression—surprise melting into something warmer and more complex. The distance I'd maintained between us seemed suddenly artificial, a barrier I'd constructed for reasons I couldn't quite remember.

"Thanks," he said quietly, his dark eyes holding mine for a moment longer than necessary before we both turned our attention back to the panel.

But I found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on discussions of market penetration and consumer preferences when the man beside me had just been publicly recognized as an innovator in an industry I was only beginning to understand.