Page 20 of My Grape Crush
Nicole isn’t easily riled is the impression I get. If a term could define a person, she has a lock onno-nonsense. And I still feel her less-than-impressed look from earlier.
“I’ll check in with you later, okay?” Dani touches my shoulder and excuses herself.
With the best part of brunch striding away, some shine comes off my morning.Evelyn reminds me to eat, and I help myself to the buffet, including a handful of cherries. The idea of feeding them to Dani while her tongue wraps seductively around the firm flesh becomes a disturbingly clear picture in my mind.
And here I thought her pearls were the only thing to torment me.
Evelyn helps herself to eggs and bacon with a look of relief. “Good thing Dani’s on this. Nothing will fall through the cracks.”
“Those labels are next level,” I say. “I’m telling you right now, they’re going to hit.”
“Don’t tell Dani I said this,” Evelyn starts, her voice dropping low as she leans across the table, “but thank god she split with her jackass boyfriend. You know what they say? Heartbreak always fuels the best creativity. Just ask Taylor Swift.”
I immediately feel better, and a little lighter in my soul. Dani made me suffer before she accepted my friend request this morning. As soon as she did, I skimmed through her feed to check for dudes. Not a man in sight, thankfully. Her posts were the usual random assortment of photos—her in and around Vancouver and a few snaps of her blonde sister, who, while cute, is nowhere near Dani-level beautiful.
My unspoken rule? Never post photos of the women I’ve dated. Number one, my phone would burst into flames from the onslaught of enraged DMs from fans. Number two, inevitably the run is short-term—me having to flee another Crazy. Why bother capturing those fleeting memories?
“By the way,” Nicole waves a finger at Evelyn, “I ran into Tomas at the drugstore yesterday. He followed me like a shadow, grumbling about our ‘douchebag clients who buy cliché wine.’ That you and I have bribed our way to success.”
Evelyn shakes her head in a way that indicates a long, painful topic she’d rather avoid. “He’s a walking tragedy, bitter until the day he dies. Even though he’s technically family, sometimes I wish he would drop off the face of the earth.”
“Who are you talking about?” I ask.
“My first husband’s brother,” Evelyn says tiredly. “Tomas was the runt of the litter and lost his marbles when his family’s estate was transferred to my husband, and, by default, me. The eldest child always takes over the farm. That’s how it works.”
“He’s been on a multi-year mission to take Evelyn down,” Nicole adds. “So far, unsuccessful.”
“That doesn’t stop him from trying.” Evelyn grunts her disgust, and I can tell this is more than a sore spot. Bad blood usually is. “And how dare he suggest we’re some shoestring operation hawking snake oil. Nicole,” she says to me, “is a magician. When you step into her kingdom on Tuesday, you’ll understand. Our wines win awards because of her.”
I absorb that for a long moment. “If you don’t mind me asking, why did you hire me? Sounds like you have the business under control.”
Nicole takes over from here. “Pink Pearl is a newer addition to our collection. We want to make a big splash with it. Last year’s vintage, what we’re selling now, is a dream. The balance is exquisite. My gut says we can sweep all the awards, and a little celebrity endorsement never hurts.”
Her first friendly smile lands with an understanding. “Got it. I position this as the best thing since sliced bread. Cheers to that.”
Nicole and Evelyn lift their wine glasses to touch mine.
“I have a good feeling about our partnership,” Evelyn says warmly. “And I’m so glad you and Dani have bonded.”
Am I imagining the sparkle in the light blue of her eyes? During our meet and greet yesterday, Evelyn mentioned a third husband who had lied about wanting children and apologized by way of a massive inheritance when he passed. After a hysterectomy—a little TMI for me—the daughter she longed for remained forever a pipe dream.
When Dani emailed her out of the blue, Evelyn admitted it struck her as kismet. She felt an immediate kinship with Dani.
No matter how tough a business cookie she is, Evelyn’s latent mother mode has inadvertently frothed to the surface. I suppose she sees me as a viable contender to ensure her (makeshift) daughter falls into good hands because the nugget of information she supplied about Dani’s ex felt like the equivalent of her handing me the baton.
Only a fool wouldn’t run with that intel.
Chapter Seven
DANI
I pullup to Rhys’s villa the next morning at seven. He’s waiting on the porch, earbuds in, grooving to the music. A tiny hit of adrenaline hits me when I stare at him. He looks like an ad for a premium Greek vacation, skin an impossible shade of creamy mocha. All that tanned glory showcased in a mesh tank top faded to a soft violet.
He is a living, breathing example of how to glow up.
A half smile plays around his mouth as I park and lower my window. He pops out his earbuds, pockets them, and glides forward.
“Morning,” I say.
