Page 31 of The Art of Almost Losing It
“He’s your brother—you must know more than me.” The girl smiles at my half sister.
“Do drinks come with this free brunch?” Hannah asks me.
“They better,” Dani mumbles.
I nod dumbly and signal the waiter.
“Could you bring me a scotch please? The whole bottle.”
“Starting early, huh, kid?” Mom’s joke is tense. I know it’s a red flag—alcohol this early—but I’m done for anyway, so who cares?
“We can only do cognac by the bottle right now, sir.”
“Fine.”
If this is how I go out, I’m not going to be sober.
“Graham, scotch? It’s 8:15 in the morning.” Frank glares. “What has gotten into you?”
“He probably wanted to get laid this morning, and you made him come to a stupid brunch,” Max complains, not looking up from his phone game.
“No phones at the table, and watch your language.”
“Could you just make sure you keep the mimosas coming?” Dani asks the server.
My cognac comes first.
Dani grabs my glass and drains it before I can take a sip.
“I’m thirsty.” She hiccups.
“You could have drunk the tap water,” I hiss at her and grab my glass back. “I really picked the worst—”
My family is staring at us.
I swallow.
“The, uh—” My brain fires blanks.
I’m dead. I’m so dead.
“The worst time to introduce me to cognac,” Dani says brightly. “At first, I didn’t really want to try it. My dad drinks it—he brings it back from Saint-Émilion when he goes in the fall for the art festival they have there. I always thought it was stuffy, but then Graham made me try a sip of the 1922 Réserve Impériale bottle he won at a charity auction. And—hooked!”
“She has expensive taste,” I rasp.
“Sooo,” Hannah drawls, leaning on her hand. “How did you two meet?”
Dani takes a long swallow of her mimosa. “We, um, well, we—”
“There was a—”
We look quickly at each other. Then Dani turns away.
“Good morning! Sorry we’re late!”
Thank god for Claire.
“You’re actually on time.” Ryan kisses her. “We’re all early. Thanks, Dad.”
