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Broken Miles

Page 3

by Claire Kingsley


  “Threatening foreclosure,” Leo said. “I don’t have all the numbers, but we must owe a lot of money for it to have gone this far.”

  “Is that true?” Mom asked, turning to my dad.

  “Yes, but I’m working on some things,” Dad said.

  “How could you let it get this bad without telling me?” Mom asked.

  It was a very good question. My brothers and I stayed quiet and waited to see if Dad would answer.

  “I have it under control,” Dad said, grinding out the words through clenched teeth.

  I forced myself to pause before I spoke. The younger me would have made a sarcastic remark, but it only would have sparked a pointless argument. I’d spent half my life arguing with my father. Right now, I didn’t need to be Roland the son, I needed to be Roland the businessman. The guy with solutions, who could make financial miracles happen. Because if the bank was threatening foreclosure, that’s what Salishan Cellars needed—a miracle.

  “The first thing Salishan needs is stability,” I said. “Let me use my connections with the banks to take the edge off.”

  “Roland—”

  “Dad,” I said, cutting him off, my voice smooth and even, “you run things like usual while I stop the hemorrhaging. I can buy you some time.”

  He cast a quick glance at Mom, then looked at me again and nodded.

  “I’ll need a couple of days,” I said. “And I can take a look at the books to see what else I can do.”

  “I don’t think so,” Dad said. “It’s one thing for you to call in a favor with the bank. It’s quite another to give you access to all our confidential financial information.”

  “Lawrence,” Mom said, “he’s our son.”

  “Our son who doesn’t work here,” Dad said.

  Don’t react. This was business. I wasn’t going to let him make it personal. “I can put a bandage on the wound. But it’s only going to start bleeding again, and you’ll be right back here in six months.”

  “Let him help,” Mom said. “We can’t lose this land, Lawrence. We can’t.”

  I hated the fear in my mom’s voice. This place had been in her family for generations. Thankfully, my brothers held their tongues. If one of them started in again, they’d all wind up yelling, and we’d never get anywhere.

  Come on, Dad. Do the right thing.

  “Fine,” Dad said. “I’ll get you what you need tomorrow. I have too much to do this afternoon.”

  I kept my face still despite the flare of annoyance. Tomorrow. That meant today was half wasted. “Okay.”

  Dad’s eyes darted around to everyone again, and Leo met his gaze without flinching. I had to respect that. Standing up to our father had never been easy.

  “I have to get going,” Dad said. Without another word, he walked out the door.

  Leo got up and squeezed Mom’s shoulder before leaving. She touched his hand and thanked him. Cooper hugged her and kissed her forehead, then nodded to me.

  Mom didn’t get up, so I waited while Cooper shut the door behind him.

  “I can’t believe he didn’t tell me,” she said.

  “He was hoping he could fix it and you wouldn’t have to know.” I didn’t particularly want to defend my dad, but that was probably the truth. “He doesn’t want you to worry about the business side of things.”

  “I should worry about the business side of things,” she said. “I’ve always let him handle it, but I should be more involved.”

  “Well, maybe now you can be,” I said. “This gives you a good reason.”

  She nodded. “You can use one of the offices upstairs in the Big House while you’re here.”

  “Sure, thanks.”

  “Do you want to stay at the house with us?” she asked. “Or use one of the guest cottages?”

  “I was just going to check into a hotel in town.”

  She scowled at me. “Roland, you do not come home and stay at a hotel in town. Especially not when we have so many unused beds right here. You don’t have to stay at the house, but at least use the Hummingbird Cottage. It’s all made up and ready.”

  That was my mom for you. I was thirty-one years old, and she was still trying to mother me. The winery grounds had several guest houses, all with corny names like Hummingbird Cottage. My grandmother had insisted every building have a name, and the guest houses were decorated inside to match. They’d been built for paying guests, but Salishan had gotten out of the overnight hospitality business years ago. Now they were used for family and other guests who came to visit.

  I didn’t really want to stay on the property, but if it would make my mom happy…

  “Hummingbirds it is,” I said.

  She smiled and put her hand over mine. “Thank you for coming. I’m glad you’re here.”

  I cleared my throat to suppress the flare of emotion that stole through my chest. “Don’t worry, Mom. You guys aren’t going to lose the winery. I won’t let that happen.”

  Her eyes shimmered with tears, but she swallowed them back and sat up straighter. “No, we’re not. I won’t let it happen, either. Let me know what I can do to help. Even if it’s just running interference between you and your dad.”

  I nodded. Keeping space between me and my dad would be better for everyone.

  But I wouldn’t be here for long. I kissed my mom, then went out to grab my stuff and take it over to the guest house. I needed to get set up in that empty office. I had a shit-ton of work to do.

  Four

  Roland

  A week. I’d been here an entire fucking week. I hadn’t spent this much time in Echo Creek since I was married to Zoe.

  God, why did I choose her as my metric? It couldn’t have been since I lived here, or since college? I had to measure things in terms of my ex?

  I didn’t know why she was on my mind. I’d barely seen her.

  Since I’d convinced Dad to let me dig in and help with the finances, I’d been spending most of my time in what Cooper was now calling Roland’s office. I reminded him daily that it wasn’t my office. I had an office, in a high-rise building in downtown San Francisco. With a great fucking view. And an assistant sitting at a desk outside my door who had been madly rearranging my schedule as my quick trip home stretched out indefinitely.

  I was still doing my actual job, just from here. All I needed was wifi, and thanks to Leo, the internet here was reliable. But between conference calls, answering emails, and basically trying not to sabotage my career, I was buried in the disaster that was Salishan Cellars.

  And Zoe? I didn’t know where she was most of the time. I could hear her come and go. Her office was two doors down from where I was sitting. But when she was in there, she kept the door closed. And the rest of the time, she was out and about, doing her thing. Always busy.

  Or maybe avoiding me.

  I needed to quit thinking about her.

  My phone buzzed, vibrating against the table. I pushed my laptop aside and checked. My brother.

  Cooper: Stop working. Come drink.

  Me: Thanks, I’m good.

  Cooper: Not acceptable. Get your ass down here.

  Me: Where?

  Cooper: Mountainside Tavern

  I stared at my phone, waffling between telling him no, and sucking it up and going down there. I had a lot of work to do, but if I didn’t, he’d probably keep bugging me.

  And there was a small part of me that was glad for the invite. Glad to be included, like I still belonged here.

  Me: Fine.

  I saved the files I’d been working on and closed my laptop. The time caught my eye. Was it really after ten? I hadn’t realized it was so late. I guess I’d done enough for one day.

  Cooper was indeed at Mountainside, in a booth with Chase. The winery had a serious cash flow problem, but I’d made sure Chase had been paid about a third of what they owed him. We’d get him the rest, it would just take a little time. But like Leo had said, this was Chase. It was personal.

  Coop raised his beer to me,
then glanced over his shoulder and waved to get the bartender’s attention. “Good man. Come. Sit. Order a beer. Take a load off.”

  I took a seat across from Chase. His dark hair was slicked back, like he’d been wearing a baseball cap all day. Even though he was eight years out of high school and no longer playing school sports, he hadn’t gone the way of a lot of the guys around here, who had beer guts before they were thirty. Like Cooper, Chase kept in good shape.

  “Thanks again,” Chase said. “For helping get shit under control.”

  “Yeah, no problem,” I said. The bartender came to the table and I ordered a Mack and Jack’s African Amber. “We’ll get things squared away with you as soon as we can.”

  “This whole thing still pisses me off,” Cooper said. “I was basically stiffing you. Such bullshit.”

  “It’s not like you sign the checks,” Chase said. “Are things really as bad as people are saying?”

  “What people?” I asked.

  Chase shrugged. “Word around town is that Salishan is pretty much screwed. On the brink of closing.”

  “Hell no,” Cooper said. “The fucking bank will have to haul my cold dead corpse off that land before I’ll leave it.”

  It was weird, but I realized the vehemence in Cooper’s voice wasn’t for show. He wasn’t exaggerating. I had a sudden vision of him standing at the entrance to the property with a double-barreled shotgun in his hands, guarding the family land. In some ways, Cooper had been born in the wrong era. He should have been a homesteader back in the Wild West.

  “It’s not going to come to that,” I said.

  “Don’t listen to those assholes, anyway,” Chase said. “Gossipy bitches.”

  Things were bad. That was true enough. And after a week of trying to get a handle on things, I still didn’t know what they needed to do about it.

  “No Leo tonight?” I asked.

  Chase paused, his beer partway to his mouth, and Cooper cleared his throat.

  “Uh, no,” Cooper said. “Leo doesn’t leave the property.”

  He said that like I was an idiot for not knowing.

  “He doesn’t go anywhere?”

  “Nope,” Cooper said. “Hasn’t left once since he came home.”

  “How is that possible?” I asked. “He’s been home for three years, hasn’t he?”

  “Yeah, and he hasn’t left the property in three years,” Cooper said.

  I could tell Cooper was getting annoyed with me, but this was freaking me out. “That can’t be right. How does he get groceries, or go to the doctor? How did he get all his ink done?”

  “He orders shit online,” Cooper said. “And has people come to him. I’m telling you, Leo hasn’t set one foot off Salishan land since he came home.”

  How did I not know that? “Shit,” I said.

  Chase’s eyes widened, and he grabbed a baseball cap from the seat next to him, then shoved it on his head and pulled the brim low.

  Cooper snort-laughed. “Dude, isn’t that Shelly?”

  “Shut the fuck up,” Chase hissed.

  “Wait, did you hit that?” Cooper asked. “When?”

  Chase scowled. “A few weeks ago.”

  I glanced over at the bar. A pretty blonde wearing an off-the-shoulder red shirt and skin-tight jeans stood chatting with the bartender.

  “She’s cute,” I said. “What’s the problem?”

  Chase hunkered down lower in the booth. “Nothing. It would just be better if she doesn’t see me.”

  “So you’re saying you don’t want me to get her attention?” Cooper asked.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” Chase said.

  Cooper snickered.

  “Look, I hooked up with her a few times, and it was cool,” Chase said. “But I’m not into the whole relationship thing, so I called it off. She wasn’t thrilled about that.”

  “We should see if she’ll throw a drink in his face,” Cooper said.

  “Fuck you, dick,” Chase said. “I just don’t want to hurt her feelings or whatever.”

  “Admirable,” Cooper said. “I’ll let it stand.”

  The girl in red—Shelly, apparently—walked past our booth. Chase twisted in his seat and pretended like he’d dropped something. I couldn’t help but laugh. Cooper and Chase had been like this since we were all kids. Always giving each other shit. Now they had well-earned reputations as Echo Creek’s resident playboys. I kept wondering when they’d outgrow it, but they both seemed happy to keep living the single life. Maybe they just hadn’t found the right girls to settle them down.

  Movement caught my attention from the corner of my eye, and I glanced over. There was a couple sitting at the bar who hadn’t been there a moment ago. I didn’t know the guy, but I did a doubletake when I saw the girl. Was that Zoe?

  “What’s up?” Cooper asked. He leaned over me to look, then muttered oh shit under his breath. “Sorry, man. I didn’t know she’d be here.”

  “It’s fine,” I said.

  Chase raised his eyebrows at Cooper.

  “Knock it off, assholes,” I said. “I’ve seen her around a bunch of times. It’s not a big deal.”

  I had seen her around, and it hadn’t been a big deal. But it had just been her. Now she was with some guy? Who the fuck was he? Not that I gave a shit who she was with. I had no right to care.

  But seriously, who was he?

  “That’s Van.” Cooper said.

  Ah, hell, was it that obvious what I’d been thinking? “What?”

  Cooper nodded toward the bar. “The guy with Zoe. His name is Van.”

  What the fuck kind of name was Van? “I didn’t ask.”

  “Yeah, but you wanted to know,” Cooper said.

  “I just didn’t know Zoe was dating anyone,” I said, trying to sound casual. Because I was. I didn’t care.

  “She’s not really dating him,” Cooper said. “He’s just her boycycle.”

  “Boycycle?” I asked.

  “You know,” Cooper said. “They’re friends, but she takes him for a ride once in a while.”

  That was weird. It didn’t sound like Zoe.

  Chase laughed. “That’s not a thing. You made that up.”

  “It’s definitely a thing,” Cooper said.

  “If that’s a thing, I’m down to be someone’s boycycle.” Chase took another drink, then set his beer down. “Especially if she’s as hot as Zoe.”

  “Knock it off, asshole,” Cooper said. “Zoe’s off limits.”

  “I know,” Chase said. “I said as hot as Zoe. I didn’t say Zoe. Even you have to admit, Zoe is hot as fuck.”

  “No shit,” Cooper said, and I shot him a glare. “What? It’s just the truth. Any man can see she’s hot.”

  “I bet your spank bank is full of Zoe pics,” Chase said. “Do you take them at work when she isn’t looking?”

  I leveled Chase with a stare. I was two seconds from hauling him outside and beating the shit out of him. Not that he couldn’t give me a run for my money. But I was mad enough, I didn’t fucking care.

  “Chase, no,” Cooper said, shaking his head.

  “Too far?” Chase asked.

  “Definitely too far,” Cooper said.

  I picked up my beer and took a long pull, deciding to ignore Chase, and willing myself to not look in Zoe’s direction. What the fuck did I care if she had a boyfriend? We’d been divorced for years. I’d moved on. I’d been dating Farrah for almost a year. She’d moved on, too. Perfectly normal.

  But I was still fuming inside.

  Cooper and Chase started talking about something else, but I was only half listening. Had Zoe noticed I was here? Was she going to come over and say hi? Oh god, was she going to introduce me to her douchebag boyfriend?

  It made me think about what it would be like to bring Farrah out here. Introduce her to my family. Show her the winery. What would happen when I introduced her to Zoe?

  I could picture it. It would be awkward, but Zoe would be friendly. Hell, she’d probably eve
n be happy for me. So why did a sick feeling spread in the pit of my stomach at the thought of introducing Farrah to my ex-wife?

  I pulled out my phone and checked my messages. I’d texted Farrah to let her know I’d be out of town for a few days, but I couldn’t remember if she’d replied. She hadn’t. That wasn’t too surprising. She was busy, and about the most low-maintenance woman I’d ever known. She didn’t need to talk to me all the time—didn’t need constant reassurance. We often went a week or more without speaking, but it was because we were both busy. She was as career-driven and focused as I was. It was why we worked.

  For a second, I thought about texting her again to see if she was back in town. But I didn’t know how long I’d be out here, so I didn’t bother. I’d see her when I got back to San Francisco.

  Which had to be soon. I couldn’t be away from the office for too much longer. But there was still so much shit to do here. The winery’s financial records were a mess. I was still trying to sort out who they owed money to, and the list kept growing.

  “Quit thinking about work,” Cooper said.

  I blinked. “What?”

  “You’re babysitting your beer and thinking about work,” Cooper said. “Lighten up. When did you turn into such a suit?”

  “Whatever, farm boy,” I said.

  “Your insult game is a disgrace,” Cooper said. “Seriously, I thought I raised you better than that. We need to get something other than half a beer in you, or I’m going to throw your ass out.”

  Cooper got up and went to the bar. He elbowed Zoe, and she punched him in the arm. While Cooper talked to the bartender—rubbing his arm where she’d hit him—Zoe glanced toward our booth. Our eyes met, and she nodded before turning back to whatever-the-fuck his name was.

  And that was it. We were just two people who used to know each other. Nothing more.

  Cooper brought back three shots of whiskey and slid them onto the table. I grabbed one and swallowed it, then snatched Cooper’s before he could drink it. Downed that one, too.

  Suddenly, I didn’t want to be quite so sober anymore.

  Five

  Zoe

 

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