Handel replaced the carton, let the door swing shut, and slowly turned toward them. Margaret saw his face change from somber to pleasantly cheerful, obviously for Davy’s benefit. Was that pity she detected in his eyes when he glanced her way? It was hard to say. Her brother was usually very adept at hiding his feelings. After all, he was a lawyer.
“Do I have to? I had a really long day, Kid. Guessing takes energy, and I’m all out.” He slumped playfully against the refrigerator as though he could barely stand upright.
Davy grabbed Handel’s arm and pulled him toward the kitchen table. “Sit down and I’ll tell you.”
“All right.”
Margaret went to the refrigerator and pulled out the package of hamburger patties she’d planned to cook for dinner. Thoughts of what may have transpired between Handel and Agosto blocked out Davy’s conversation at the table. Until Adam Fredrickson’s name came up.
“He had a guitar on his back while he was kicking the ball. Can you believe it? It was cool!”
Handel met Margaret’s eye. “Is that right? Billie’s brother showed up? I didn’t even know she was expecting him,” he said, clearly disappointed that he was out of the loop.
Margaret plopped the burgers onto the preheated skillet and set on a lid. “I don’t think she knew either. I’m pretty sure he conceived the idea for this grand visit on his own.”
Handel’s eyes narrowed at her tone, but he didn’t comment.
So predictable, she thought. He never caused waves. He certainly wouldn’t be first in a pool of criticism that involved his girlfriend’s brother. Chalk up another point for the male brotherhood. She poured a package of frozen corn into a bowl and set it to cook in the microwave. When she looked up he was still watching her, a sad expression on his face.
“Uncle Handel, do you want to see my space station?”
“Sure.” He followed Davy down the hallway.
Alone, Margaret couldn’t keep her thoughts from Agosto, and the reason for his return to California. Davy. Her son would not be a pawn in the hands of that bastard. She wouldn’t allow it. Handel promised, and she knew his word was as solid as Gibraltar. So what wasn’t he telling her?
Davy’s laughter echoed through the house and she smiled, listening. He was her world; why she got up in the morning. She couldn’t lose him. She turned back to the stove and flipped the burgers, her hands shaking with the effort.
“Are you all right?” Handel appeared in the doorway alone.
“What do you think? I’ve been waiting all day for you to call.” She hated the antagonistic sound of her voice, but it’s what she felt. Waiting was not one of her strong points.
“Sorry. I wanted to talk to you in person.” He slumped onto a stool at the counter, but remained silent.
She wiped her hands on the dishtowel. “So how was he?” she asked in a quiet voice.
“Same obnoxious little… Davy! I thought you were going to work on your space station for a while, buddy.”
Davy stood at Handel’s elbow. “I’m tired of that. I wanted to talk to you.” His expression was openly curious as though he knew he’d come in at an interesting moment. “Who are you talking about?” he asked.
“Nobody,” Margaret said too quickly to be convincing. He was an intelligent boy and more observant than she often gave him credit for. Deflecting the question would probably make him more interested in the answer. But right now she couldn’t deal with the questions that would be sure to follow. Instead she turned away, pretending dinner preparations had her full attention. “Are you hungry? The burgers are almost ready. Set the table for me, kiddo.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Billie led and he followed. Just like when they were kids. Through the neighbor’s hedge or cross-country to California, she was always one step ahead. He trailed her now through the door of the winery and down a sun-brightened hallway. She stopped at an open office door and stepped inside, pulling him along with a tug on his jacket sleeve. A youngish woman occupied the desk, glasses pushed up on her forehead, squinting at a computer screen. Her hair was redder than his own, a flaming bob atop petite features.
“Morning, Sally. This is my brother, Adam. He’s going to check out the books for me. Could you give him access to the computer and whatever he needs? I’ve got to talk to Mario, but I’ll be right back.” She winked in his direction and hurried out the door.
Sally cleared her throat, eyes wide with interest. “So you’re Adam,” she drawled in a teasing tone, as though she’d heard more about him than he’d wish to share.
Had Billie brought up the time his junior high girl friend mowed him down with her bicycle after he broke up with her? Or that he got pummeled with tomatoes during his performance of Hamlet in the school play? “Yep, that’s me.”
She stood up and thrust out a hand. “Welcome to Fredrickson’s. I suppose I can count on you not to cook the books or try to murder your sister.”
He shrugged. “I promise not to cook the books, but I can only give you a definite maybe on the murder thing. One day at a time.”
She grinned. “Good enough for me.”
“So where do you want me?”
The office had two terminals set up, one on Sally’s desk, the other on a card table in the corner of the room. She dipped her head toward the latter. A metal folding chair awaited him. He could already imagine his rear end going numb.
“Don’t look so glum, little brother,” Billie said as she breezed back in. “It’s only temporary. You can have the extra office down the hall as soon as the computer tech gets the wiring set up. He’ll be here tomorrow.”
Adam pulled out the chair and sat. The screen was black. “Got a password for this thing?”
“FredricksonWinery,” Billie and Sally said, nearly in unison.
He raised his eyebrows. “Original. No one would ever think of that.”
“Don’t be so sarcastic. You probably couldn’t come up with anything better. Besides, why would anyone want to break into our computer system?” Billie said, pulling out a file drawer and rifling through a folder.
“I don’t know. Why would some crazy accountant woman try to kill you? Strange things happen in your vicinity.”
A giggle escaped Sally’s lips and Billie glared. “Don’t encourage him.”
The phone rang. Sally picked it up. “Yep. She’s right here,” she said after a minute and held out the phone. “It’s for you, boss.”
Billie took the phone out into the hall. Her voice was muffled but she sounded disappointed. Sally shuffled past him to get a cup of water from the cooler by the door.
“Hear anything interesting?” he asked.
“She’s talking to Handel,” she said, before realizing he was teasing her. She gave him a wry smile. “Sorry. Bad habit. But how else am I supposed to know what’s going on around here?”
Billie stepped around the corner and held out the phone. “If it’s any of your business, I’ll be sure and let you know.”
“If you say so.” Sally returned the phone to her desk and leaned over Adam’s shoulder, her hands on the keyboard. “Here. Let me get you into the books.”
Adam glanced at Billie. “If you’ve got things to do, go ahead. Don’t feel as though you have to hang around and take care of me.”
“Believe me, I have no such feelings. This is the busiest time of year for the winery and I have lots to do. Besides, you seem to be well taken care of. So, see ya!” She waved a hand as she walked out without showing an ounce of remorse.
He straightened and nearly bumped heads with Sally, still hovering over his left shoulder. “Sorry.”
She pressed her face close to his ear and inhaled deeply. “Hmm, fresh Minnesota country boy. I could just eat you up.”
He jerked back so fast the metal chair nearly tipped over.
Sally exploded in laughter and dropped back into her desk chair. “You should see your face! Where’s a hidden camera when you need one?” she hooted.
“That wasn’
t funny,” he mumbled, his face hot with embarrassment. He readjusted the chair and faced the computer screen. “What kind of a wacky place does my sister run here anyway?”
She continued to chuckle intermittently even while she typed. “We have to do something for fun. Watching grapes ferment is a pretty boring pastime.”
When he didn’t respond, she expelled loudly. “All right, I’m sorry kid. I shouldn’t have teased you. But I didn’t know Midwesterners were so touchy.”
He scraped his chair around to face her. “We are not touchy. We are reserved,” he said in a voice typical of his mother. “That type of behavior in the workplace may be called teasing in California. In Minnesota they call it sexual harassment. Ask Billie. I’m sure she dealt with cases all the time.”
“Are you going to turn me in?” Her smile deepened.
“Don’t tempt me.”
*****
"So what's the verdict?"
Adam looked up from the screen. His sister stood in the doorway and Sally was no where in sight. The clock on the wall said it was well past lunch, or maybe that was his growling stomach talking. He stood up and stretched the kinks out of his back.
"You definitely need to make some changes around here. And soon. You can't remain solvent if you're putting out more than you're bringing in. Cutting back on employees may be a short-term option, but by next year if things haven't picked up..." he let the thought hang.
Billie glanced quickly down the hallway and stepped inside shutting the door. "Don't say that so loud. I don't want to spook my people. I can't let anyone go. We're already down to a skeleton crew. The grapes are ready to be harvested and the tasting room is flooded with tourists. I can’t afford to close that down during Crush because we really need the income, but I need everyone’s focus on bringing in our crop. I'll think of something. I have to think of something."
"If Mom knew you were struggling…”
"I'm not asking her for a loan. That's out of the question. Do you know how much leverage she would have over my life if I did?"
The look of panic on her face made him laugh. "Don't worry. I'm not calling her. I just thought it would be easier than going to a bank. She did make a killing last year on that Google stock. I still can't believe I missed my chance." He shook his head.
"It takes money to make money, and you didn't have any to begin with."
"True."
"Hungry? I'll take you out for lunch." She swung the door back open.
"Are you sure you can afford it?"
"No, but Handel can. He invited us to meet him at Herbies at two."
He shut down the programs he was working on and followed her out the door. He was disappointed that Fredrickson Winery was floundering. He'd pinned his hopes on staying awhile, working for his sister, maybe getting some music gigs in the city at night. He'd heard there were lots of clubs and places for a musician to play if they had the right stuff. He was pretty sure he did, he only needed a captive audience to prove it.
Billie didn't talk much on the way to the restaurant. She bit at her bottom lip and seemed engrossed in thoughts she wasn't ready to share. He stared out the window at the vineyards they passed and thought about what he was going to do now. He couldn't ask her to pay him a salary if she couldn't afford the staff she already had. He'd just have to look for a job elsewhere.
Herbies bar and grill had a replica of Disney's lovable old VW Beetle parked in the middle of the restaurant. Some kids had climbed in and sat grinning while their mother took their picture. A knockoff rendition of Rocking around the Clock poured out from overhead speakers, nearly drowned out by the full lunch crowd.
Billie glanced around the restaurant, eagerly seeking the man they were to meet. Her face lit up and she waved. "There he is."
Adam followed her across the room, dodging tables and waiters. He'd been the only man in his sister's life for a long time and although she looked happier than he'd ever seen her, he felt strangely over-protective. He hoped he wasn't turning into a male version of his mother.
Handel stood and kissed Billie then reached past her and shook hands with Adam. "It's good to finally meet you, Adam." He inclined his head toward the woman still seated in a corner of the booth. "This is my sister, Margaret. I believe you've already met."
Margaret's welcoming smile couldn't have been colder if chipped from an iceberg. She lifted her cup of coffee and took a sip, dismissing him as soon as she'd laid eyes on him.
Adam waited for Billie to scoot in next to Handel before taking the remaining seat next to the Ice Queen. He wondered if he'd come down with a case of freezer burn if he got too close. The booth was narrow and his arm grazed hers as he settled in. She pulled back as though he carried the plague, and slid closer toward the wall on her side.
Handel and Billie didn't seem to notice. They were too busy looking into each other's eyes as though they'd been apart for months rather than mere hours. He glanced away and hoped the waiter came quickly to take their orders.
"So, you showed up yesterday and Billie already put you to work, huh?" Handel said.
"Something like that."
Billie smiled. "Adam is a whiz at numbers, he has an accounting degree, and he can even play a mean guitar."
He heard a distinct sigh of boredom from the woman beside him. He turned toward her. "So what do you do, Margaret?" he asked. "Besides, telling men exactly where to go when they stop and ask directions?"
Handel coughed and raised his glass to his lips to cover a grin. Billie was turning a lovely shade of pink and looked like she wanted to punch him in the arm again. Just like old times.
Margaret set her glass down but held his gaze. "Sometimes I help them on their way."
Providentially, the waiter showed up at that moment and encouraged everyone to order the special of the day—the Herbie Burger. When the waiter left, Handel quickly picked up the conversation.
"How long are you planning to stay, Adam? We should take you out on the town some night. It's always fun to listen to the street musicians or attend a concert in the park."
"That would be great, but I'm not really sure what my plans are at this point."
"What do you mean—you don't know?" Billie said, "I thought you were..."
"I changed my mind." He shrugged. "San Francisco is calling my name. Thought I'd answer the call and do a little walk-about."
"Figures," Margaret said, her voice like a jab to his ribs.
Why did this woman's opinion of him matter? He didn't know her from—Eve. When it came to men, Margaret Parker was a cynical shrew. She thought all men were the same and he obviously just confirmed her belief pattern.
"Sorry to disappoint you, but Billie is struggling with the winery and I'm afraid I’d be dead weight around here. She needs someone with expertise at running a winery, not just a number cruncher."
"That's not true, Adam." Billie said, leaning forward, her hands on the table. "You can help me in many more ways than crunching numbers. You’re better at problem solving and coming up with ideas. That's what I need right now. Someone with ideas for change. Cause what we're doing is obviously not working. And don’t worry, I have plenty of hard labor for you when the numbers run out."
"I thought the Time in a Bottle brand was selling well," Handel said, his gaze narrowed on Billie. He covered her hand with his. "Has something else happened since we talked?"
"No. Only the same old thing. It took Adam pointing it out to me this morning that made me see I can't live off of my uncle's wishful thinking, and neither can my employees. Making Fredrickson’s profitable again may be a pipedream."
"You've got to give it time. It can take months, even years, to get your brand out there."
"We don't have years. I'm not sure we even have months. I haven't got enough savings to prop us up that long."
Handel put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "You know I'll help anyway I can."
She nodded. "I know, but you have your own practice to worry about.
What I need is someone with winery experience, fresh money-saving ideas, awesome management skills, winemaking expertise, and a willingness to work for next to nothing."
Margaret cleared her throat, “I have…” she started, but the waiter brought their platters and she fell silent. Adam glanced her way. She seemed nervous, unwrapping her flatware and placing the paper napkin on her lap. She kept her head down, avoiding his gaze.
Billie glanced around at their glum faces after the waiter left. "Wow. I sure know how to shut down a party, don't I? Don't let me ruin your Herbie burgers.” She picked up a fry and dipped it in ketchup.
Adam eyed his burger suspiciously. Back home, a California burger usually had tomato, lettuce, and mayo, but this one had sprouts poking out the sides. He took the top bun off to dissect the innards. Besides sprouts, he found sliced green olives and some kind of unknown sauce, two of his least favorite things. He proceeded to scrap the meat patty with his knife.
“Don’t like our local cuisine?” Margaret asked from her quiet corner.
“Not especially. I’m more of a pizza and tacos kind of guy.” He plopped the top bun back down and picked up the burger. “But I’ll eat most anything.”
Billie laughed. “Yeah, sure. You’ll eat anything Mom cooks or a fast food restaurant serves up in paper wrappers—but anything? I don’t think so.”
“I’m not picky. I’m discerning.” He took a big bite to end the critique of his personal tastes.
“So how’s Davy doing in school this year, Margaret?” Billie asked, switching gears. “I haven’t seen him around much lately.”
“He puts up with it.” Margaret smiled, her face lighting up. “Obviously he only attends class so he can play on the soccer team. He’s bouncing that silly ball off his head every time I turn around.”
“Or building some crazy structure with Legos,” Handel added. “I think he’s going to be a wine-making, soccer playing, architect.”
“Those are quite diverse interests,” Adam said, and took another bite of his burger.
“Well, some of the male species actually use their brains as well as their brawn.”
Crushed (The Fredrickson Winery Novels) Page 3