Page 120 of Not Safe For Work

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good, because I’d like to discuss the outstanding contract as well.”

“Fuck. You’re a little shark aren’t you.”

Owen takes a deep breath and gives away our hiding spot before I can stop him.

“Hey Ollie, last guest? Should we get going?”

“Sure,” Olivia says. She turns back to Tristan. “Want to head inside?”

“After you.”

“How the hellcan you stand this guy being here?” Owen asks an hour later. While Liv started the tour, I was able to fill in the gaps of the full Tristan debacle.

“I can’t.” Tristan McFuckface hasn’t left Liv’s side once. He isn’t doing anything outwardly inappropriate or disrespectful, he’s just always fuckingthere.

She does a barrel tasting, he’s first in line. She walks to the next place, he’s reaching a hand to her back like he’s guiding her or some shit. We’ve spent most of the time in the cave, so whenever I get especially angry, I just picture Liv from last night, propped up on a barrel with her legs wrapped around my neck. It’s the best coping mechanism I’ve come up with so far.

“I need to go help Deacon and Phil set up for the lunch and presentation stuff. You should come with me.”

“Then who will be watching Liv?”

“Nothing’s going to happen with all these people here. I think you’ll feel better if you can’t see them anyway.”

I grunt, not wanting to agree with him even though I know he’s right. “Fine.”

I follow Owen into the chef’s kitchen to see if we’re needed.

Deacon points us to a case of wine. “Just need to open those bottles. Food’s all done. Can you check on Phil, too? He said he set up the projector but he’s an idiot when it comes to that stuff. Guy’s never left the vineyard.”

I grab the case and bring it out to the table so we can pour them into the decanters already laid out.

“Was he serious about your brother?” I ask Owen. “Phil’s never left the vineyard?”

Owen looks thoughtful for a moment. “Not really. Loves the land. We all do though. Ollie’s the only one who hates it here.”

“Hates it? Why would you say that? She loves this place.”

“Could have fooled me.”

Our conversation from months ago comes back to me. Olivia said she was the black sheep in her family. The only one who isn’t an artist. She also told me Owen was the brother she was closest with growing up, but that he was angry at her for moving to the city.

“She does. I think she misses it a lot, actually. At least, she misses you and the rest of your family. I know she’d love to see you more. She just loves the city too.”

Owen narrows his eyes like he’s not sure if he should believe me, but I pin him with a pointed look.It’s true.

“Thanks, man, for telling me that. You’re umm, a lot better than the last one.”

“Not much of a compliment,” I retort. “The last one’s a piece of shit.”

“Amen,” Owen says, handing me a full glass. We clink and down both glasses like we’re chugging beer at a frat party.

Phil is nowhere to be found—“probably out in the vines sniffing soil,” according to Owen—but a few minutes later, we have the projector set up.

Deacon comes out with huge platters of meats, cheeses and dried fruit just as Liv shows up with the rest of the tour group.

“Sit wherever you like,” she says to the group. “My brother, Deacon, has prepared lunch for us and we’re starting with some of my favorite charcuterie. All the cheeses are local to northern California. If you fall in love with any of them, let me know and I can tell you where to find it.”

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