Page 106 of Let It Breathe
“We wanted to hear how things went with the bank,” Larissa said. “Did you get the money?”
Reese sighed and shook her head. “Long story. The short answer is no.”
“Motherfucker,” Axl spat.
“Pretty much,” Reese agreed and leaned against the wall. “Look, I’d love to stay and talk, but I’ve got to go feed all the animals.”
“I fed them all an hour ago—even that little opossum—so you could stay and talk,” Larissa said. “Come on, we need details.”
“Thank you.” Reese sighed. “Do we have a bottle of Pinot open?”
Larissa stood up and headed for the wine bar. “Nothing open, but let me grab a bottle from the ’21 Emerald block. We’ve got a lot of that left.”
As Larissa scurried from the room, Sheila gave Reese a sympathetic smile. “I dropped by to pick Eric up, but he’s still finishing up down at the other cellar. Larissa told me you were with the bank people, so I thought I’d stick around and offer moral support.”
“Thanks,” Reese said. “I suppose I need it.”
“So no luck with the bank fucks?” Axl asked.
“No fuck with the—” Reese closed her eyes. “No luck with the bank fucks.”
Sheila shook her head. “A friend of mine manages a credit union over in McMinnville. If you want, I could try talking to her, see if there’s anything they can do.”
“Thanks, but I don’t think there’s much use,” Reese said. “Word got around fast about the fire, and we’re already mortgaged to the hilt. I don’t think bank loans are the answer.”
“Larissa always goes to those sales pitches with those little-bitty skirts and low-cut blouses,” Axl said. “Seems to work with the wine reps. Maybe we should send her in to talk to investors or bankers or something?”
“Sure,” Larissa chirped, breezing back into the room with a bottle of Pinot under one arm and the stems of four wineglasses wedged between her fingers. “I’m always happy to show a little skin for the sake of the business. Who am I flashing?”
“No one!” Reese snapped. “We don’t need you flashing anyone.” Wincing at the waspishness in her voice, she softened it and tried again. “I don’t think cleavage is the answer here.”
“Depends on the question,” Larissa said as she held out the wineglasses for Sheila to take. “Anyone know where all the corkscrews are? I can’t find a single one.”
“They’re not in the drawer?”
“Nope. The drawer is empty.”
Reese sighed. “What the hell kind of winery can’t open a bottle of wine?”
“Gimme that,” Axl said, snatching the bottle from Reese. “I’ll just shove it in.”
“A phrase no granddaughter ever wants to hear from her grandpa,” Reese muttered.
“You’re lucky I’ve got my hands full or I’d smack you upside the head right now,” Axl said as he used his teeth to peel the foil off the top of the bottle before shoving the cork in with his thumb. Wine splashed down the neck and bits of cork floated inside, but it got the job done.
“There,” Axl said, thunking the bottle on the desk. “All done. Someone pour.”
Sheila lined up the glasses and took the bottle from Axl. “So what’s your next course of action?” she asked. “If sex appeal isn’t the answer, what is?”
Axl snatched a glass. “You want I should rough somebody up?”
“No,” Reese said. “No violence, no cleavage.”
“You’re really not leaving us a lot of options, hon,” Sheila said. “I guess there’s always bribery or bank robbery.”
“I’m in,” Axl volunteered.
“No illegal activity,” Reese interrupted. “We’ll come up with something, but I don’t think we’re on the right track here.”
