Page 16 of Let It Breathe
Reese nodded. “It’s a little different now than in college. I got licensed through the Department of Fish and Wildlife to rehabilitate small animals a few years ago, so I’m all certified.”
“Oh, good. I’ll phone the police and let them know they don’t need to send the SWAT team after all.”
Reese laughed and tilted the bottle to get a better angle. “I still have that raccoon you brought me. The one you found on the side of the road that spring?”
“He’s still alive?”
Reese nodded, keeping her eyes on the baby opossum as he greedily emptied the bottle. “He mostly lives in the woods now. Axl taught him to fetch.”
“Fetch what, his bong?”
“Don’t give him any ideas.”
Clay grinned. “Your family’s looking good. June and Jed haven’t aged a bit, and Larissa’s really grown up.”
“Yeah, she’s become quite the PR whiz. She’s been chasing down this wild idea about getting us into a documentary on women in the wine industry.”
“Good for her.” Clay smiled. “You’ve done well for yourself.”
“I—yes. Thank you.” She focused on the baby opossum so she wouldn’t be tempted to blurt something stupid about how she missed him or felt proud of him. What did you say to a recovering alcoholic, anyway? Especially one whose gaze made you lightheaded and stupid and tingly all over.
She scratched the tiny animal and commanded herself not to think about that damn tingle. She’d been trying for years, and she’d even succeeded for a while.
Despite what Larissa said about the lack of chemistry between her and Eric, she’d been determined to make that marriage work. She’d shoved aside all her doubts and fears and unwelcome feelings about Clay, and she’d flung herself headfirst down that aisle with the absolute certainty she was doing the right thing in marrying her best friend. She’d been brimming with hope and determination and a love that sure as hell seemed like the right sort of love at the time.
How was she supposed to know there were so many kinds?
She could still feel Clay’s eyes on her as she set the empty bottle on her desk and stroked the opossum under the chin. When he spoke, his voice was low and soft.
“I’m proud of you, Reese,” he said. “Not just for the animal rescue stuff, but everything you’ve done with the vineyard.”
She looked up at him and nodded. “Thank you.” She felt warmth pool in her belly. It was possible the opossum had just peed on her, but more likely it was the effect Clay had on her. She turned and tucked Oscar in his cage before facing Clay again.
He was sitting with his hands folded on the desk in front of him, just watching her. She nodded at his clipboard. “Ready to talk business?”
“Absolutely.” He smiled. “This is a pretty ambitious project you’re taking on. The wine tourism thing?”
Reese shrugged. “We’ve gotten flak from some of the other wineries—especially Dick, the guy you just met from Larchwood Vineyards. It’s the whole ‘we’re not in this to make money, we’re in this to make wine’ thing a lot of vineyard owners like to say.”
“And what’s your take on that?”
Reese shrugged and picked up her letter opener. “We already make great wines. Doesn’t do us much good if no one knows that.”
“Good point,” Clay said, leaning back in his chair in a way that pulled his T-shirt snugly across his chest. Reese tried not to stare. “So how does the rest of the family feel about the big expansion?”
Reese began to roll the letter opener between her palms. “They’re all really supportive—Mom, Dad, Axl. We’ve been taking it slowly, starting up a wine club that’s been really successful, holding events and tastings. This event pavilion is sort of the next big step.”
She shut up as she realized Clay’s eyes were fixed on her hands. She stopped rolling the letter opener between her palms and waited.
Clay gave a nod that seemed to signal a change in tone, and Reese braced herself for whatever was coming next.
“Let’s talk numbers, shall we?” he said.
“Yes, let’s,” Reese agreed, annoyed by the formality in her own voice. She began to roll the letter opener again, comforted by the curve of it against her palms.
“You want the good news or the bad news first?”
“Good.”
