Page 143 of Let It Breathe
Clay’s smile turned a little bit sheepish. “You mean one person fucking up royally, doing some jail time, then trying their best to get their shit together?” He planted a kiss on her temple. “Nope. Wouldn’t know anything about that.”
She laughed. “We all take our turn at the royal fuckup. It’s like the line of succession for nobility, but with bad choices instead of inbreeding and relentless paparazzi.”
“True enough.” His gaze moved to the doorway as Larissa waltzed through.
“Hey, guys.” She flipped her hair off her shoulder as she strode toward them in impossibly high heels. “I went ahead and grabbed the guests in cabin two to stand in as extras.”
“Extras?” Reese frowned at the film crew. “Kate didn’t say anything about needing extras.”
“Whoops, sorry!” Hearing her name, the mahogany-haired producer escaped her discussion with the sound tech and hustled over. “Sorry, that’s my bad. I told Larissa the shots would look best if we weren’t filming in an empty tasting room. I asked for a couple casual guests sipping wine.”
“Female guests, since it’s a documentary about women in the wine biz,” Larissa added. “Our pickings are slim on a Wednesday, but these two arrived ahead of the rest of their girls’ getaway group.”
“Oh.” Reese did her best to pivot. She’d been trying to release some control of the business, but it still sometimes blew her mind how take-charge her cousin could be. “You’re sure the guests don’t mind?”
“Positive.” Larissa beamed. “They’re here from Portland and they both work for Belmont Health System and no—stop giving me that look, Reesey.”
“What look?” She could have sworn she’d kept a straight face.
“The look that says you hope I didn’t mention our winemaker’s wife was a nurse at Belmont until she tried to burn down our wine barn, and then she went to jail and changed careers and worked on herself and her marriage, and now we’ve all forgiven her because she’s a really kind human who makes mistakes like the rest of us and?—”
“Stop talking, Larissa.” Reese shot the producer a pained look. “Uh, can we please keep that out of the documentary?”
Kate laughed and stepped back toward her film crew. “Keep what out of the documentary?”
“Relax,” Larissa said as the producer walked away. “Kate’s cool. And so are the guests. Look—there they are now!”
Reese turned to see two women come through the door. The tall redhead wore a pretty yellow sundress, while the shorter brunette sported a svelte green jumpsuit and a curious expression. Reese watched the two women survey the tasting room, taking in details she’d agonized over during construction. The rustic beams of the ceiling, the hammered copper light fixtures, the bistro tables fashioned from old wine barrels. Reese especially loved the huge picture windows framing the views of the vineyard she’d called home her whole life. All of it—the entire pavilion, really—was breathtaking.
Clay had truly outdone himself.
As the two guests approached, Reese put on her game face. “Hello, and welcome to Sunridge Vineyards.”
“Hey, sorry we’re early.” The brunette extended her hand. “Jenna McArthur. This is Mia Dawson. We’re excited to be here.”
“Reese Clark.” She shook the woman’s hand, impressed by a grip that felt both warm and firm. “Thank you for stepping in. I hope it’s not too much of an imposition.”
“Are you kidding?” The redhead—Mia?—laughed. “This is fun. We’ve never been in a film before.”
“I’m a big fan of your wines,” added Jenna. “Especially last year’s reserve Pinot from the Sunset Block.”
Reese smiled. “That’s one of my favorites, too.”
Mia rested an elbow on the copper bar top. “Just an FYI, I’m pregnant.” She darted a look at Larissa. “You said it’s okay if I have juice or something for filming?”
“No problem.” Larissa looked at Reese. “She’s the DD for the rest of the group arriving tomorrow, but it shouldn’t be an issue having her sit on the opposite side of the camera for the shoot.”
“Sure, that’s great.” Reese had to give props to her cousin for handling things. And really, the empire waist sundress hid the pregnancy well, or maybe she wasn’t that far along. “We appreciate you ladies helping out.”
“We’re glad to,” Jenna said. “I work in PR like Larissa, so when she told us about the project and how it’s great publicity for the vineyard—” She tipped her head toward Reese’s cousin. “Well, it’s a fun opportunity. Anything to help put the best spin on the story, right?”
“Right.” Reese felt herself relax. “Sounds like ‘Riss found the perfect guests for the job.”
“We’ll do our best.” Jenna’s eyes slid to Clay, and Reese braced for the ogling. If she had a nickel for every tasting room guest whose gaze lingered over those biceps, she could fund another construction project.
But Jenna just blinked in surprise. “Why do you look so familiar?”
Clay cleared his throat. “I did a testimonial for Belmont. Some PR campaign for the rehab center where addicts talk about how great life’s going now that they’re sober.” With a confident smile, he dropped an arm around Reese’s shoulders. “And it just keeps getting better.”
