Page 7 of A Little Bit Whiskey
“Look at what the cat dragged in,” his father said.
His mom didn’t even lift her head.
That couldn’t be a good sign.
“Sorry I didn’t come help at Silas and Claudia’s place this morning. I didn’t see the text until later.” He reached for a mug and poured a cup of steaming brew. His dad always made the best. It was strange because it was just regular coffee, but it tasted better than anyone else’s.
“Really wasn’t much any of us could do,” his dad said.
“I feel bad for Claudia.” His mom peered over her screen. “It’s going to put her grand opening back and it means the Holiday Showcase won’t be held there.” His mother smiled. “Looks like I’m going to have to step up to the plate.”
“She’s been working on that all morning.” His dad rolled his eyes. “Nothing I say or do will stop her now. Not even your brother’s wedding.” He glanced at his watch. “Which is supposed to start in less than two hours, but everyone seems to be running late, including the bride and groom.”
“Until everyone gets here, I’m going to work on the showcase.” His mother adjusted her reading glasses. “Mrs. Cummings is already putting her two cents in, but ifthat womanthinks she can muscle her way intomy showcase,she’s got another thing coming.”
“Toss Mrs. Cummings a bone,” his father said. “If you don’t, she’ll be up your ass—and mine—until next year.”
“No way. Give her an inch, and she’ll try to take a mile.” His mother shuffled some papers. When his mom got like this, there was no reasoning with her or trying to talk her into anything.
Shit. Telling his folks now about Nebbiolo running off, or that he was dating Tamsyn, would cause a shock wave that would send his mother to the moon and back.
But he had no choice. It had to be done.
“Mom, can you put that stuff away for a few minutes? I need to talk with you and Dad. It’s important.”
His mother lowered her chin and peered over her glasses. She glanced between his dad and back to him before closing her laptop. “That sounds ominous.”
“It kind of is,” he admitted, raking his fingers through his hair. “I’m not sure where to start. There are two pieces of information that I’m not sure how either of you are going to take. One involves me, the other, my twin.”
“Which one is worse?” His father set his mug to the side and folded his arms.
“I’d say Nebbiolo.” Noir pulled out a chair and sat across from his mother. He took a long slow sip of coffee, letting the scalding liquid fill his belly. “Dad, you might want to sit down for this one.”
“I think I’ll stand,” his father said. “Your twin has been acting like a jerk for the last few weeks. He’s been late to work and giving Zinny and Merlot a hard time.”
“Whatever it is has been affecting you as well.” His mother pushed her work to the side. She rarely would ever give him her full attention when the showcase was her event. She lived for that stupid thing. “You’ve been covering for him and don’t pretend you haven’t. We’ve all seen it.”
“He’s been seeing someone and it’s gotten serious,” Noir said.
His father laughed. “Tell us something we don’t know.”
“He ran off and got married.” Noir held his father’s gaze.
His dad’s eyes widened, then narrowed. His lips parted. “When?”
“Yesterday,” Noir admitted. “He left me a note stating he might be late and asked me to—”
“That little shit,” his mom mumbled. “I’m going to take him and that damned dog walker—”
“She’s a dog trainer and her name is June Parker.” Noir had no idea why he felt the need to correct his mom, but when it came to Nebbiolo, it was what he did.
“I know who she is,” his mother said. “And we’ve known for weeks they have been seeing each other. I also don’t really care that they got married. Only that they had no respect for Merlot and Talbot. Those two had their entire lives ripped from them.” His mom took a napkin from the center of the table and dabbed her eyes. “I’m going to wring your twin’s neck when I see him. He had no right. They could have waited a few days. A week. Or better yet, let us throw them a wedding. He’s being a selfish little asshole, as usual, and I’m sorry he put you in a position to have to tell us.”
Noir stared at his mom. That was not the response he expected. Not only did he figure his parents had no idea about June, but he thought he’d covered better for his twin at the winery. Their job didn’t require them to be in house every day. They traveled more, to sell the wine to restaurants, hotels, and distributors. That was their job. Nebbiolo had been so busy playing house with his new girlfriend that he’d left most of the work to Noir.
Who also had a secret girlfriend.
But Tamsyn worked sixty hours a week most of the time. She didn’t demand that Noir spend every waking second in her presence.
