Page 76 of A Vintage of Regret
Two minutes later, Harlan emerged, his expression neutral. “Let’s step outside.”
“What did she say?” Riley asked.
“Things are moving quickly. Sandy didn’t give me much, but she’s doing her job. You’ve got a PI on board, and he’s good. Let him dig. Let Sandy work. I’ll be working, too. Go back to Bryson’s. Try to have a day that’s not all about this.”
“That’s it?” Riley blinked.
“For now,” Harlan said. “Sometimes, the system works slowly. And this phase can be frustrating as hell. But Sandy knows what she’s doing. I might not always like the way she questions someone. Or some of her tactics. And I know she doesn’t like some of mine. But that’s the dance. Right now, your job is to go home, spend time with your family, and try not to worry.”
“That’s no easy task.” Riley glanced over her shoulder at the station, the closed door, the faint sound of a phone ringing inside. The knot in her chest tightened.
Fifteen
Riley looped her arm around Hasley’s. “God, I so need this,” Riley said as she and Hasley moved down Main Street. “I feel like everything is in limbo. Erin and I don’t want to do a celebration of life until everything with Dad’s death is cleared up and the suspicion around Grant is gone.”
“Erin told me that Elizabeth was hounding her to schedule something while begging her to go home to her husband.” Hasley smiled and waved to a couple walking in the opposite direction. Of all the Boone kids, Hasley was the most like their mother. Both in personality and in the way she carried herself.
“My sister cries herself to sleep.” Riley took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “She puts the kids to bed, makes sure they’ve drifted off, and then falls apart. Last night I stayed with her until she was completely out. And the unfortunate part is, she’s not so broken up over her marriage. It’s all the years of allowing herself to be a doormat. Of letting my mother and her husband wipe their feet on her like she doesn’t matter.” They paused at the corner, looking both directions. “She’s so scared of being alone. She’s got a college degree, but she’s never worked, and she signed a pre-nup. About the only thing she’s certain of isthat Chad won’t fight her on custody, but I don’t trust that. The guy’s a snake.”
“Erin’s not alone.” Hasley hip-checked Riley. “Have you met my mom? She might not be a meddler, but once she’s wormed her way into your life, she doesn’t let go easily, and she’s going to be there for Erin. We all will. Besides, her kids are too cute. This morning, Willa told me I was her new favorite auntie.” Hasley stuck her chin up in the air. “Ashley was practically steaming with envy.”
Riley laughed as she pulled open the door to the Stone Ridge Tasting Room. The room hummed with a late-summer ease. The air was rich with oak and blackberry, the chatter of tourists softened by a low pulse of jazz. Bryson stood behind the bar, sleeves rolled to his forearms, pouring a deep cabernet into waiting glasses. He was in his element, telling the kind of story that made people lean in, wallets halfway open.
Hasley nudged Riley with a grin. “Watch this—he’s about to hit them with the ‘three generations of Boone pride’ bit. He learned that one from your dad.”
Sure enough, Bryson’s voice dipped lower, warm as the wine in his hand. The couple across from him all but melted.
Riley smiled, and her heart filled with a sense of pride she wasn’t sure she had the right to. “He could sell sunscreen in a snowstorm.”
“Or sand to someone already buried in it,” Hasley murmured. “He’s the enigma of the family. The one that loves every aspect of the business, from growing, to distribution to marketing, to being right here with the customers. Not even my father can do that. Daddy has always enjoyed growing and the art of the deal. Devon, he’s the PR and management guru. He can handle any nightmare tossed at this winery.”
“And you and your sister?”
“We like the marketing aspect and the books. We’re both really good with numbers.” Hasley pointed her finger at Bryson. “If that one over there wasn’t always breathing down our necks.” Her breezy laugh reminded Riley of lazy summers.
Bryson caught Riley’s eye mid-pour, that faint half-smile tugging at his mouth.
She and Hasley inched closer to the bar.
“Isn’t this a nice surprise?” he said as he stepped around the counter to greet them, first kissing his sister’s cheek. Then, he leaned in and planted a bigger kiss on Riley’s lips. “Hmmm, that’s nice.”
Her cheeks flushed as she glanced around.
“Have a seat. Want a glass?” He glanced at his watch. “I mean, it is approaching that ladies who lunch time of day,” he mused.
“We’re heading to Oscar’s,” Hasley said, leaning on the bar. “Some sister-in-law bonding.”
“Interesting choice of words, little sister.” Bryson’s gaze lingered on Riley. “Behave yourselves.”
“She’s safer with me than she is with you,” Hasley shot back.
Before Riley could respond, the door opened and the scent of gardenia swept in, followed by the staccato click of heels on wood. Monica.
“Wonderful,” Bryson said with a tight jaw. “I swear, I can’t get through a day without seeing my ex-wife. Makes me want to stick an icepick in my eyeballs.”
“You should file a restraining order,” Hasley said with some venom. “We certainly don’t need her business. It’s like she’s just giving back the money from a settlement she?—”
“Let’s not go there, shall we?” Bryson lowered his chin.
