Page 86 of Golden Touch
My face is on fire now.
“What would you like to drink?” Leila starts to rise.
“Don’t get up,” I say quickly. “We’ve got it. Are you getting any sleep these days?”
“No,” Leila and Matteo say in unison, exchanging a warm glance. “But,” Leila adds, “they tell us this part won’t last forever.”
“Sure hope not,” Nash says, moving over to a small table where there’s some white wine in an ice bucket and a selection of beers. “Pick your poison,” he says to me.
“A half glass of wine, please.” I’ll need to stay sharp tonight.
“You got it,” he says, reaching for the bottle. “Now I’ve got to set up my veggie skewers.”
“I can help,” I offer.
“No.” He pours the wine and hands it to me. “You sit down for once in your life. I’ve got this.”
Then that jerk leaves me on the terrace with Leila watching me with an expression of amused astonishment. “Wow,” she says, sipping her drink. “When Nash falls, he falls hard.”
“It’s not like that,” I say quickly.
“Oh, I think it is,” Matteo argues. He raises his glass and clinks it against his girlfriend’s. “Kinda fun to watch, honestly. I know you’ve always wished your brother would move back to Vermont.”
“That’s right,” she says. “But not because I’m being clingy. I think he’s hitting a dead end in Boston. His job isn’t fun anymore.”
“Hey now,” I say quietly. “I don’t think Nash has any plans to move home. Your dad wants things to go back to the way they were as soon as possible.”
Leila makes a face. “We don’t always get what we want, though, right? He clearly needs help. Nash has a decade of experience with the business end of running a brewery. My dad is a selfish man, but he’s not stupid. I bet he’ll figure out how much he needs Nash.”
“Maybe,” I say politely. But I don’t believe it for a second.
CHAPTER 38
NASH
It’s been years since I made dinner for my family. I miss these casual get-togethers, if I’m honest.
So I make a nice spread. There’s steak, grilled vegetables, and a quick orzo dish with pesto. We eat it at the dining room table in the great room. When little Reina gets fussy in her swing, Leila and Matteo pass her back and forth during the meal.
My sister looks elated. Even the circles under her eyes can’t weigh down her smile. It brings me joy to see it. Of the three Giltmaker kids, she’s the eldest, and the only one who’s settled down.
Maybe I’m next. But Livia and I have a couple of hurdles to clear before we can have that conversation.
I notice she switches to drinking soda, and she eats very little. She’s obviously nervous, and for good reason.
My coping strategy is different. I eat everything on my plate, and when the meal is over, I insist that nobody helps me with the dishes. I send the happy couple outside again with my mom and Livia, over everyone’s protestations.
Hard work doesn’t scare me. It never has.
But losing Livia to Razor? I get the cold sweats every time I picture her luring him to a meeting tomorrow.
My mother wanders inside as I’m hanging up the dish towel.She paces the room with the baby in her arms, probably because babies find that soothing.
“How have you been, Nash? I’ve barely heard from you while you’ve been in Vermont. But that’s my fault, isn’t it? I’ve spent these past few weeks staring at my grandchild.”
“It’s fine, Ma. I’ve been busy. And if you spent that time staring atme, that would just be awkward.”
She grins. “I just don’t want you to feel like the forgotten middle child.”
