Page 1 of Bottle Shock
CHAPTER 1
Gavin
I THINK I HAVE A DAUGHTER
7 YEARS AGO
Jumping off a cliff is always a good idea. My toes grip the sun-warmed rocky terrain as I inch closer to the edge.One glance down and my stomach drops. Adrenaline kickstarts my heart, sending an erratic rhythm racing through my veins.There’s nothing that makes me feel more alive than the possibility of dying. The likelihood of this killing me is slim, but I welcome it like I welcome most reckless ideas. Head on.
As the salty air whips around me, I take in the endless stretch of the Adriatic Sea. It’s the kind of water that almost looks artificial—so clear and blue it makes you question why nature would create something as beautiful as it is dangerous. But then maybe that’s the point: it’s to lure you in, to give you that false sense of safety just before the current pulls you under.
I’ve been in Croatia for the past month, working as an apprentice for a biodynamic winemaker. Despite havingextensively studied enology, I’ve learned more from Luka in a few weeks than I ever did in college.
Today, wine couldn’t be further from my mind—today is about the jump, about feeding my need for adventure.I can only stand still for so long before that restless itch becomes unbearable and I’m chasing the sweet spot between foolishness and freedom.
Rolling my shoulders, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Everything goes quiet—it’s just me right before the free fall. Blood pounds in my ears, my fingers twitch before I ball my fists tightly, and the sun overhead blazes down on me like universe’s version of a spotlight. One breath later, I push off the edge.
The air tears past me in a rush, my heart hammering against my ribs. For a moment that’s both endless and instant, I’m weightless, spinning through the cloudless blue sky, and then the sea swallows me whole.
The impact is hard, a stinging slap against my skin, the icy water so cold it burns. Beneath the surface, I’m insignificant—a small blip. Nothing. And it’s exhilarating.
Kicking hard, I break through the water with a gasp and grin so wide my face aches. Luka casts me a wave from where he stands at shore, shaking his head that I’ve dragged him out of his cellar for this. I wave back so he doesn’t send out a rescue boat. Bobbing for a minute, I stare up at the cliff I just jumped from, letting pride swell in my chest. Almost a sixty-meter drop, not my tallest, but certainly not the shortest.
Floating, with the sun beating down on me and water filling my ears, my eyes fall shut.
Growing up, life was loud. Being the oldest of six made it hard to find those moments of peace and quiet. Now, when I get to experience them, I’m that much more grateful. My body moves with the current, and I let it take me. It’s freeing to give up control, and let the power of the sea guide me.
I float for a while, keeping my eyes closed, and emptying my thoughts. I’ve never been one to meditate, but I would imagine this is as close as I’ll get to it.
Eventually, I swim for shore, my muscles burning the closer I get.From the climb to the jump to the impact with the water, every limb aches.The best kind of ache. Proof of a day well-lived.
When I reach Luka, water is dripping off me and sand clings to my feet. He hands me a towel, and I use it to shake out my overgrown hair. I haven’t cut it since I was home, and it’s taken on a longish floppy look. My sister, Elyse, teasingly referred to it as ‘90s boy heartthrob hair last night over FaceTime. Whatever the fuck that means.
“Your phone,” Luka starts, his thick accent much easier for me to understand than it was when I first arrived. “It’s been ringing and ringing.”
I frown. Nobody is supposed to be calling me. I’ve been using this time to pretend the outside world doesn’t exist. No emails, no updates, no social media, and no bullshit. Apart from check-ins with my family, to everyone else, I may as well be off grid.
Luka hands me the buzzing phone. I almost press ignore, but the number is American. And not just that, it’s showing aSeattle area code, which is close enough to home to pique my curiosity.
Hesitating, my thumb hovers over the answer button. If Luka is right, and my phone has been going off non-stop, then whoever it is must really want to speak with me.
I press answer. “This is Gavin Ledger.”
A woman’s voice clears. “Mr. Ledger, this is Rebecca with King County Child Protective Services. I’m sorry to reach you this way, but I’m afraid we’re on a time constraint.”
Child Protective Services? What the fuck?
“You must have the wrong number. I?—”
“Are you familiar with a woman named Allison Thomas?”
I blink a few times, shaking my head as I try to wrap my mind around whatever the hell is going on.
“Uh, yeah I know Allison. We connected months ago. What’s going on?”
She lets out an exhale, and the sound of it has my spine stiffening. Allison and I met while she was traveling through New Zealand. I was there for the Cool Climate Wine Symposium. We happened to be staying at the same hotel, instantly bonding over being—what felt like—the only Americans in the entire country. In a strange string of coincidences, we quickly found out we were both from Washington state. A night out in the city, a few too many drinks, and one thing led to another. It was fun. She was fun. A beautiful distraction at a time when I needed one.
Two people looking for connection, nothing more.
